A Worthy Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  She bit her painted lip, staring at him with hard brown eyes. “Why would you want to help Jolene?”

  “Didn’t I always treat you girls with respect?” He kept his tone steady.

  “Yeah, you were a real gentleman.” She didn’t make it sound like a compliment.

  Adam weighed his choices and opted for the truth. “I saw Jolene outside St. Rita’s orphanage the other day. I think she may have left a baby there.”

  Fran’s gaze skittered away. She folded her arms across her waist and took a few steps across the room.

  Adam followed her. “Did Jolene have a baby?”

  No response.

  “Did you?”

  She whirled around. “I’m not that stupid.”

  “Then who?”

  The woman clamped her lips shut, her foot tapping on the warped floorboards.

  “Come on, Fran. There’s a little girl whose life may depend on me finding her mother.” A slight exaggeration, but one he hoped would accomplish his goal. He didn’t know much about babies except that they fared better with their mothers, and holding that fragile life in his arms had made Adam feel responsible for the little girl’s well-being.

  Sure enough, a flash of sympathy softened Fran’s sharp features. “Is the baby okay?”

  “For now, but she’ll have a better chance if she’s with her mother.”

  Fran pulled a rickety chair over and sank onto it with a shuddering sigh. “You’re right. It’s Jolene’s. She asked me not to say anything. She needs her job here, and if Max knew about the baby, he might not hire her.”

  “Did he?”

  Fran nodded. “She starts tonight.” She raised tormented eyes to Adam. “I don’t know how she’s going to do it. She’s still weak from the birth.”

  Adam bit back an oath. “Did Jolene want to keep the baby?”

  Fran gave a sad smile. “She’d give anything to be able to keep her. But she has nowhere to live, no way to earn money other than . . . this.” She spread out her hand to indicate her cheap gown.

  Adam nodded. “If I had the means to change that, I would. Being fresh out of jail, I’m having a rough go of it myself.”

  “So the rumors were true.”

  “Yes, and I’d prefer that Max not find out I was here.” Adam paused. “Will you tell Jolene what I said? She can reach me at the orphanage.”

  Fran rose and smoothed out her skirt. “I’ll tell her. But I can’t promise anything more.”

  Adam nodded. “Fair enough. Take care of yourself, Francine.” He moved to the door. “Tell Marty thanks.”

  Before she could reply, Adam strode down the hall and out a side door that led to the alley. He adjusted his cap, glanced around to make sure no one saw him, and walked out to the street, where he took his first full breath since entering the saloon.

  Seated at Colleen and Rylan’s dining room table for Sunday dinner, Maggie passed the bowl of peas to Gabe. He grinned and gave her a saucy wink. She studied him as she spooned gravy onto her potatoes. For someone who hadn’t wanted to come to America, her brother seemed extra cheery lately. Something told Maggie that the change in his demeanor might be due to more than his volunteer work at the fire department.

  She had a feeling it involved a woman. If so, perhaps Gabe may not be in such a hurry to leave at the end of the summer, after all.

  Colleen reached down to coo at Ivy—as she’d started calling the babe—in the wicker basket at her feet. Since the child had arrived, Colleen hadn’t let her out of her sight. Nor would she allow Ivy to stay at the orphanage, despite Sister Veronica’s assurance that the child would be fine with them.

  “This baby needs constant care,” Colleen had told her. “And I’m more than willing to provide it.”

  Rylan’s troubled expression as he watched his wife told Maggie that he was as worried as she about Colleen becoming too attached to the infant. If the mother came back to claim her, or if some couple adopted the wee darling, Colleen would be heartbroken.

  Colleen straightened, obviously satisfied that Ivy was content, and beamed a smile across the table. “Do you need help with the potatoes, Delia?”

  The girl struggled with the serving spoon. “Aunt Maggie can help me.” The girl sent Maggie a pleading look.

  “Of course I can.”

  Since the baby’s arrival, Maggie sensed Delia feeling left out and tried to pay extra attention to her niece whenever possible.

