A Worthy Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  “Fine.” Miss Winters swept past them into the building.

  Aurora turned back to Gabe. The sorrowful look on his face matched the dread that filled her heart.

  How would Rylan and Colleen handle losing baby Ivy and possibly little Delia, as well?

  So this was how it would feel to have Maggie as his wife, caring for their infant daughter.

  Adam leaned back in his chair and watched Maggie rock the baby. The glow from the fire highlighted the expression of love on her face as she cooed and sang to the little girl. The poignancy of the moment, the contentment he felt at simply being in their presence, created a warm bubble in Adam’s chest.

  If only this were real, or even a distant possibility.

  They’d spent a pleasant day together. Adam had fixed a few things around Rylan’s house that needed repair, and Maggie cooked a wonderful meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes while little Ivy dozed. For a brief moment in time, it seemed as though they existed in their own little cocoon—safe from the Neill Fitzgeralds of the world, safe from those who knew of Adam’s criminal past, and safe from the threat of an epidemic.

  A noise in the hall had Adam snapping to attention. He motioned for Maggie to stay put in her rocker as he headed into the hallway. The front door opened as Adam reached it, and Rylan entered. Words of greeting died on Adam’s lips when he spied the woman standing behind his brother-in-law.

  “Jolene. What are you doing here?” Though he asked the question, his gut told him the answer.

  That and Rylan’s stricken countenance.

  “You two know each other, I see.” Rylan made way for Jolene to enter.

  “Yes. Why is Jolene with you?”

  Rylan’s ravaged expression told of the ordeal he’d been forced to bear. “She came to St. Rita’s . . . to claim her daughter.”

  Adam’s mouth went dry. Deep down, he’d suspected Jolene would eventually change her mind and regret giving Ivy away.

  Jolene pushed forward. “Is my baby all right? Has she got the fever?”

  “So far she’s fine.” Despite the emotions threatening to engulf him, Adam managed to keep calm.

  “Where is she?” Rylan asked tightly.

  “In the parlor with Maggie.”

  By the time the three of them entered the room, Maggie was on her feet, clutching the bundle to her shoulder. Her wide eyes moved from Adam to Rylan and then landed on Jolene. Maggie’s arms tightened around the baby. “What’s going on?”

  Adam wished he could spare Maggie this pain. But no matter how much they disliked it, Jolene had a right to her child. “Maggie, this is Jolene. Ivy’s mother.”

  “My baby.” Jolene pushed past him across the carpet.

  Maggie stepped back, protectively shielding the child, who let out a howl. Maggie began to sway. “Shh, darling. Everything’s all right.”

  Though Maggie’s tone was soothing, her glare was fierce. “You’ll not be taking this child without Colleen here. She’s mothered this baby from the moment you chose to discard her like a worn-out toy.” Moisture rimmed her eyes, magnifying their pale beauty, as she turned to Rylan. “Does Colleen know about this?”

  He nodded. “Aye, but she couldn’t leave Delia.”

  Adam moved between the women. “Jolene, we won’t know if Ivy’s contracted the fever for a week or more. It would be in her best interest to let her remain here, where the doctor will come to check on her.”

  Jolene plucked at the top button of her coat, panic in her eyes.

  Adam laid a hand on her shoulder, hoping to calm her apparent agitation. “If she hasn’t shown any signs of illness in the next week, you can take her then.” It wasn’t much, but it would bide them time and give Colleen a chance for a proper good-bye. He prayed Jolene’s concern for her child would outweigh her desperation to take her now.

  She wrung her hands together. “I know what you’re doing. This is a trick to get me to change my mind. Well, it won’t work.” She clamped her thin lips together and lunged for Maggie. “Give me my child.”

  Maggie held her ground, not releasing her hold on Ivy. “If you care about your daughter’s well-being, you’ll leave her where she’s better off. What will you do if she develops typhoid?”

  A hint of fear flickered over Jolene’s face before a hardness settled there. “If she needs a doctor, I’ll find her one.”

