The Physician's Irish Lady

by Susan Macatee

  Rogan scowled. “Truth be told, she ain’t exactly a lady.”

  “Not one of the whores down at Madam Brittany’s?”

  Rogan shook his head. “No, she’s not from town. I came all the way from New York City to bring her back. And now she’s gone and married a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” The bartender guffawed. “A whore and a doctor. Fancy that.”

  “I’ll wager she’s never told the man about her sordid past. And now it’s too late for me to get her back.”

  “You want her that bad?” The man turned back to the sink to wash out a few glasses.

  “Not her. I want the money due me for bringing her to the brothel. Now she’s run off and gotten married.”

  “I feel for you, sir, traveling so far for nothing.” The man leaned on the bar. “Why don’t you go and snatch her back?”

  Rogan threw up his hands. “But she’s legally wed to the doctor. I have no claim on the bitch.”

  “But if he knew about her past, he might just divorce her and give her to you freely. You’d have your money and the satisfaction you’d put her back in her place. You saw her first, after all.”

  Rogan nursed his beer as the bartender attended new customers. It would be satisfying to drag Keara back with him. It would serve her right for inconveniencing him. After all, she should have been grateful to find employment in New York City. She’d been alone and destitute when she’d gotten off the ship. Easy prey for any animal who might attack her, even kill her. He’d given her a place to stay and food in her belly, but she’d run.

  The madam had been pleased with Keara’s youth and fair appearance. Her clients were well-heeled, and she’d had big plans for this newest acquisition. She’d blamed him when Keara had escaped. A great deal of money lay on his finding and returning her.

  He’d steal her away from her new fancy husband and make her pay.

  ****

  A week after Elliot’s friends had gone, Keara paid a visit to Dorothy Hobart. She had a vial of herbal medicine for one of the Hobart children who’d come down with the measles.

  “Jeff had an appointment in town, and I fear he’ll be late.” Dorothy turned from the stove as Keara rocked her sleeping child. “Put him in the cradle. I’ll have Jeff carry him up to bed once we’ve eaten.”

  Keara lifted the sleeping boy and settled him in the cradle. He barely fit the tiny bed. “You won’t have need of the cradle much longer.” She studied Dorothy as she pulled a serving plate from the cupboard. “Unless you have another wee one in the oven.”

  Dorothy smirked. “I surely hope not. Got more than a handful right now.”

  “But the older children must be a help to you.”

  “They are.” Dorothy smiled and sat at the table. “But I miss having you around to talk to.”

  “I miss you too.” Keara grimaced. “I miss coming here every day. Not so much to do at my house with nothing but two adults.”

  Dorothy’s gaze drifted to Keara’s belly. “I’m sure you’ll be having a brood of your own soon. I’ll lend you the cradle, since my children no longer fit in it.”

  Keara’s face heated as she stroked her hand over her skirt. “I don’t know if I’m ready for little ones.”

  “Nonsense.” Dorothy stood and frowned. “You’ll be a natural. Elliot is lucky to have found you.”

  Keara sighed and stood. “I should be on me way…”

  “Do you have to be home for dinner?”

  Keara shrugged. “Well, Elliot’s out seeing a patient, and Aunt Millie is attending a social with her ladies’ group.”

  “Then stay a bit longer and eat with us. I’m sure Jeff will be back in time to see you home.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble,” Keara said.

  “You’re never trouble. The children love having you here. They miss you.”

  “I suppose I could stay.”

  Dorothy opened the oven door. Keara’s mouth watered at the aroma of roasted beef.

  By the time they’d finished the meal, Jeff still hadn’t returned. “Don’t know what can be keeping him so long,” Dorothy mused.

  Her oldest girl stacked dishes and stepped outside to pump a pail of water for washing. The younger children settled around the women to play with their toys.

  “I really should be going,” Keara said.

  “No, you must wait for Jeff. He can’t be much longer.”

  “It’s fine. I can walk it. I’ll likely be home by the time Jeff returns.”

