by Gina Welborn
“That’s strange,” she murmured. “I watched the bellman load everything onto the cart. I even remarked to him how impressive his stacking was.”
“Impressive stacking skills aside,” he said without any amusement in his tone, “not all the luggage arrived.”
“Let me wake up Victoria and ask her because she walked down to the lobby with the bellman while the girls and I finished gathering our things.”
Colette hurried to the stateroom they shared. She opened the door and…there, lying on a lower berth bench, was one of the envelopes from the stationery Colette had purchased for each girl. For Letty was written on the front. She snatched it up, ripping the side, then pulling out the letter, her heart pounding frantically.
I appreciate all everyone has done to give me a new start. Please don’t look for me. This is my choice. This is what I want. We both know you have to respect that.
Tears blurred Colette’s eyes. The underlined words have to ripped into her heart. When she’d agreed to do this trip for her parents, she promised to adhere to all the benefactor’s rules and requirements. Rule number three required she respect Victoria’s choice, no matter how much it hurt.
And it hurt.
Mother and Father had both warned of the possibility of a girl leaving the train before reaching the academy, but Colette never dreamed it would happen. In all the years her parents had been rescuing girls, not one had ever left. And now she understood—finally understood—why her parents had allowed her to languish ten days in jail instead of paying her fine and rescuing her from the rickety cot and bad food.
She had made a foolish mistake.
She had to suffer the consequences.
Because sometimes the most loving thing was to not spare a loved one from the consequences of her imprudent decisions.
Colette felt Mr. Jacobs draw up behind her. She held the letter up for him to read.
“I’ll find Victoria,” he said in a firm tone that she knew meant he wouldn’t give up until he did.
Colette spun around. “Be reasonable. You won’t make it back to the train on time.”
“I know.” He gripped the sides of her arms. “But I won’t let Victoria make a foolish mistake. Once you and the girls reach Manhattan, book a room in the nicest hotel so I know where to find you. Don’t take them to the academy right away. Wait for me and Victoria to arrive.” He turned to leave.
“No, Matthew,” Colette cried, yanking him back. “We have to respect Victoria’s decision, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“She’s sixteen years old! She doesn’t know what she wants.”
Colette swallowed uncomfortably. “I can’t convince you to not to do this, can I?”
He shook his head. “I can change her mind. I know I can.” He then dashed out of the stateroom before she could say more.
Hazel and Ada stepped out into the corridor, clenching each other’s hands. Wet tear trails moistened Hazel’s cheeks.
“We heard everything,” Ada said softly. “Why didn’t you tell him that Victoria was free to leave if she wanted? It’s a rule. Didn’t you tell him the rules?”
“I did tell him the rules,” Colette snapped. “Right after he boarded the train in Billings, I explained to him each rule, just like I reminded you three of them while we waited for him to arrive.”
Ada shrugged as if to say, You must not have explained clearly enough.
Hazel began crying.
Colette started forward to hug Hazel, but then Ada blocked her path. “Rule number two: Don’t form attachments.” She then led Hazel back into their stateroom. The door closed with a click.
“I told him clearly enough,” Colette whispered into the empty corridor. She had to have. She had no reason not to, and one important reason why she would have: Proving to her parents she could follow someone else’s rules. If she’d told him, then why was he chasing after Victoria?
Because Matthew Jacobs rescued people in need.
* * * *
Manhattan, Kansas
Wednesday, September 12
Jakob exited the Cottage Hotel, his gaze on the numerous children and adults in the park on the other side of the street, enjoying the afternoon. The day was windy, warm, and sunny enough to fly kites. He’d intended to find Letty immediately. After a day of searching for Victoria and another day traveling direct to Manhattan, he’d needed a bath, clean clothes, and a better attitude before he confronted Letty about the benefactor’s rule…and about his feelings for her. He hadn’t realized the degree of his loneliness until the train departed St. Paul and he had a bench to himself and no one to talk to and laugh with on the journey.