  “And medicine? Will you be able to afford that? Do you even have a decent place to live?” Maggie’s voice quivered.

  Jolene lifted her chin. “It may not be as fancy as this, but I have a room. And a job. I’ve friends who will help me take care of her when I’m . . . working.”

  Adam’s gut clenched, knowing exactly what type of work she’d be doing. He forced himself not to picture the saloon and the type of accommodation Jolene would have there. Adam didn’t know all the legalities involved in this type of situation, but if Rylan was allowing Jolene to take the baby, it must mean she had the law on her side. Still, Adam would make it a point to see that Ivy was properly cared for, and if he found otherwise, he’d call in whatever authorities necessary to ensure the child’s well-being.

  Rylan seemed to come out of a daze. He turned to Maggie and released a ragged breath. “I’m afraid we have no choice, Maggie. Give her the child.”

  For a moment, Maggie remained frozen, as though she hadn’t heard him, but then, with a quiet sob, she lifted Ivy from her shoulder. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the blanket away from the baby’s face. “God be with you, little one.” She kissed the top of Ivy’s head, and then, instead of handing the baby to Jolene, Maggie held her out to Rylan.

  Adam had seldom seen such anguish on a man’s face as he lifted the still-whimpering infant.

  “Good-bye, sweet Ivy. We were blessed to have you in our lives for a short time. We’ll pray for you always.” He kissed her and then handed her to Jolene, tears streaming down both cheeks.

  Adam’s throat tightened so that he could barely breathe.

  In direct contrast to their sorrow, Jolene’s face lit with joy. “My sweet girl. It’s okay now. Your mama’s here.”

  Adam couldn’t look at Maggie, couldn’t bear to see her grief. Couldn’t think of the almost-finished cradle Ivy would never sleep in. Or the pain his sister must be enduring. “I’ll walk you to the streetcar, Jolene.”

  “Wait. You’ll need another blanket. Ivy mustn’t get a chill.” Maggie rushed from the room, and seconds later her footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Rylan said in a strangled voice, “I’d best get back to the orphanage.”

  Moments after Rylan left, Maggie returned with a bonnet and a thicker woolen blanket.

  “Thank you,” Jolene said softly as she accepted the bundle.

  Maggie’s bottom lip quivered. “Just take good care of her.”

  Adam longed to stay and comfort her, but for the baby’s sake, he wanted to make sure Jolene didn’t walk the whole way to the saloon. The streetcar would be quicker and safer. “I’ll be back soon,” he said to Maggie. “Lock the door behind me.”

  Aurora paused outside the sickroom to lay a hand over her stomach. What could she say to a woman whose daughter was fighting for her life and who’d just lost the infant she’d hoped to adopt?

  “Are you all right, Miss Hastings?” Dr. Reardon’s voice sounded behind her.

  “Yes.” She straightened. “Just trying to determine what to say to Colleen.”

  The doctor touched her shoulder, and she turned to face him. “As a nurse, this is only one of the difficult things you’ll be required to do. If you’re having doubts, you may need to rethink your decision.”

  She straightened her back. “I can handle it, Doctor. I won’t change my mind—no matter how difficult.”

  Approval lit his brown eyes, and he gave a slight nod. “Good to know. Now, let’s go in and check on our patients.”

  With a swish of his white coat, he sailed into the room, confidence evident with every step.
Eight small beds, four on each side, now swamped the room. If any more children fell ill, they’d have to use one of the dormitories or set up beds in the common room. Dr. Reardon was treating Mrs. Norton, and now two of the nuns who had fallen ill, but they were being treated in their own rooms.

  Aurora fought back waves of weariness. How she longed for a full night’s sleep. But even the thought brought a rise of guilt. How could she complain when the children were suffering so?

  “Aurora.”

  Her heart lightened at the sound of her name, and she turned with a ready smile for Gabe. The only blessing in this nightmare had been spending so much time with him. Gabe had been a pillar of strength throughout this whole ordeal, quietly doing whatever tasks she or the doctor required of him. The fatigue was affecting him, too. She could tell by the shadows beneath his eyes and the lines bracketing his mouth. Still, he managed a grin as he came toward her. “You do realize the doctor is in love with you, don’t you?”