  Dorothy’s worried frown didn’t deter Keara. She wasn’t afraid. Rogan was likely back in New York City by now tricking new girls into working in the brothel. He’d have forgotten all about her by now.

  Dorothy stood on her front porch, beside a lit lantern, her youngest son cradled in her arms. “Please take care, Keara.”

  “I will.” She turned and trotted down the road to the gate sectioning off the Hobart’s property. Twilight made it hard to make out objects, but she could see well enough. By the time she’d entered the town limits, the streets grew darker, but lights in the homes she passed lit her way. A good thing she’d decided not to wait for Jeff.

  Lights shone through the windows of her home as she opened the front gate. She hoped Elliot had returned home but couldn’t be sure since he kept his carriage and mare around the back of the house. She stepped onto the porch and opened the door.

  Something black and quick slipped out nearly causing her to fall. She gasped. “Shadow?” It had to have been the cat.

  Millie appeared at the door and peered out. “I thought you’d be home before now. How is the baby?”

  “He’s fine.” Keara waved her arm. “But I fear I let Shadow out. I’ve got to find him.”

  “Just leave him be. He’ll find his way back when he’s ready.”

  Keara hesitated but shook her head. “I’ll just take a quick look around. If I don’t find him in a few minutes, I’ll be right in.”

  Millie frowned. “The cat’s a bad omen. Come inside.”

  “But he’s alone and likely scared.” Keara waved off Millie’s concern. Before the older woman could voice another protest, Keara slipped down to the gate and out onto the road.

  “Shadow, me lad. Where are you, kitty?”

  A meow and dark streak led her to an alley between two houses further down the road. “Here, Shadow. Come home.” She crept into the ally, hoping to corner the cat, but an iron grip grabbed her from behind.

  Chapter Ten

  Elliot halted his mare in front of the house. He’d left the carriage, having no need of it. He’d go inside and check on the women before he took his mount around to the stable.

  He stepped in the foyer to find Millie wringing her hands in her apron. “What’s wrong, Aunt? Where’s Keara?”

  “She’s gone after the cat.” She waggled a finger in Elliot’s face. “I warned her the animal was a bad omen.”

  “The cat?”

  “Yes, he ran out the door when Keara arrived home. She wanted to look for him, but I told her to let him be.” She twisted her hands in her apron. “Now, I’m worried something’s happened to her.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” But as he said the words, Elliot’s heart thundered. “How long has she been gone?”

  “About fifteen minutes.” His aunt’s gaze fixed on him. “She should have returned by now with or without the cat.”

  “I’ll go look for her.” Elliot raced out the door and mounted his mare. She had to be nearby.

  After searching the neighborhood for an hour, Elliot hadn’t found any sign of Keara or anyone who’d seen her. He stopped home on the hope she’d returned while he’d been out.

  Millie greeted him at the door. “Have you found her?”

  “No. She didn’t come back?”

  “No, but the cat did.”

  Elliot glanced toward the kitchen door where the cat sat licking his tail.

  “I’m so worried, nephew.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “S
o am I.”

  ****

  Why is the room moving? Keara tried to raise a hand to her aching head but realized her wrists and ankles were bound. A fetid gag stuffed her dry mouth.

  She turned her head to take in her surroundings. She lay trussed up in a covered wagon but couldn’t make out who drove the conveyance. Her heart sank as she realized who the driver might be. Struggling against her bonds, she grunted with the effort, as the pain in her head intensified. The memory of someone pinning her in the ally, then the male voice she’d grown to dread. Rogan! He’d hit her on the head, then taken her.

  Her heart sank. Would Elliot realize in time and come for her? Could she find a way to escape on her own?

  She had to work free of her bonds or, at least, push the gag from her mouth to call for help. But the harder she tried, the fiercer her headache grew until she feared she’d pass out.

  She gritted her teeth, willing the pain to stop. Each jolt of the wagon sent a shaft of white hot pain through her skull.