  Colleen plucked a roll from the basket. “I understand the Hastingses have moved into a hotel while repairs are being done on their house.”

  Maggie noted with interest the way Gabe perked up at the mention of the name.

  Colleen handed Gabe the basket. “Poor Dorothy and Aurora. I can’t imagine what this has been like for them. Did you know their cook was responsible? She forgot a pot on the stove when she went to bed.”

  “They were all lucky the woman sounded the alarm so quickly. The whole house could have burned down.” Gabe’s grave tone matched his expression.

  “I think Dorothy will be looking for a new cook after this. And speaking of cooks, Mrs. Norton has hired a woman part time for the orphanage kitchen. Rylan managed to rearrange the budget to allow her some assistance. So Mary will be starting tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be sure and introduce myself, then.” Maggie buttered a roll, hoping this new cook would be half as good as Mrs. Norton, who supplied the Montgomerys with much of their baking.

  A knock sounded on the front door.

  Rylan frowned “Are we expecting anyone?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  When he excused himself to answer the door, Maggie’s appetite deserted her. What if Adam had found Ivy’s mother and the woman had come to claim her child?

  The murmur of male voices reached her ears.

  Seconds later, Rylan appeared in the doorway. “Colleen, Adam is here. He’d like to speak with you.”

  Maggie’s heart jumped into her throat. Oh Lord, help Colleen face whatever it is he’s found out.

  Colleen rose from her chair. “Maggie, will you watch the baby for me?”

  “Of course.”

  Delia hopped off her perch. “I want to see Uncle Adam.”

  “Not tonight, Delia.” Rylan’s unusually stern voice stopped Delia cold. “Finish your dinner, please. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  With a mutinous frown, Delia climbed back onto her chair while Colleen followed Rylan out of the room.

  Gabe set down his fork. “What do you think that’s all about?”

  Maggie held back a sigh. “I’m afraid Adam may have word about . . .” She gestured to the baby, not wanting to say too much in front of Delia.

  “Oh. Then I hope it’s good news.” But his expression told her he had the same doubts as she.

  Maggie couldn’t manage to eat another bite. Every sense remained attuned to the room down the hall. She had to know what was going on in that parlor.

  “I think we need more gravy.” She lifted the container and pushed away from the table.

  “Maggie.” Gabe’s warning growl failed to stop her. She’d grown used to ignoring her brothers.

  “Keep an eye on the children,” she whispered as she passed his chair.

  Instead of entering the kitchen, Maggie stopped outside the parlor door, thankful it wasn’t fully closed and that she had no trouble making out Adam’s deep voice.

  “Did Maggie tell you about the woman I saw in front of the orphanage the day I found the baby?” he asked.

  “No, she didn’t.” Rylan’s tone was suspicious.

  “I recognized the woman. She worked in a saloon I used to frequent.”

  There was a pause, and Maggie strained her ears to hear more.

  A weighty sigh sounded. “There’s no easy way to say this. The woman is a prostitute.”

  Colleen gasped. Maggie’s stomach dipped as she tried not to imagine how Adam was acquainted with such a woman.

  “I went to find her, but she wasn’t
there.”

  “You went back to that place?” Colleen practically hissed.

  “I didn’t want to, trust me. But I did it for the babe. She needs her mother.”

  “Not a mother like that.”

  Maggie cringed at Colleen’s tone, which hovered between disdain and hysteria.

  “As Christians, aren’t we supposed to treat everyone with respect?” Adam’s calm question filtered out into the hall. “Having made my own mistakes, I cannot presume to judge Jolene for her actions.”

  Jolene? So he knew her by name, then. Maggie’s pride at Adam’s nonjudgmental attitude warred with a sudden surge of jealousy. Had he known Jolene as more than friends? She didn’t dare consider the possibility.

  “If this Jolene is such a paragon, why did she leave her innocent baby under a bush?”

  “Come now, darlin’.” Rylan’s soft voice tugged at Maggie. “Let’s hear the rest of what Adam came to tell us.”

  “I spoke with another woman at the saloon who admitted the child is Jolene’s. Jolene wanted to keep her, but her lifestyle is not exactly conducive to nurturing an infant.”

