As she neared Fiona’s house, a woman approached her, carrying a crying child. She smiled at the woman, surprised to see she did little to soothe the crotchety child. “She’s not having a good day,” Genevieve soothed, running a hand down the back of the little girl.
“She’d be fine if she stopped her whining,” the woman snapped, inching the girl away from Genevieve. “If you’ll excuse us, we must be on our way.” As she stepped past Genevieve, the little girl lifted her head, and Genevieve gasped.
“Rose!” Genevieve grabbed the woman’s shoulder, wrenching her around and tugging Rose into her arms as she caught the woman off balance. When the woman reached to take Rose back, Genevieve gave her a swift kick in her shin. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right to this child.”
Genevieve saw a young boy run away from their fracas before she focused again on the woman, who on closer inspection was older than she had first appeared. “Who are you, and why are you stealing Rose?”
“I’m not stealing the child,” she snapped, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “I was returning her to her father.”
Genevieve stared at her a long moment. “You’re that horrid woman from Boston. That Mrs. Smythe.”
Rose had settled into Genevieve’s arms and rested her head on her shoulder. She arched away from Mrs. Smythe, only calming when Genevieve spoke soothing words in her ear.
Genevieve jumped when a man spoke. “What is the matter here?” a policeman asked.
“This woman snatched my niece from her home. I happened to pass her on the street and saw her with my niece as I was to visit her house.” Genevieve stroked a hand down Rose’s back.
“What a preposterous accusation. Her mother asked me to care for her this afternoon. We are quite close.” Mrs. Smythe flung back her head in indignant righteousness.
“Bad woman,” Rose mumbled, pointing to Mrs. Smythe. “Bad woman!”
Genevieve laughed and kissed Rose’s head. “I think we should trust my niece’s assessment. She is a bad woman. I must travel to their home with Rose as I’m certain her mother is distraught.”
Another policeman arrived, and, after he conferred quietly with his colleague, they escorted both women and Rose to Fiona’s house. When they arrived, one policeman and Mrs. Smythe waited on the porch while Genevieve and Rose entered with the first policeman.
“Fee?” Genevieve called out when she entered. She frowned at the silence that met her. “Fee?”
She heard a banging noise and moved toward the hallway near the bedrooms. When she arrived, she noted a closet barred by a chair under the handle. The policeman removed it and a weeping Fiona tumbled out. Her mouth was stuffed with a rag, which was quickly removed. “Viv, I’ve lost her,” she sobbed.
“No, you haven’t,” Genevieve soothed, dropping to her knees and freeing Rose from her embrace.
Rose toddled to her mother, patting her mother’s wet cheeks with her palms and giggling at the wetness. “Mama! Mama! You’re wet!” She giggled as her mother pulled her into a tight embrace.
Fiona sobbed, holding her tight and rocking to and fro as she remained in the hallway.
Genevieve stood, paused a moment before asking the policeman, “If you would be so good as to send a man to the North Butte Mining Company to ask Patrick Sullivan to return home? His wife and daughter need him.”
The policeman nodded. “That woman on the stoop will have quite a few questions to answer,” he muttered before storming out.
Genevieve watched Fiona a moment before she moved to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea.
Patrick glanced up at the commotion in the hallway at work, frowning when he saw a policeman. He stiffened when a colleague pointed in his direction before forcing a welcoming smile as the policeman approached.
“Excuse me, are you Patrick Sullivan?” At his nod, the policeman lowered his voice. “You’re needed at home, sir.”
Patrick rose, grabbing the jacket off the back of his chair. He waved to his boss while pointing at the policeman and followed on his heels. When they emerged on the street, they set a fast pace. “What has happened?”
“An attempted abduction of your daughter. She is fine, as is your wife by all appearances.”
Patrick swore and then burst into a sprint as he raced toward home. He dodged through those meandering down the sidewalk and evaded cars as he jaywalked. His lungs and muscles burned as he ran even faster to return home as quickly as possible.