He stopped at the intersection and took a moment to close his eyes and pray for wisdom and understanding, something he vowed to do more regularly. Letty had to have had a reason for not telling him about rule number three. She wouldn’t have willfully deceived him.
After a whispered “Amen,” he opened his eyes.
A middle-aged gentleman rode in front of a group of bicyclists. Two dozen or so followed him, all wearing matching green uniforms, the women in bloomers. They traveled in one long line like a train with numerous cars. A lady with a red feather in her cap brought up the tail end. A few people in Helena rode bicycles. Never in a group.
“The man in front is Professor Lockhart,” said the spectacle-wearing brunette who Jakob hadn’t noticed until now was standing next to him. “I could tell by the look on your face that you were wondering. His bicycling club is preparing for the NCU race next weekend in Kansas City.”
“NCU?”
“National Cyclists’ Union.”
Jakob eyed the stack of textbooks she was carrying, including a cycling magazine on top. “Are you a student of his?”
“He’s my English professor. Oh, there’s my fiancé. Have a good day, sir.” She darted to a bright red phaeton with a fringed canopy top.
Seeing a lull in the traffic, Jakob jogged across the dirt-hardened street to the park. He found Letty sitting on a secluded bench under a stately oak tree, clapping in tune to the man playing a trumpet while Hazel and Ada flew kites.
Jakob made his way slowly toward her, enjoying the freedom to study her without her realizing he was watching. Her expression of delight would have taken his breath away even if he wasn’t already desperately aware of how empty life was without her. He loved everything about Letty. Her optimism. Her confidence. Her kindness to others. Especially her freckles, bright copper hair, and penchant to live as though life was too short not to have fun. He was three steps away when she stopped clapping.
She turned, and that smile he’d often dreamed about was brightening her face. She then looked beyond him. Her gaze lost its joy.
“You didn’t find Victoria?” she asked quietly, yet he heard her words. Felt them.
Jakob sat next to Letty on the bench. “I found her at the Palace.”
“Oh.” Her gaze shifted to where Hazel and Ada were flying kites. “Mr. and Mrs. Gaines took the Pullman on to Kansas City.”
Jakob waited for her to ask about Victoria.
Instead, Letty sat there watching the girls.
“Sebastian Bellamy secured her a job selling concessions,” Jakob said to fill the awkward silence. “When I asked Victoria to leave, she refused. She said rule number three was that all girls had the freedom to get off the train anywhere they wanted and at any point in the journey and that we can’t force any girl to return or even try to convince her not to leave the train. Is that true?”
“It’s the benefactor’s rule.”
Madame Lestraude’s rule.
Jakob shifted on the bench. The day he agreed to work for Madame, he submitted himself to her rules—rules that she never explained, never justified, and never changed. “Letty, why didn’t you tell me about rule number three? I shouldn’t have had to learn it
from Victoria.”
Letty’s gaze stayed on the girls. “I thought I’d told you all three rules. I really did. After you left the train, I replayed in my mind our first conversation. I remember telling you about the first two rules, and then I was intervening in the argument Ada and Hazel were having about the books. I realized I didn’t tell you the last rule. For that I am at fault.” She turned to him. “Please, you have to know I didn’t intend to withhold information or to deceive you. But I’ll understand if it takes time for you to stop feeling as if I did.”
Jakob nodded. Exploring his feeling would have to wait until he had the answers he sought. He opened his mouth to speak, but the look on her face told him she had more to say.
She grimaced. “This is no means a defense of my failure to communicate the rules; however, I had no cause to suspect Hazel, Ada, or Victoria would ever leave the train. Every rescued girl chooses to start a new life at the academy.”
“Except Victoria.”
Letty winced. “I would give anything to make Victoria understand her best chance for a good future was going to school.”
That he understood. He would’ve tossed her over his shoulder and hauled her back to the train if he knew the police wouldn’t have arrested him for kidnapping. “Rules numbers one and two I understand. Why rule number three?”