  Maggie’s heart broke for the woman, trapped by her circumstances with no way to change them, forced to give up her child.

  “I left word where Jolene can reach me. Other than that, there’s not much more I can do.”

  “Do . . . do you think she’ll come back for Ivy?”

  “Ivy?”

  “That’s what I’ve called her. Seems fitting since you found her in the foliage.”

  A low chuckle sounded. “It’s a lovely name, Colleen.”

  Maggie couldn’t stand it. She had to peek around the doorframe. When she did, the compassion on Adam’s face almost brought her to tears.

  Colleen sniffed. “Do you think she’ll want Ivy back?” she asked again.

  Adam shrugged. “You never know. It might have been a hasty decision, one she may later regret.” He lay a hand on Colleen’s shoulder. “Don’t get too attached, Colleen. Not yet anyway.”

  Colleen crumpled the handkerchief between her fingers. “I’m afraid it’s too late. I love that little girl, and I intend to keep her.”

  “Are your eyes dropping, Aunt Maggie?”

  Maggie jumped at Delia’s voice by her elbow. Gravy sloshed over the side of the container and onto her dress. “Delia! You startled me.”

  The girl stared up at her. “Daddy says it’s not polite to eyes drop.”

  Rylan appeared in the doorway. “That’s right, Delia. Your Aunt Maggie knows better than to eavesdrop, too.”

  Heat scorched Maggie’s cheeks as her focus moved past Rylan to the amused expression on Adam’s face.

  Colleen appeared beside her husband. “Maggie has every right to know what’s going on. After all, she was the first one to look after Ivy.”

  “Thank you, Colleen.” Maggie attempted to gather her dignity and threw her brother a frosty glare. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some gravy to clean up.”

  Adam bit back a chuckle as Maggie stalked off to the kitchen with Colleen close behind. “I imagine Maggie was a handful as a child.”

  Rylan rolled his eyes. “You have no idea how many hours my mother spent on her knees over that one.” He gave Adam a rueful smile. “I pity the man who becomes her husband. He’ll have a time reining her in.”

  The two men shared a grin, then a movement at the door claimed their attention.

  A dark-haired man entered the parlor, so similar in looks to Rylan that Adam knew he had to be his brother.

  “Colleen said to tell you she’s putting the baby to bed.” He paused inside the door. “You must be Adam. I’m Gabe.”

  Adam nodded. “Good to meet you.”

  Gabe came forward to shake his hand. “Colleen’s told us you’re working hard to get your life back on track, and I commend you for that.”

  “Thank you.” Adam stiffened, bracing for the comment that was sure to come next.

  “I’m happy Rylan could give you some work to tide you over.” Gabe paused, a slight frown whispering over his features. “By the same token, I’m sure you understand why we have reservations about any type of . . . connection . . . between you and our sister. ’Twouldn’t be proper for a young lady to associate with a criminal.”

  Although the words were spoken in a gentle manner, Adam felt as though he’d been sucker-punched. A criminal. That would be the label he’d wear for the rest of his life—no matter what he did to redeem himself. The two men standing shoulder to shoulder in unity told him as much.

  “I understand,” he said quietly. “Be assured I would never do anything to harm Maggie or her reputation.” He tugged his cap back on. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  Adam couldn’t fault Gabe or Rylan for their caution. He’d feel exactly the same if any of his sisters were to strike up a friendship with someone like him. Still, it didn’t erase the sting.

  He didn’t dare glance into the kitchen on his way out of the house lest he catch sight of Maggie. Not wishing to see her in this raw state, he pushed out the front door and down the stairs to the walkway below, only then allowing himself to breathe.

  When the door opened behind him, he steeled himself for another confrontation.

  “Uncle Adam? You didn’t say good-bye.”

  The tiny voice caused prickles of guilt to erupt in Adam’s chest. He spun around to see Delia standing on the steps, hurt shining in her wide eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Delia. I guess I was in a rush.” He held himself back from scooping her up in a hug, in case Rylan was watching from one of the windows. He wouldn’t appreciate Adam interfering with his daughter any more than his sister.