  She gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The man can barely keep his eyes off you. Not that I blame him.”

  She smoothed the front of her apron, hoping to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re talking nonsense when we’ve work to do.”

  He sobered. “That’s why I’ve come. To see my niece. Any sign of improvement?”

  “The doctor is checking Delia now. Why don’t you come in with me?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got a few minutes to spare before I start moving beds into the common room. The doc needs a bigger area to work in.”

  They entered the room, and Gabe headed straight for Delia’s cot. Colleen and Rylan hovered near the foot of the bed while Dr. Reardon examined the girl.

  Aurora made a quick tour of her patients, making sure all the other children were comfortable before joining the group at Delia’s side. The girl lay, eyes closed, unmoving beneath the blankets.

  Dr. Reardon jotted a few notes on his clipboard and looked up, his expression grim.

  “I’m afraid Delia is experiencing the worst of the illness. All we can do now is keep her hydrated, monitor her symptoms . . . and pray.”

  Colleen pressed her face into Rylan’s shoulder, silent sobs shaking her frame. Gabe offered the pair his condolences and then grimly left the room, presumably to continue his tasks downstairs.

  Aurora longed to go after him, but her patients here needed her attention.

  She straightened her back and moved to the first bed. “Doctor, would you check on Felicia, please? Her temperature has risen and her pain seems worse.”

  “Right away.”

  Aurora accompanied Dr. Reardon as he examined all the children and made notations on their charts.

  When he finished, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m worried about Johnnie and Felicia,” he said quietly. “They don’t seem to be responding as well as the others. We must watch them carefully for the next forty-eight hours.”

  Aurora nodded. She’d observed the same thing. If she thought she was tired now, the next few days would test the limits of her stamina.

  Please God, help us all get through the worst of this disease.

  21

  MAGGIE FINISHED PACKING a few articles of clothing and toiletries into her small valise. There would be no staying in her brother’s home now that baby Ivy no longer needed her.

  She scanned the room one last time and attempted to ward off the cloud of melancholy. Losing Ivy had hit her harder than she could have imagined. All along she’d feared Colleen and Rylan had become too attached to the mite, but she hadn’t counted on becoming smitten herself. She ached for the sorrow her brother and sister-in-law must be experiencing, and for their worry over Delia on top of Ivy’s departure.

  Maggie closed her bag and descended the stairs to the main level. In the likelihood that she’d be gone for a while, she would empty the icebox and bring any perishable food with her.

  As she finished tidying the kitchen, someone rapped on the front door. Maggie hurried to peer out the side window and, seeing Adam on the step, allowed him in.

  The grim set to his jaw told her how hard this evening had been for him, as well.

  “Did Jolene make the streetcar all right?”

  “She did.” He twisted his cap between his fingers, his brows slashing his forehead. “I don’t think you should stay here alone, now that—”

  She pointed to her bag in the hallway. “I know. Just let me get the food from the kitchen.”

  A few minutes later, they locked the house and began the two-block walk to the orphanage. With Adam beside her, Maggie had no fear for her safety.

  She glanced sideways at him as they walked. “What will you do now?”

  “I’ve had no direct contact with the illness, so I should be fine. But I’ll stay away from anyone until I’m sure.”

  Maggie nodded, hating to think of him relegated to the church basement. “You could come to the orphanage, too. I’m sure there’s plenty of work to keep you occupied.”

  They reached the front steps at St. Rita’s, and Adam stopped, pinning her with a frank stare. “I think you know why that’s not a good idea. Things have become . . . complicated between us. Being confined here will only heighten feelings that need to fade.”

  She’d wondered how he would act after their kiss. Now she had her answer. Maggie sighed. “Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

  Adam gave a sad smile. “I fear I must be sensible for the both of us.”

  For the second time that night, Maggie’s heart squeezed with sorrow, preventing her from saying anything further.

