Song of Erin

by BJ Hoff

  There was Shona, of course. Little solemn-faced Shona, whose quiet presence was as dependable as the sunrise. It seemed the only time the child left Terese’s side was at mealtimes and during evening vespers.

  And Mrs. Harte—Samantha, as she insisted Terese call her—was the loveliest and, as both Terese and Cavan agreed, surely the kindest lady one could hope to meet, with a smile that seemed to warm the entire sickroom and great dark eyes where flecks of light sometimes danced, but where more often than not a hint of old sorrows seemed to brim.

  She was a real lady, Samantha Harte was: delicate and slender with thick, glossy hair neatly wrapped in a twist at the back of her neck, skin the color of fresh cream, and soft hands with delicately manicured nails. So quietly did she move that her skirts gave hardly a rustle, and always, she seemed to smell like flowers.

  Yet, on the very next day after Terese regained consciousness this elegant lady with the fine manners and educated speech had rolled up the sleeves to her dainty shirtwaist and bathed Terese as gently as if she were a wee babe. She had even washed her hair and put a ribbon in it. And all the while she had continued to speak in that soft and gentle voice, telling Terese that she was “lovely,” that her cropped hair was “magnificent,” and that everyone was “thankful and relieved” that God had granted her so great a healing.

  As the days passed, Samantha Harte had continued to come, sometimes tending to Terese’s most personal needs, but also offering her a kind of womanly companionship unknown to Terese before now. She even read aloud to her, mostly from the Holy Scriptures. One in particular had caught Terese’s attention and had quickly become her favorite, so much so that she would ask Samantha to read it over and over again, relishing the way it sounded in her new friend’s refined way of speaking:

  “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

  She would smile then, Samantha would, and assure Terese that God did indeed have a plan for her, and that it was for good, and she must keep her hope. Terese wanted to believe her, but at times she couldn’t help but question whether such a promise was truly meant for her. She was beginning to wonder if, because of her sins, God hadn’t given up any plans he might have had for her and turned his back on her altogether.

  She appreciated the way Samantha spoke of the babe: as if it were a good thing, not a burden to be borne or a problem to be solved. The baby was a gift, Samantha would say, an image that more and more appealed to Terese. As far as she was concerned, the child she carried was the only good thing to come out of her relationship with Brady, other than the passage to America.

  She liked it best when Samantha came alone, but on occasion Jack Kane accompanied her. Terese felt awkward entirely around Brady’s older brother. He was a formidable man, even frightening. He reminded Terese of a dark and dangerous mountain cat with his unfathomable gaze that seemed to bore right through her soul and the hard mouth that could no doubt say cruel things when provoked.

  Part of the reason she felt so miserably uncomfortable with him, of course, was the lie Brady had propagated about the baby’s being the issue of an “unknown attacker.” But now that she had actually met him, Terese thought she better understood Brady’s reluctance to incur his brother’s displeasure.

  Other than an unmistakable similarity in appearance, the two obviously shared little in common. Jack Kane would be no dreamer, no lighthearted jester or careless rogue who indulged himself in soft living. Brady’s brother was clearly a hard man. Even when he smiled, those granitelike features gentled not a bit.

  Terese wished he would just stay away, but being her benefactor—the word was bitter on her tongue—she supposed he had every right to come as often as he wished.

  The one visitor she did look forward to each day, even more than Samantha Harte, was Dr. Leslie. If evening arrived without a sign of him, Terese would grow restless and disappointed. But when he finally walked into the room, her dark mood would instantly flee at the sight of his slightly crooked smile and soft but decidedly warm greeting.

  She had never known a man as kind and seemingly good-natured as the lean-faced physician who, according to Samantha, had cared for Terese “tirelessly.” Something in his gentle treatment of her, his infinite courtesy toward her—and that somewhat shy, heart-squeezing smile that always seemed especially for her—evoked an unfamiliar longing in Terese. It was a desire to be different—better—than what she was.