Letty turned her attention again to Hazel and Ada and their kites. “The girls were forced into prostitution. The benefactor wants every girl rescued to understand she is free to choose her future, whether that be school, honorable employment, marriage, or even prostitution. No one is forcing her to do anything she doesn’t want. The benefactor wants to empower the girls with options.”
That sounded like Madame.
Jakob rested his arm on the back of the bench and inched closer to Letty yet still within the bounds of propriety. He waited for her to say more, because he knew she would.
Her gaze moved away from the girls and settled on him again. “After the benefactor frees the girls from prostitution, they’re taken to… well, I don’t know where exactly, but I do know it’s a safe place where they are ‘helped to heal,’ as my mother says. Once a year, the caretakers decide which girls they feel are emotionally and physically ready to leave the safe place. They bring them to the rendezvous point—the Billings Depot, the first Tuesday in September—where each girl can choose to board the executive charter to be brought to the academy or go back with the caretakers.”
“How does your mother know about the girls?”
Letty grimaced. “I can’t believe I let that slip.”
Jakob refrained from telling her all the other slips she’d made during the course of the trip.
She kept her voice low. “My parents are the usual chaperones who’ve been helping since the rescue ring began. In the year minimum that each girl stays with the caretakers, she’s taught skills that will enable her to find honorable work, including how to read and write if she’s illiterate. The day she’s brought to the train, she’s provided two dresses, shoes, stockings, a Bible, and ten dollars.”
“Mr. Jacobs!”
Jakob looked to the center of the park where Hazel pulled on the string. Her yellow-and-pink kite dipped down, then jerked upward the moment she released it.
Letty applauded. “That was splendid, Hazel!”
Jakob clapped, too. Ada looked his way and lifted her hand in a half-hearted wave. He waved back.
“Now that you’re here,” Letty said, “we should probably take them to the academy, so they have time to settle in before supper.”
“We probably should,” he agreed.
She motioned over her right shoulder. “It’s two blocks that way. We can walk.”
“Not with all their luggage.”
“I had the hotel deliver their luggage this morning.”
“That was smart of you.”
A grin chased away her heavy expression. “I have been known to make a few smart decisions.”
“That you have.” Jakob studied her face. A week ago they were practical strangers. How was it he felt like he’d known her all his life?
She stood. “Shall we?”
They should take the girls to the academy and then try to catch the early evening trains out of Manhattan. They should continue their separate lives. Or they could do nothing. His feelings could be sorted out later. Where the two of them went from here could also be sorted out later. Much could be said for lingering.
Jakob settled back against the bench.
Letty gave him a curious look. “What are you doing?”
“Making this moment last as long as I can.” He motioned to the empty spot next to him. “Care to join me?”
Chapter Eleven
For though a very few hours spent in the hard labor of incessant talking will dispatch more subjects than can really be in common between any two rational creatures, yet with lovers it is different. Between them no subject is finished, no communication is even made, till it has been made at least twenty times over.
—JANE AUSTEN, Sense and Sensibility
Manhattan Female Academy
“Mr. Jacobs, would you wait outside?” Mrs. Stillwell, the headmistress of the academy, folded her hands and rested them atop the notes she’d taken while interviewing Hazel and Ada. They’d arrived at the academy three hours ago, and Mrs. Stillwell invited him and Letty to stay for supper and a tour of the school grounds.
The headmistress had impressed him with her kind nature, easy manner, and the way she interacted with every girl on the campus. He also liked how she hadn’t look stunned when Ada introduced herself as Hazel’s sister, even though the two look nothing alike.
Mrs. Stillwell smiled at him. “I’d like to have a final word with Miss Pool and the girls before Miss Robbins arrives.” Her gaze shifted to where Hazel and Ada sat. “Miss Robbins is a former scholarship recipient, currently a senior at Kansas State Agricultural College, and has volunteered to mentor recipients for the last five years.”