  “If you need me, you can reach me through John McNabb at the Shepherd of Good Hope Church.”

  The night breeze blew stray strands of hair about her face as she reached up to kiss his cheek, wishing she had the nerve to linger. “Take care of yourself, Adam,” she whispered. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  She lifted her skirts to climb the stairs and then, with a last lingering look at his anguished face, she entered the building.

  Aurora’s usual optimism had deserted her, leaving her clinging to a last thread of hope. Seated beside Delia’s bed, she twisted a damp handkerchief between her fingers. No matter how many times she bathed the girl’s face, her temperature refused to drop. She supposed she should be grateful it hadn’t worsened, but to see a once-healthy child this helpless caused an irrational fear that overwhelmed the comfort prayer normally afforded.

  She reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from the child’s forehead. “Please get better, Delia. Your family needs you.”

  Once again, Aurora found herself fighting tears of helpless frustration that she could do nothing more to heal her. She blinked back the moisture, hoping to dispel the depression that plagued her.

  “Miss Hastings, may I speak to you in private, please?”

  Aurora reluctantly moved her hand away. “Right away, Doctor.”

  She made a deliberate effort to smooth the covers, then paused to check on little Greta before sedately following Dr. Reardon into the hallway. An unnatural hush hovered over the building, unnerving Aurora further.

  “We can talk in Mr. Montgomery’s office.”

  The grim lines on Dr. Reardon’s face added to Aurora’s dismay. Did he have bad news to impart? Or had she made an error with one of the patients?

  “Please sit down.”

  Aurora complied while he took Rylan’s chair and folded his hands on the desktop. Nothing about his manner eased her anxiety.

  “I wanted you to know that I’ve engaged the services of a nurse from the hospital to assist here.” He gave her an apologetic glance across the desk. “I resisted bringing anyone else into the situation, not wishing to expose anyone unnecessarily. However, Mrs. Patterson has already survived typhoid fever and has no qualms about coming. She’ll arrive later today.”

  Aurora shifted on her chair. “Is there a problem with my work?”

  He smiled, creating fine lines around his ey
es. “No, no. You’ve done your best despite difficult circumstances. I fear it was my selfishness that got you into this unfortunate situation. I should never have insisted you accompany me before determining the extent of the illness.”

  A flush heated Aurora’s cheeks under the directness of his gaze. “It’s not your fault. You had no idea it would be so serious.”

  “Still, I can’t help but feel guilty at the risk I’ve exposed you to unnecessarily.”

  “Nothing I won’t face as a nurse.” She rose and smoothed her apron.

  The doctor rose, as well, and studied her for several seconds, as if debating adding something further. At last, he nodded. “I’m certain Mrs. Patterson will prove an excellent role model.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  Dr. Reardon came around the desk. “One more thing before you go. I neglected to mention that your father came by earlier today.”

  Aurora held back a gasp of dismay. She’d spoken to her mother several times on the phone, but always when Papa was at work. “What did he want?”

  “To take you home.” A touch of amusement lit his warm eyes.

  Aurora’s fingers tightened on the chair back. “How did you get him to leave?”

  “I told him you had to remain until we’re certain that you haven’t contracted the illness.”

  “And he accepted this?” Aurora couldn’t imagine anyone stopping her father when he was on a mission, especially when that mission concerned his only daughter.

  “Not at first. But I convinced him I was looking out for your welfare and that you would be in touch with him soon.”

  She released a tiny sigh of relief, and the pressure on her ribs lessened. “Thank you, Doctor. I hope my father wasn’t too adversarial.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve handled worse in my time.” A hint of a smile twitched the doctor’s mustache. “Come. Let’s get back to work.”

  As Aurora accompanied him back to the sickroom, an uneasy suspicion arose. Dr. Reardon appeared far too pleased with himself. And for Papa to leave without seeing her, something must have transpired. Aurora prayed it had nothing to do with an anticipated match to the esteemed doctor. For no matter who her father tried to pair her with, Aurora feared that only one man held the key to her heart.