“Fee!” Patrick bellowed as he thrust open the front door. “Fee!” He ran into the living room to find it empty. He saw Genevieve in the kitchen before seeing his wife and child in the hallway, collapsing before them to his knees, panting and panicked. “Oh, my loves.” He pulled Fiona and Rose into his arms, shuddering and shaking. After his mad dash across town, he slowly regained his breath.
After a few moments, Rose squirmed from being squished between her parents and pushed to escape. He eased back, holding her on his lap as he ran a hand over her as though inspecting her. “Are you all right, my little angel?” When she giggled, he let out a stuttering sigh and shared a grateful look with Fiona.
Genevieve emerged from the kitchen and picked up Rose. “You need a few moments alone,” she murmured as she tickled and played with her niece and moved to the living room.
“If Genevieve hadn’t been walking by …” Fiona shook her head as she lost her battle with tears. “We could have lost her.”
Patrick tugged Fiona into his arms again, shuddering as he felt her shiver in his arms. “What happened?” He stroked long fingers over her shoulders and back to soothe her.
“That woman barged in here when I was in the kitchen while Rose napped. Insisted she was here to make peace. I tried to push her from the house, but, the next thing I knew, I was locked in a closet.”
He rubbed a hand over her head, stilling the motion when she grimaced. His hand felt sticky, and he frowned to find his fingers covered in blood. “You were knocked out, my love. I imagine you have a terrible headache.”
She rested her head against his chest. “Now that I’m not worried about Rose, I feel awful. And so tired.”
He gathered her close, glaring at the policeman who appeared with a chagrined look on his face. “You may not question my wife at this time. She needs a doctor and rest after what she’s suffered.”
“I understand, sir. I … I wanted to apologize that the woman in question seems to have disappeared.”
Patrick flushed with anger, his brown eyes a molten chocolate as he glared at the policeman. “If I were you, I’d obtain a warrant and search the home of Samuel Sanders. I doubt he’d allow you entrance without one.”
The policeman’s eyes flashed with curiosity. “Why should he be involved in this scheme? He’s an important man in this town.”
Patrick murmured soothing words to his wife before focusing on the young policeman again. “He has taken an unhealthy interest in my wife and daughter. I believe he is the one you should focus on, even though he will bluster and claim I’m delusional.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
Patrick paused as he considered his answer. “He is also known as Henry Masterson. That’s his real name, and that’s what he was known by in Boston before he moved to Butte and reinvented himself.”
The policeman nodded, his small pencil tapping his pad of paper. “Reinvention is common in a town like Butte. There is no crime in that.” He tapped one last time at his pad. “But I’ll keep in mind what you’ve said. I, or one of my colleagues, will return tomorrow to speak with you, ma’am.” He nodded deferentially in Fiona’s direction and then departed.
A few hours later Rose had eaten dinner and was in bed, while Fiona had seen the doctor and was also resting. Patrick sat in the living room with Lucas and Genevieve, although he rose every few minutes to pace before sitting again. “I can’t thank you enough, Genevieve.” Patrick ran a shaking hand over his face.
“There’s nothing to tha
nk me for. I wished to visit, and Fee was expecting me. I simply wish I’d arrived when I was expected. I was detained at home.” She frowned and gripped her hands together on her lap.
Lucas massaged her tensed hands. “What is it, Vivie?”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t even think it. But today has not been an ordinary day. I hate to accuse someone of mischief when it’s unwarranted.”
“Now you must tell us what concerns you or we’ll die of curiosity,” Lucas half teased to coax her to continue speaking.
“Joseph was acting odd today, peppering me with questions about his role, although he had learned his role already.” She paused as she shook her head with a distant gaze. “He seemed frantic when I finally pushed past him and departed the house this afternoon. As though he’d failed at something.”
Patrick paled before rising to pace once more.
Lucas gripped her hand tightly. “I fear I may have been a gullible fool and hired a spy.” He met Patrick’s worried gaze. “I wonder if he works for Sanders?”