Jakob stood, then stretched his arm across the headmistress’s desk to shake her hand. “May God bless you for caring for the girls.”
“Thank you for escorting Ada and Hazel here safely.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” Jakob strolled to the hall tree to claim his hat.
Hazel and Ada jumped from their chairs and met him at the door. He knelt, and they engulfed him in a hug. To his surprise, Hazel wasn’t the one in tears; Ada bawled against his arm.
Hazel stepped back and withdrew an envelope from the pocket in her skirt. “Mr. Jacobs, will you find the man who rescued me and Victoria and give this to him? I want to thank him for helping us.”
Jakob took the letter with one hand and continued to hold Ada with the other. “Sweetheart, I don’t know who he is, but I know someone who will.”
Madame Lestraude. Would she pass it on?
“He was shorter than you,” Hazel said in a matter-of-fact voice, “and skinny like a beanpole. He wore a red kerchief, but I could see his eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, but kind. Real kind. When he drove me and Victoria away from Helena, he sang songs about Jesus. Ada says the guy who rescued her was much older.”
Jakob felt his mouth gape, his heart pounding.
“Now do you know who rescued me?” Hazel asked.
He nodded.
Finn. When Madame Lestraude recruited Jakob to join her operation, he’d pieced together that Finn Collins had helped rescue girls before he was killed. In one of the few details Madame shared about her operation, she said her rescue ring had cost more than one life.
But it saved many, many more. Including the life of this precious young lady standing in front of him.
“I’ll see that your letter gets delivered.” To Emilia, but only after Jakob confirmed his suspicion that she already knew her first husband—Finn—had been rescuing girls
instead of abducting them. She deserved to read a letter of thanks from one of the girls he’d saved.
Ada drew in a slow, ragged breath. She sniffed, then stepped back. “Mr. Jacobs, I won’t ever forget you.”
Jakob gave her a tender smile. “I won’t forget you, Ada.” He touched Hazel’s cheek. “Or you.” Standing, he slid the envelope in the inner pocket of his suit coat. As the girls returned to their chairs, he opened the door.
The spectacle-wearing girl whom he’d spoken with near the park stood there, her curled hand raised as if she’d been about to knock.
“Ah, Miss Robbins, come in,” said Mrs. Stillwell.
Miss Robbins didn’t move. Her gaze shifted from him to the ladies in the headmistress’s office, and then back to him. “Well, this is awkward,” she said in a cheerful tone belying her words. She didn’t seem uncomfortable. Or embarrassed that they knew of her past. She seemed confident and gracious and, best of all, genuinely happy.
“Thank you,” Jakob whispered, his throat suddenly tight.
Her brow furrowed. “For what?”
She was what he wanted Ada and Hazel to become. If anyone could help them defeat their past, it was someone who had endured the same thing.
Unable to speak, Jakob stepped back so she could enter the office. He closed the door slowly as he listened to her introduce herself to Ada and Hazel. Everything would work out for them, and Victoria, too, he hoped.
He found a spot to sit on a wooden bench in the hall foyer. At the sound of girlish laughter, Jakob looked left. A quartet of girls in gymnasium uniforms hurried past, not a one looking his way. As he turned back to the door to the headmistress’s office, his gaze caught on a series of portraits. The woman in the middle looked…familiar.
Jakob strolled over to the oil paintings. Underneath each was a plaque, except one set of paintings in the middle shared a plaque. He leaned down.
Mr. Sylvester Hollenbeck and Mrs. Pauline Vane Hollenbeck
Founding Members, 1876
“Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”—Romans 12:21
He stood straight, stunned. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the rescued girls were delivered to an academy where a prominent Helena widow had influence. From the moment Letty had admitted there was a financier, he’d suspected Madame Lestraude was working with someone who had the personal connections Madame lacked. It made sense for her to recruit someone well established in Helena before she’d arrived twelve years go.