  Yet even as she yearned to be a lady—someone like Samantha Harte, for example, worthy of a man’s respect and admiration—she knew a terrible, aching shame that made her want to hide herself from David Leslie’s gaze. No doubt he would despise her if he knew the truth.

  As for Jack Kane, he would probably toss her out into the street if he were ever to learn that the child she carried was the result of a clandestine affair with his younger brother.

  Given the churning state of her emotions, it was small wonder that her head began to swim in confusion when the two men directly responsible for her turmoil walked into the room together.

  “Ah, Terese. How are you this evening?” Dr. Leslie reached her first, smiling as he took her hand and, as he always did upon entering the room, proceeded to check her pulse.

  Jack Kane stood behind him at a slight distance. He neither smiled nor frowned but merely stood watching, his eyes shuttered, his expression inscrutable.

  “A bit stronger,” Terese answered honestly. “I sat in the chair by the window for quite a long time this afternoon. And I was actually hungry for supper.”

  “Excellent! Well, then, tomorrow, if you feel up to it, we’ll let you begin walking in the corridor instead of just tiptoeing about your room.”

  Terese had been moved into a room by herself nearly two weeks past. According to Samantha, the change of rooms had been at the specific request of Jack Kane, who insisted Terese would rest better in quieter surroundings. Although Dr. Leslie had agreed, Terese couldn’t help but wonder if the move hadn’t been precipitated more by Kane’s obvious discomfort with the dormitory, where the other women often moaned or wept aloud in their distress.

  The doctor released Terese’s hand and straightened. “And where is your faithful shadow this evening?”

  “Shona? She went down to vespers.”

  “That’s where I’m headed as well. Terese, Mr. Kane would like to speak with you if you’re up to it.”

  Terese looked from the doctor to Jack Kane, whose quick smile wasn’t reflected in his eyes. “I won’t stay long,” he offered in that deep, strangely quiet voice that still held more than a hint of his Irishness. “A few minutes, no more.”

  “Yes…of course,” Terese managed, trying not to sound as grudging as she felt.

  “Very well, then,” said David Leslie. “I’ll leave the two of you to your visit.”

  He turned to go, promising to look in on her later. Terese had all she could do not to call him back. Jack Kane’s dark presence unsettled her when others were in the room; the prospect of being alone with him for any length of time unnerved her entirely.

  Kane stepped closer to the bed. “May I?” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down before Terese could answer.

  “I won’t tax you with small talk, Terese,” Kane said. “I just want to say that I’m sorry for your troubles. All this has been very difficult for you, I know, but Dr. Leslie assures me that you’re making good progress these days.”

  “Aye…yes, I’m…feeling much better now.”

  The cat seemed to have taken her wits along with her tongue. Unsettled by his close scrutiny, Terese glanced away.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Kane said in the same flat tone of voice that made Terese think he wasn’t glad at all, that indeed, he didn’t much care one way or the other how she was doing.

  “Mrs. Harte visits you often, does she?”

  Terese turned back to him. “Almost every day. She’s been kindness itself.”

&nbs
p; “Yes, she’s a remarkable lady, isn’t she? And of course you’ll want to heed any suggestions she might have for you. She’ll be instrumental in helping you to get settled.” He paused. “Your brother hasn’t been the same since you arrived, by the way. We seldom see him without a smile on his face these days.”

  Kane also cracked a smile, which quickly fled.

  Terese was beginning to wonder why, exactly, he had come. Certainly he didn’t want to be here; he looked almost as if he couldn’t wait to take his leave.

  “I’d like to ask you about my brother,” said Kane.

  Terese’s heart slammed against her chest. “Your brother?”

  He nodded. “Brady. I haven’t wanted to disturb you with this, but since you say you’re feeling stronger, I thought you wouldn’t mind if we had a chat.”

  “No—I mean, that’s fine, sir.”

  “Brady made the arrangements for your passage, isn’t that so?”