  The wagon finally stopped, and Keara tensed. She sensed movement outside. The driver tromped around to the back. The slit parted and Rogan peered in. The devil!

  “Thought you’d gotten away from me by marrying that doctor, didn’t you?” He leered. “Well, I won’t be losin’ me pay over a little tramp like you. I’m taking you back where you belong.”

  Keara rolled to her side but couldn’t do more than glare at him.

  He laughed. “You’ll be sorry if you try to escape me again.” He crawled into the back of the wagon and tested her bonds. “Good. I don’t want you getting loose before we make it to York. After we board the train for Philadelphia, you’ll have no chance to get away.”

  He crept back out and folded the covering back, leaving her alone in the dark. His weight shook the wagon as he settled into the driver’s seat, and the conveyance lurched away.

  So, now she knew they were nearing York. He obviously meant to take her to New York by train. She had to get away from him before he got her on board.

  She worked on loosening the bonds with vigor.

  She’d die before she’d allow him to take her back to New York City.

  ****

  Elliot rode his mare hard to Jim’s house. He needed the sheriff’s help to have any chance of finding Keara. Although he had little proof, he had no doubt Rogan Morrissey had taken her.

  He pounded on Jim’s door, regretting having to wake his wife and children, but his own wife’s life was likely at stake. He had no choice.

  A lamp lit inside and he made out voices. “Go on upstairs,” Jim told his wife. “I’ll take care of this.”

  He opened the door with a pistol drawn, then lowered it at the sight of Elliot. Running a hand through his hair, he creaked the door inward. “What the devil are you pounding on my door in the middle of the night for?” He eyed Elliot as he slipped inside and followed Jim to the parlor.

  “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Sit down,” Jim ordered. “I’m pouring you a drink. Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  Elliot shook his head. “There’s no time for liquor. She’s gone.”

  “Who?” Jim turned from the desk where he’d been eyeing the cabinet of amber bottles.

  “Keara,” Elliot croaked, willing his dry mouth to moisten. He had to explain his fears.

  “She’s left you?” Jim stepped toward Elliot.

  He plopped on the settee, his knees suddenly weak. “No. He’s taken her.”

  “He?” Jim sat on the chair opposite Elliot. “You mean, Morrissey?”

  Elliot nodded. “I thought once we’d married, he’d give up. Leave her be.”

  “I banished him from town weeks ago.” Jim’s jaw tensed. “I can’t believe he’d sneak back here and take Keara.”

  “I don’t know why he wants her. She never told me the reason. But she’s afraid of him.”

  “This all doesn’t make a ton of sense. He said he was from New York. You reckon that’s where he’s taken her?”

  “I don’t know,” Elliot groaned. “I should have kept better watch on her.”

  Jim rose and patted Elliot’s shoulder. “This is not your fault. You did all you could to protect her. And, no reflection on her, but if she had been honest with you about her past, we might’ve had more luck keeping her protected from the man.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Jim. I don’t care what she’s done in the past. I love her and can’t lose her now.” Elliot propped his elbows on his knees and sank his face into his hands. He’d failed her and would never forgive himself if harm came to her.

  ****

  A train whistle sounded close by. Keara roused herself, trying once again to work free of her bonds. Sometime during the night, she’d grown exhausted and fallen asleep. But every jolt of the wagon left her with uneasy dreams. She dreamed of a despondent Elliot never knowing what had become of her. Her gut clenched with pain at the thought, more than anything Rogan could do to her.

  Rosy light filtered through the crack in the canvas. It had to be dawn. Rogan had obviously purchased tickets for an early train, or was he buying them now? The wagon wasn’t moving, and she didn’t sense the man’s presence in the driver’s seat. She had to escape before he returned.

  She attempted to push the gag, but the harder she pushed with her tongue, the tighter it seemed to press into her mouth. Her bonds were still too tight to permit her to slip out. What should she do?

  She rolled toward the back of the wagon. If Rogan wasn’t around, she could try to roll herself out. Even if she ended in a heap on the ground, someone might see her and free her. She had to try.

