Ten
The rail journey north to Westchester County proved to be quite delightful after we crossed the Harlem River and city streets gave way to woodland and meadows. I tried to enjoy the vistas, but I was filled with the usual apprehension I felt at the thought of facing Daniel’s mother, coupled with concern over those I had left behind. I had told Sid and Gus that both the Secret Service and the New York police were actively looking for my brother, and I recounted what Daniel had told me. They promised to be extra careful, but seemed excited at the challenge. Daniel had assured me that he had been perfectly all right on his own for thirty-two years and would not starve to death in my absence. I didn’t tell him it wasn’t starvation I feared. Anarchists were known to be ruthless. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill if anyone got in the way of their plans. I knew that policemen like Daniel faced death every day, but I hadn’t been married long enough to become used to it yet.
As I stared out the window I wondered whether Liam really was working with anarchists and what would happen to him if he was caught. Surely the death penalty. I shuddered and remembered the fatalistic way he had said, “Someone has to carry on my name.” He was practically the only family I had. A woman across the compartment was bouncing a healthy toddler on her lap and I pictured myself doing the same thing this time next year. It was hard to believe that I’d soon have a little one of my own. Then another face came into my head—that poor woman on Broome Street, so sure that the baby returned to her was not the right one. How could that have happened? What would she do now? Try to love a child that wasn’t her own? I felt almost sick at the thought.
I was met at White Plains Station by Mrs. Sullivan’s man, Jonah, with the pony and trap and we set off through leafy lanes for the hamlet of Elmsford, some two miles away. I felt the cares and worries slipping away with the gentle swaying of the trap and the sweet smell of honeysuckle and green meadows. I should learn to stop worrying about things I couldn’t change and enjoy the life I had. I was going to be spoiled by Mrs. Sullivan, and … I remembered the best part … I was going to see little Bridie again. Bridie was the child I had brought across from Ireland who had become dear to me. In fact I would have liked to have her live with us when her father and brother went off to Panama to build the canal, but Daniel had objected. She was ten years old now and Daniel’s mother had volunteered to train her for domestic service, but had taken to her so well that I didn’t think service was in her future.
I found I was smiling when, at long last, we turned off the lane into Mrs. Sullivan’s driveway. The house was one of those simple older homes built of local bluestone in the days when the Hudson Valley was a sleepy backwater of small farms. That had all changed when the railroad granted speedy access to the city and the barons of industry built their own extravagant mansions along the river’s banks. Mrs. Sullivan’s house was not in any way extravagant but was of pleasant appearance with a climbing rose spilling over the porch and French windows opening onto a lawn bordered by a spreading elm and oak tree.
Bridie came rushing out to meet me at the sound of the horse’s hooves, her face alight with excitement. As I was assisted down from the trap she flung her arms around me. She had grown since I saw her last and was looking healthy and well-cared for, her hair neatly braided and her pinafore edged with lace. Mrs. Sullivan followed her out onto the porch and gave me a surprisingly warm welcome.
“Well, there you are,” she said. “Isn’t this nice.” And she let me kiss her on the cheek. Bridie took my hand and tried to drag me up the stairs. “Come and see your room, Molly. I picked fresh flowers for you and the pillow on your bed has lace around the edge that I sewed myself,” she said.
“Heavens, child, give Molly a chance to catch her breath first,” Mrs. Sullivan scolded, but with a smile. She turned to me. “She was up with the sun this morning, so excited about your arrival.” She led me through to the spacious front parlor. “Sit down and we’ll have Bridie bring us some iced tea before you do anything else.” She examined me critically. “You’re looking tired, my dear. It’s not good for you to exert yourself too much. I’m sure the city heat was overwhelming in your condition. I kept telling Daniel he should send you out here for the whole summer.”
“He wanted me to come out to you, but I didn’t want to leave him alone when he has to work so hard.”
The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)
Rhys Bowen's books
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- City of Darkness and Light (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #13)
- Death of Riley (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #2)
- For the Love of Mike (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #3)
- Hush Now, Don't You Cry (Molly Murphy, #11)
- In a Gilded Cage (Molly Murphy, #8)
- In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)
- In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)
- Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)
- Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)
- Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #7)