  Terese gave a nod, not trusting her voice. Her mind raced in alarm. Had he somehow learned the truth about her and Brady—about the baby?

  “The thing is, I haven’t heard from him in some time, you see, and I thought perhaps you’d at least be able to tell me how he was when you last saw him, before you came across.”

  Only slightly relieved, Terese caught a breath to steady herself. “Oh…well, he seemed quite…fit to me, sir.”

  Kane was still watching her as he framed his next question. “Did you know Brady well?”

  Terese’s pulse accelerated again. Careful, she warned herself. Be careful…

  “Oh…no, hardly at all. Though he was…a great help to me—and the children.”

  The room was close, and Kane moved to unbutton his topcoat and take off his gloves. “Yes. I was sorry to hear about the little Madden boy, by the way. Too bad, that.” He hesitated, then went on. “So then—I don’t suppose you’d have any idea why my brother has been so out of touch of late? In truth, I’m somewhat concerned about him. Not that he was ever the great communicator.”

  Terese felt suddenly cold, so cold she had to steel herself against the chattering of her teeth. “I can’t imagine, sir. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from him soon. He’s probably just…busy.”

  Kane’s eyes were so dark—almost black—they seemed to hold no light at all. It was impossible to even begin to sense his thoughts. Moreover, the man seemed to almost never blink, giving his gaze even more intensity.

  “Well—let’s hope you’re right.” He paused. “I trust he took good care of you—and the children?”

  Terese’s mouth had gone dry. “Sir?” She cringed as she heard her voice crack.

  “Brady—I hope he saw to everything you needed for the passage.”

  “Oh…aye, he did.” Terese could not resist adding, “Though I expect he made payment for more than we got.”

  Kane frowned. “How’s that?”

  “As I understood it, your brother—he took what your newspaper sent and paid for second-class passage for the three of us. But we were put in steerage.”

  A dark crimson flush spread over Kane’s features. “You traveled in steerage?”

  “Yes, sir. But I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  His mouth twisted downward. “You needn’t apologize. I know all about steerage, as it happens. I came over that way myself. A wretched experience entirely.”

  Terese found it impossible to imagine this big, brooding man, in his fancy attire and daunting air of confidence, trapped in steerage like any ordinary peasant.

  Kane brushed a hand down the side of his face, and his expression seemed to clear a little. “I regret that you had to go through that. I can’t think how it happened. Didn’t my brother see you onto the ship?”

  Terese hesitated. She mustn’t tell him, of course, that his precious brother couldn’t be rid of her soon enough, once the arrangements were made.

  She had to be that careful of what she said. She didn’t want Kane asking too many questions.

  Even so, her response nearly stuck in her throat. “He…your brother said he had other business to attend to. A lady from the orphan home—where Shona and her brother had been staying—saw us to the ship. But she wasn’t allowed on board with us.”

  “I see.” Kane’s mouth was a thin, unyielding line. “Well, there’s no undoing it now. Nevertheless, I’m sorry it happened.”

  He didn’t look sorry, Terese thought. He looked almost as if he had no feelings at all. She also noticed that he was no longer meeting her eyes but seemed to be considering how to phrase his next words as he lightly slapped one glove against the palm of his hand.

  “So then—what are your plans for the child?”

  “My…plans?” Terese was startled by his directness. Men didn’t refer to a woman’s delicate condition unless they were family—and even then, only if it were absolutely necessary; it was unheard of.

  But perhaps Jack Kane considered himself above the proprieties. Perhaps he figured he could say and do whatever he pleased.

  “You’ll not be keeping it, surely.” His tone made this no question, but a statement of fact.

  Suddenly furious with the man’s presumption—never mind that he was her benefactor—Terese pushed herself up from the pillows. “I will indeed be keeping my child!”

  He never so much as blinked but merely crossed his arms over his chest, still not quite meeting her gaze. “And how, exactly, will you manage?”