  “Is my daddy mad at you?”

  The question snatched the air from Adam’s lungs. Her perceptiveness reminded him that children often knew far more than adults gave them credit for. “It’s a long story.” He sat down on one of the stairs, surprised to feel a small hand on his shoulder.

  “I like stories.”

  Her sincere blue gaze bored straight through to Adam’s heart. He owed this child an explanation, and only the truth would do. “Do you know what prison is?”

  She nodded solemnly. “It’s where bad men go.”

  Bad men. Somehow that label hurt more than being called a criminal. “Not everyone who goes to jail is bad. Some just made a mistake.”

  “Did you make a mistake, Uncle Adam?”

  He held her gaze. “I did. And I went to jail as punishment.”

  A movement preceded the sudden weight in his lap. Delia’s arms wound around his neck, and she pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek.

  “You’re not a bad man. If you were, I’d be afraid of you.”

  A boulder-sized knot clogged Adam’s throat. He kissed the top of her head, blond wisps of hair tickling his nose. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Reluctantly, he unwound her arms from his neck. “But we have to honor your daddy’s wishes. You’d best go inside before he gets worried.”

  “Okay.” She paused, hand on the railing. “I love you, Uncle Adam.”

  Another dagger stabbed him. “I love you, too, Delia. Be good for your mommy and daddy.”

  She gave him a sad nod, as if knowing she wouldn’t see him for a while, then quietly went back into the house.

  12

  AURORA STEPPED OUTSIDE THE WARD on the second floor of the hospital and inhaled deeply, seeking relief from the pungent smells inside. She’d been observing the examinations of two polio patients, and between the body odors and the antiseptic scents, Aurora couldn’t wait to breathe clean outside air.

  She started down the tiled hallway but stopped when Dr. Reardon came up behind her.

  “Miss Hastings, if you’re not busy, would you be able to accompany me to St. Rita’s? I’m scheduled to do a follow-up examination on the new infant there, as well as check on a few other children.”

  Aurora turned to face him. This was the first time Dr. Reardon had ever asked her to join him outside of the hospit
al on a patient visit. Whenever she went to the orphanage, it was strictly to visit with the children—never anything medical. “I’m flattered you would want me along. Is there any particular reason?”

  Was it her imagination or did he blush?

  “I thought it would be good experience for you.”

  She still questioned his motivation, but it didn’t really matter. She’d been meaning to make a stop at the orphanage, especially after he’d told her about the newly arrived baby. “I’d love to go along.”

  “Wonderful. Meet me outside in five minutes.”

  The ride in Dr. Reardon’s motorcar proved quite enjoyable. He was a skilled driver and maneuvered through the streets with ease. When he stopped in front of the orphanage, he hurried around to open the door for her and offered a hand to help her alight. She looked up at him and caught the unmistakable flash of attraction in his eyes.

  His hand lingered on hers, and for an instant she thought he might lean in and kiss her. Her heart gave a lurch, but she freed her hand and moved forward, almost tripping on the curb.

  “Careful there.” Dr. Reardon caught her by the elbow.

  She clutched the sleeve of his jacket, her breath coming too fast. The fresh scent of soap and wool invaded her space as she struggled to regain not only her balance but her equilibrium, as well.

  A chuckle sounded from somewhere behind her. “Hello again, Miss Hastings.”

  The familiar Irish lilt made Aurora’s heart gallop. She turned to see a grinning Gabe Montgomery on the sidewalk.

  “Gabriel. I didn’t expect to see you here.” She wished she could do something to cool her flushed cheeks.

  “Are you certain you’re all right, Miss Hastings?” Dr. Reardon’s concerned face inched closer.

  She pulled back, putting some distance between them. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you, Doctor.”

  Gabe came to stand beside her. “What a lucky coincidence to run into you here.” Something akin to pure merriment danced in his eyes.

  If only Dr. Reardon wasn’t watching her as intently as a scientist viewing a specimen in a lab, she might be able to talk in a coherent manner.