A Place of Refuge. Janet Lee Barton

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СКАЧАТЬ was writing. Otherwise he’d only pace the floor waiting for Mrs. Heaton to let him know how Miss O’Bryan was.

      He flipped through a few typewritten pages to get back into his writing, but in only moments Luke realized he wouldn’t get any work done this far away from what was going on upstairs.

      He gathered a tablet and pencil and went back upstairs and settled at Mrs. Heaton’s desk. He knew she wouldn’t mind; she’d offered to let him work in here before. Maybe he could at least make a few notes about his next chapter. Luke tried to concentrate on what he was writing but the connection to it and the woman upstairs was so apparent he couldn’t concentrate on anything but her.

      If not for meeting Miss O’Bryan that day in the park, he might not even be writing this book. Her name fit her well, or at least the woman he remembered from that day in the park last summer, when her brother-in-law was threatening both her and her sister.

      She’d shown such dignity that day, but the look in her eyes told him how vulnerable she really was. Ever since that encounter, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind and every time he caught a glimpse of hair the color of hers, he took a second look—at the park, on a trolley, in the tenements, when he’d gone on an assignment from his boss, Michael Heaton. Michael was Mrs. Heaton’s son and owned his own detective agency. Until his marriage this past December, he’d lived here, too.

      Michael felt he had reason to believe that his sister who’d been missing for several years might have wound up living in the tenements. He didn’t want his mother to know of his fears, but he’d confided in Luke that he’d almost given up hope of finding her at all.

      It was the traveling in and out of the tenements that had precipitated the change in his writing career. He liked writing the lighter dime novels that made him a living, along with occasional investigative work for Michael, but over the past few months, his goal had changed. He wanted to make a difference in people’s lives with his writing. What he was working on now was a book that depicted life for those less fortunate in the city, and Luke hoped it would continue to call attention to their plight as Jacob Riis had done with his book, How the Other Half Lives.

      Tonight he realized the woman upstairs had everything to do with the direction his writing had gone in—because of the way she and her sister had been treated that day in the park. The conditions he was afraid they lived in. And seeing her tonight—

      “Luke?” Mrs. Heaton broke into his thoughts.

      He jumped to his feet and came around the desk. “Yes, ma’am? How is she?”

      “The doctor says Kathleen is going to be all right. But he said she’s going to be in some pain for the next few days. He thinks she may have cracked a rib, too. Clara is giving her this week off and we’re going to try to find out how best to help her. She’ll be staying with us for now.”

      “That’s good, I’m glad.” Relief washed over him, knowing she’d be here. He couldn’t explain the strange connection he felt for the young woman, but it was there and it was strong.

      “Evidently her sister’s husband has beaten Kathleen several times, probably because she comes to her sister’s defense and keeps her from taking the beating,” Mrs. Heaton continued. “Clara says Kathleen’s sister, Colleen, is expecting a child. However, after tonight, she realized she had to get Kathleen out of there. Colleen was afraid that if she didn’t, her husband might hurt Kathleen even worse.”

      Luke felt his lip curl in disdain for the man. “Kathleen will be safe here. I’ll see that she is.”

      “I know you will. She’s awake now and trying to remember what happened and why she’s here. Things are slowly coming back to her. I’m going to take a food tray up to her and see if we can get her to eat something. I’ll let her know you were asking about her and helped to get her upstairs.”

      “If you need me for anything at all—”

      “Thank you, Luke. I know where to find you and I’m thankful you are here. We’re going to take care of her.”

      Luke watched his landlady leave the room, thankful that she’d given Kathleen her card last summer. The pretty redhead might not know it, but she was in the best place she could be right now.

      The vision of Kathleen’s face, so lovely under all the swelling and bruising, came to him. He clenched his fist once more and went to look out of the window. He didn’t know how long it would take, but he was going to find that no-good brother-in-law of hers. If the man were lucky, the cops would get to him before Luke did.

      * * *

      Kathleen opened one eye and then the other. A sliver of sunlight creeping through the slit in the draperies told her it was morning. The last thing she remembered from the night before was the nice lady... Kathleen closed her eyes and concentrated. Mrs. Heaton. Yes, the woman who’d given her a card last summer and who owned the home she’d been sent to...last night?

      She took a deep breath. Why was she having such a hard time putting her thoughts together? Her face, her temple, her whole head ached, but nowhere near as bad as the night before—until she reached up to touch the bandage on her temple. The light contact was enough to make the throb feel like a pounding hammer.

      She closed her eyes against the pain and held her breath until it eased off a bit. Then she lay as still as she could until she felt she could open her eyes once more.

      Her mind flooded with unconnected memories. She remembered telling her coworkers good-night and leaving work. Money had been especially tight lately, so, though she was tired, Kathleen hadn’t given in to the urge to take the trolley. Instead, she’d trudged over to Second Avenue and down to Eighth Street to the tenement building where she lived with her sister and her family. They seemed to have traded one pitiful existence for another since they’d left Ireland two years ago. Believing they’d have a better life in America, they’d pooled what little they had to make the trip, only to find life wasn’t any easier here.

      She didn’t think the dreadful place could ever be home to her or her family. All the buildings in the area seemed the same to Kathleen. They were made of brick, with stoops in front. The six and seven stories housed scores of families, some even larger than hers, crowded in two-and three-room apartments. One had to know the number of the building and where it set on the street to be sure of where they were going.

      But last night, as she’d neared their tenement and saw her nephews sitting on the stoop, her heart had dipped into her stomach and she’d felt a little sick. She’d known something wasn’t right. Collin and Brody had looked at her with their big blue eyes and she could see they’d been crying. She’d bent and hugged them when they ran to her.

      “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she’d asked.

      Collin had answered, “Papa came home early and started yelling and—”

      “He was really loud.” Brody wiped a hand across his eyes. “Mama started crying, and he yelled more.”

      “Mama sent us out.”

      Kathleen’s heart constricted with dread. “Well, now, I’m sure things aren’t as bad as you’re thinkin’. Your papa does get worked up a bit at times. I’ll go see what all the ruckus is about.”

      She hadn’t wanted to take the boys, but—

      A knock sounded on the door, bringing her out of her СКАЧАТЬ