“Would make sense. I’d think more than Mrs. Smythe would be involved. Although I wouldn’t put it past her to knock Fee senseless, I’m not sure she has the strength any more to drag her down the hall and stuff her in a closet.”
Lucas swore before slinging an arm over Genevieve’s shoulders. “Forgive me for making us vulnerable to him. I merely wanted to help a poor musician and his family.”
“You did nothing wrong, Lucas,” Genevieve soothed. “If he had an ounce of loyalty, he never would have betrayed your trust.”
Lucas took a deep, calming breath. “First, we must speak with him and determine if he truly did betray us before we condemn him. If he did, he is out on his ear. Agreed?” He nodded as Genevieve blinked her agreement.
“I’ve never understood why you have so many employees,” Patrick muttered. He waved his arm around. “How do I keep Fee and Rose safe from Sanders?”
“I know it’s not a solution you will like, but you can always move in with us. We have plenty of room.” Lucas studied his cousin’s frenetic movement around the room. “That way, you’ll know that someone from the family is within shouting distance at all times.”
Patrick shook his head. “Fee would hate it. So would I.” He flushed. “Not that I mean any disrespect. It would feel like a cage, when we’re used to our own home and privacy and freedom.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I will discuss it with her and will let you know what we decide.”
Lucas nodded and rose, giving Genevieve a hand to stand up. “We’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
Patrick opened his daughter’s door, tiptoeing inside to ensure she was well. She slept on her back with her arms flung out and her head to one side. He rubbed a gentle hand over her hair before leaning down to softly kiss her. “Sleep well, my darling girl.”
He eased into his room down the hall, toeing off his shoes as he slipped out of his shirt and pants. Fiona stirred on the bed, and he made soothing noises to coax her back to sleep. However, she rolled to her side, her eyes tracking his movements as he finished undressing and then slid under the covers. “Come here, love,” he whispered, pulling her toward him. He sighed when she rested her head on his shoulder.
She sat upright, as though remembering what had happened, and his grip on her waist tightened. “I just looked in on Rose. She’s fine. Sleeping with abandon as only the young can.”
“Oh, Patrick, forgive me,” she whispered against his shoulder.
His featherlight kiss to her hair gave comfort but no pain as he remained mindful of her wound. “There’s nothing to forgive. You fought valiantly to protect our Rose but were overpowered.” His hold on her tightened before he forced himself to ease his grasp of her. “I give thanks you weren’t more severely injured.”
She shuddered in his arms.
He murmured to her softly but could tell from the tension in her body that sleep eluded her. “Lucas and Genevieve have invited us to live with them. For as long as we would like.” He waited many moments as she remained tense and silent in his arms.
“I hate that my first instinct is to accept their invitation.”
He frowned at her whispered admission. “There’s no shame in wishing to feel safe after suffering what you did today, love.”
She pushed against him and sat up, clinging to his arm and shoulder as she closed her eyes. “Dizzy,” she muttered. After a minute she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I’d feel a coward were I to accept. We should be strong and remain in our own home.”
He watched her with worried eyes. “I can’t always be with you, Fee. I wish I could, but I must go to work.”
Once more she settled against his shoulder with a sigh, her fingers playing in his chest hair. “I know. And I shouldn’t want you home. You need to be off, feeling pride as you provide for us.”
He choked on a laugh. “Somehow that didn’t come out as a compliment.”
She giggled. “I never meant it as a criticism. I merely want you to know I find true peace when you are home.” After a pause, she added, “Now more so than ever.”
She sighed and linked her hand with his large one. “I appreciate their offer, Patrick, but I want to remain here. In our home. I will have a few rough days, but I will overcome them.”
He kissed her temple. “I agree. However, I believe we should accept for a few days as you recover from your head injury. Then we will remain here, strong and independent.”
She snuggled into him and kissed his neck. “I fear independence is an illusion, my darling.”
He chuckled as he held her close while she slipped into sleep again.