  “Why, I intend to work! I’ll not be asking for charity once I’m well again.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s very commendable, I’m sure, but perhaps not altogether practical. What sort of a position do you expect to find with a babe in arms?”

  He sat there, so large and intimidating—so confident in himself and his money and his…control over her—that Terese knew a sudden stab of fear. The truth was that at this moment, at least, Jack Kane did have control over her, even had the power to keep her—and the babe—from going hungry.

  And he knew it, perhaps was even flaunting it.

  Then she remembered Cavan, and relief came rushing over her. “I don’t know just yet what sort of work I’ll be finding, sir. But as soon as I’m able, I’ll be looking for a position. Until then, I expect Cavan will take care of me and the babe. He’s already assured me that he would look after us.”

  Kane traced his dark mustache with a finger and nodded. “Cavan’s a fine young man. And of course, he’ll not see you go without. In fact, he’d likely assume full responsibility for you and the child.” He stopped. “If you were to allow it.”

  Now he did look directly at Terese, his eyes narrowing as he did so. “But perhaps you can see that you’d be making things impossibly difficult for both you and your brother if you were to burden him in such a way. Cavan is scarcely more than a boy himself. It doesn’t seem quite fair to put so great an obligation on the shoulders of one so young.”

  Silent for a moment, Kane continued to slap a glove against his hand. When he again spoke, his tone was thoughtful, even mild. “You might want to consider the fact that Cavan is only beginning his own career. And though he’s a talented lad, he has a long road to travel before he’ll be making the kind of wage it takes to support an entire family. I have every intention of helping him to further his education and gain as much experience as possible, but he’ll need to apply himself. I’m afraid your brother will have little time for anything but work in the next few years if he’s to be as successful as he hopes to be—and as successful as I think he can be.”

  Terese stared at him in dismay, too confused and uncertain to form a reply. She hadn’t thought of being a burden to Cavan. In truth, she hadn’t thought much about the future at all. She had been too ill, too overcome by her circumstances to do much more than simply exist from day to day.

  Consequently, Jack Kane seemed to think she was nothing more than a useless, idle girl who would need to be dependent on someone else for an indefinite time. She groped for something that might conv
ince him otherwise, convince him that she could be—would be—responsible. Self-sufficient.

  But he gave her no chance for argument, instead rose to his feet. “We needn’t speak of this right now,” he said, buttoning up his finely tailored overcoat and slipping on his gloves. His tone was almost friendly as he added, “I promised Dr. Leslie I wouldn’t stay long, after all. For the most part, I simply wanted to drop by and make certain you have everything you need. We’ll talk again soon. When you’ve had more time to think.”

  With that, he gave a quick nod and turned to go, leaving Terese more confused and troubled than ever.

  She had expected to dislike Jack Kane, given Brady’s interminable grousing about his brother. She had not, however, expected to be frightened of him, indeed hadn’t thought of feeling anything toward Kane other than a grudging acceptance of his help in getting out of Ireland and making it possible for her to start over here in the States.

  But she was frightened. Kane’s voice had been quiet, his manner smooth and even solicitous at times. Nonetheless, the man had threatened her; she was sure of it.

  But threatened what? What could a man like Jack Kane possibly want from her so much that he would employ threats to obtain it?

  Shaken, Terese began to tremble, only a little at first, then more violently. She was no match for such a man, and she knew it. Her mind went to Cavan. There had been something in Kane’s tone when he spoke of Cavan—something veiled, something too subtle to decipher—but it had been there all the same.

  Her stomach gave a sudden wrench at the reminder that Kane was Cavan’s employer. And Cavan, although he admitted to not being blind to Kane’s shortcomings, fiercely admired the man. More than that, however, he loved his job. The job that Jack Kane had made possible for him.

  She wouldn’t dare mention to Cavan what had just transpired. He might get angry, do something foolish and spoil his standing with Kane, even lose his position. No, no matter how badly she wanted to tell him, she would have to keep her silence.