  Rolling and squirming, she elbowed her way to the back of the wagon, then poked her head through the seams in the canvas. She quickly ducked back in when she recognized Rogan’s back as he dismounted from a horse. She held her breath as something scraped against the back of the wagon, jostling her. Rogan’s ruddy face appeared close to hers. He smiled and reached out a beefy hand.

  She tried to back away, but he yanked her bodice and pulled her toward the opening. “That’s where you’ll be riding. All the way to Philadelphia, then on to New York.”

  His hideous laugh chilled her blood as she gazed at a huge trunk. He meant to get her onto the train unnoticed. She lifted her legs and kicked him with her bound feet.

  He shoved her and held her face in a vice like grip. “We’ll be having none of that. You’ll go along quietly, so no one knows what’s in me trunk.” He yanked the gag from her mouth, then pushed a faintly sweet smelling rag against her face.

  Her senses dulled, and she realized he’d drugged her. Blackness descended, along with regret knowing she’d never see her sweet husband again.

  ****

  Elliot’s mind churned as he followed Jim along the trail of the wagon. If the lying bastard had hurt Keara, he’d kill him with his bare hands. Dawn’s rosy glow had already risen over the hills as the men entered the town of York. Elliot feared the train to Philadelphia would have already left by the time they arrived, but Jim assured them they’d make it.

  During the long overnight trip, Elliot had tried to reason out why Keara would have held back information about Morrissey. She obviously knew him from somewhere, even if he wasn’t her husband. And if she’d lied, Elliot’s marriage would be null and void.

  He wiped a hand over his grimy face. He had to have faith his bride wouldn’t have betrayed him. But how could he be sure?

  A train whistle caught his attention. Jim motioned him to hurry toward the sound.

  Please don’t let the train be gone. Elliot couldn’t bear it if he never saw Keara again and had to spend the rest of his life wondering if she’d lied and what had become of her.

  “Over here,” Jim called, leading him to the station.

  A train sat spewing smoke. This had to be the one. Elliot’s heart raced, and his pulse thundered. He had to get to her in time. Nothing else mattered.

  **** />
  She ran through sand, her mouth filled with cotton. She slowed, unable to take one more step. But she couldn’t give up, had to keep running.

  Keara opened her eyes to darkness. Thin slits of light filtered through cracks above her head. She squirmed and remembered. Rogan had her bound and gagged in the trunk. Likely he had her stashed on the train on the way to Philadelphia and away from any help from Elliot.

  She held still for a moment, straining to hear any sound. If she wasn’t yet on the train, she might be able to gain someone’s attention by kicking against the box. She had to try.

  Maneuvering as best she could in the small space, she lifted her cramped legs and kicked weakly against the trunk. Grunting with frustration, she pushed with all her might but wasn’t able to make more than a feeble thud. No one would notice. And if Rogan realized she was awake, he’d likely force another dose of chloroform in her face.

  She relaxed in her cramped position, trying to think against the dull ache in her head. The only hope would be to free her hands and pull the gag from her mouth. Rogan would have to check on her at some time, and she’d be ready to spring at him.

  She rubbed her raw wrists against the bottom of the trunk, nearly crying out in pain, but the gag restricted any sound. She refused to give up. Rogan would not take her back to New York alive.

  ****

  Elliot stood beside Jim on the train platform. They’d already inquired at the destination of the train and learned it was bound for Philadelphia. Now, they had to plan their next move.

  Jim’s badge would gain them access to the train before it left the station, but he wanted to study the passengers boarding first. “If luck’s with us,” he explained to Elliot, “we’ll spot Morrissey before he boards.”

  They split up and searched wagons, carriages, and the faces of people hurrying to catch the train or buy tickets. No one matched Morrissey’s description.

  “We’ll have to board.” Jim stepped to Elliot’s side and motioned him to the nearest conductor. “We have a possible kidnapping. My friend’s wife.” He pointed to Elliot, earning a sympathetic glance from the conductor.