Lucas played the piano in the main living area, the piece more somber than usual. Genevieve acted as though she read the newspaper, although her gaze darted to the side at any noise. Joseph appeared, looking well-fed and content as he strolled into the living area. He paused near the piano.
“Joseph,” Lucas said with a friendly smile as Genevieve watched the scene unfold from around the newspaper. “Have you had a chance to write any new songs?” He scooted over on the piano bench as though in a friendly manner to allow Joseph to sit next to him.
“No, I’m workin’ too hard ’ere an’ at …” His voice trailed away.
“I’m glad you’ve found plenty of work to help your family,” Lucas said. “I’m surprised you’d need two jobs.” He played a soothing sequence of notes.
Joseph cleared his throat, also ridding himself of the rough street cant as he mimicked Lucas’s refined accent. “My mother’s ailing. She a—isn’t able to take in the washing like she used to, so I’m trying to help with more work.”
“I’m sure your other employer is understanding of your situation.”
“Sanders is a right mean bastard, but ’e pays well.” Joseph froze and shot a concerned look at Lucas. When Lucas continued to play with no evidence of concern, Joseph relaxed and watched Lucas’s fingers as they nimbly moved over the keys.
“Would that be Mr. Samuel Sanders? The successful manager from the Company?” At Joseph’s nod, Lucas changed the tenor of the piece. Rather than a soothing lullaby, it was harsher and more strident. “I’d think a man as successful as he is would pay quite well, and you wouldn’t need two jobs.”
“Oh, it were a short-term deal.”
Lucas slammed his hands down on the piano keys and spun on the piano bench to face Joseph. “The kind of deal that means you spy on us? The kind that means you delay my wife’s departure to my cousin’s house so his daughter can be kidnapped?” He clamped a viselike hand over Joseph’s wiry arm. “Is that the short-term deal you mean?”
Joseph stared at Lucas with dawning horror. “I never meant—”
“Was that your goal, Joseph?” Genevieve asked, coming to stand near him.
“No! I needed money. For bills an’ food.” He squirmed and kicked, growling in frustration to realize he wouldn’t break free from Lucas’s hold. “I never meant no ’arm to no one!”
&n
bsp; “Why wouldn’t you ask us? You know we would have helped you,” Genevieve whispered.
Lucas watched Joseph with pity and sadness. “We would have helped you in any way we could have. Instead, I must ask you to leave this house and never return. You betrayed our trust, and you are never welcome here again.”
“No,” Joseph called out. “It ain’t like he got what he wanted. The little girl’s still at home.”
Lucas clamped his jaw tight as he fought his anger. “Only because Mrs. Russell escaped your incessant questions and distractions yesterday to foil the kidnapping.” Lucas rose, dragging Joseph with him. “Come. Let’s get your things as you are banned from this house.” He tugged a complaining, explaining Joseph behind him as they walked toward the back stairs.
Lucas returned, disheveled and out of breath. Genevieve moved over on the settee and he plopped down next to her. “That was singularly unpleasant.”
She shuddered. “What he was complicit in was even more so.” She snuggled into his shoulder a moment. “I still can’t believe he acted in such a way.”
Lucas ran a hand down her arm, the motion calming him as much as it did her. “I fear he’ll have no job by the end of the day. With yesterday’s debacle, it can only end poorly for him.”
She sighed and laced her hand with his. “I wish I could feel sympathy for him. But I can’t. When I think of what could have happened …” She scrubbed her face against Lucas’s shirtfront. “It’s inconceivable.”
“I fear this won’t be the last dealings we have with Sanders. I think he has tentacles everywhere.” Lucas kissed the top of her head and finally relaxed with her on the settee.
“Just like the Company.” Genevieve shuddered and then froze at the knock on the front door.
Lucas sighed and heaved himself up. He wrenched open the door with a glower that transformed into a grin when he saw his cousin and his family on his doorstep. “Come in!” He stepped aside so they could enter. He tickled little Rose on her belly, earning a giggle that eased his tension.
Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7 Page 22