Rebel with a Heart

“It makes sense that Mr. Clarkly would be a librarian, the way he stacked those books in alphabetical order.” For some reason it didn’t bother her that he might be watching. Funny, when for the last two weeks she’d done nothing but live in fear of folks who stared too intently at her family.

“And Jess, don’t forget, call me Mother. Anyone might hear you.”

“Uncle Alden won’t come to Riverwalk.” Jess shifted the small valise under his left arm to his right. “He’s too afraid of ghosts.”

True, Alden Hanispree had an unnatural fear of them. It was probably the very thing that had spared her sister’s life. Had he not been such a fearful little man he might have murdered Bethany instead of having her committed to his haunted mental hospital.

Still, just because Alden Folger Hanispree was a cowardly man didn’t mean that he wasn’t dangerous.

Dangerous, and greedy for their inheritance, he was a powerful enemy to her niece and nephew.

“He might send someone, though.” Lilleth stopped. She lifted her nephew’s chin in her fingers and looked him in the eye. “I’ll protect you, I swear it. But Jess, we can’t be too careful. Watch every word you say and don’t trust anyone but me.”

“I wish my father was still alive. Uncle Alden couldn’t hurt us then.”

“I wish that, too.” Lilleth traced the curve of Jess’s cold cheek. It had been only six months since his father’s death. Too little time to keep Jess’s eyes from becoming moist. “But he sees us from heaven, I’m sure of it.”

“Do you think, somehow from way up there, he can help us sneak Mama out of the mental hospital?”

“Well, if he can, you know he will, and if not, maybe he’ll send someone our way who can help us.”

She couldn’t imagine who that would be, since she wouldn’t allow anyone close enough to be able to help. She wouldn’t say so to Jess, but it would be she who would have to figure a way to get Bethany away from Hanispree.

“Everything will turn out fine, Jess, don’t you worry.” Lilleth shifted the baby in her arms. She was small for a twelve-month-old, but nonetheless the weight was beginning to take a toll on Lilleth’s back. “We’d better get to Mrs. O’Hara’s before we freeze.”

“Sure, Ma.” Jess stepped forward with a long stride.

If her brother-in-law was watching from above, as she firmly believed, he would be proud of his only son. Jess was a brave and intelligent boy.

Praise the saints, they were nearly to the saloon, then only a few more blocks to sanctuary.

“Jess, come walk on the far side of me.”

Things went on in a saloon that a ten-year-old didn’t need to be privy to. It would take a heavier snowfall than this to keep men of low morals and women of loose values from their amusement.

Despite the cold, the front door was open to let out the choking smoke that built up in those places. If it were up to Lilleth, Jess would never be old enough to witness mostly exposed bosoms and the men ogling them.

“When we walk past the front door of the saloon, squeeze your eyes closed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, but a grin crossed his face. And weren’t his eyes cracked open a slit?

Well, a grin was better than tears. Blooming adolescence would be something for Bethany to deal with once they set her free.

All would be right when she was Auntie Lilleth again, free to spoil and coddle.

They had taken only a few steps around the corner of saloon when the wind began to howl. Cold air bit through their wool coats. Mary whimpered in her sleep. The three blocks to Mrs. O’Hara’s couldn’t come soon enough.

It became difficult to see through the swirling snow.

Just in time, Lilleth spotted a house in the distance.

“That way, Jess.” She pointed through the shifting white veil.

In another moment a front porch came into view. A front porch with a red lantern hanging from the eves!

It couldn’t be. Mr. Hotel Owner would not have sent her here...he couldn’t have. Maybe Mrs. O’Hara simply liked red lanterns.

In any case, there was nothing for it but to knock on the door. The children couldn’t take much more of the cold. Lilleth’s own feet were becoming icy stubs.

The door opened after the third knock. Dim light and warmth spread over the porch.

“Is there something I can do for you, missus? Are you lost? And in this weather!”

Jess didn’t bother to hide his grin or squeeze his eyes to respectable slits. Clearly, he was bedazzled by the woman with nearly purple hair, clown-red cheeks and eyes lined with black. Or more likely it was her mostly exposed bosom that made his eyes pop wide in wonder.

“No, not lost.” Lilleth took Jess by the shoulder and turned him to face the street. “The owner of the Riverwalk Hotel directed me here after he gave away my room.”

Well! Mr. Hotel Owner would not insult both her and Mrs. O’Hara by his little joke. This would not be the last he heard of it.

“On occasion I do rent upstairs rooms. But this wouldn’t be the place for you and your children. It wouldn’t be seemly. I’m sorry.”

“I understand, Mrs. O’Hara. We’ll find another place.”

“I hope you do. I wouldn’t turn you away, but there’s the children, you see.”

Yes, there were the children. Lilleth hustled Jess down the steps. Mr. Hotel Owner would be well aware of them before this night was through.

Chapter Two

One mile outside of town, Trace opened the gate of Hanispree Mental Hospital and walked through.

Apparently neither Dr. Merlot nor Nurse Goodhew had braved the weather to come outside and lock it for the night. Good luck for Trace—it saved him having to scale the tall stone wall surrounding the place.

The grounds of the hospital looked like a winter playground. The pristine snow covering everything resembled a sparkling blanket. Now that the storm had blown away, the moon shone down to make the area glisten.

But the wind was cold as needles.

To anyone who didn’t know better, which would be nearly everyone until he finished his exposе, Hanispree was a lovely place to house the mentally ill. Benches and flowerbeds, bare at this time of year, were connected by a series of winding paths. The building itself was made of the same stone as the wall, with three stories of windows overlooking the elegant park.

To Trace’s knowledge, no inmate of the hospital had ever set foot on the paths or sat upon the benches, even when the park was at its loveliest in the spring.

A shiver took him from the inside out. One day soon he would have this place shut down. The patients would be better off away from here, housed in institutions where their well-being was important to the caregivers.

Trace walked across the grounds toward a wide front porch, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow. The verandah, lined end to end with rocking chairs, welcomed him forward.

Through the front window the glow of a fire in the hearth cast golden light into the night. Too bad the aura of comfort was a lie.

Unseen in the dark, he watched through the window for a moment. Nurse Goodhew dozed in a fireside chair with her stocking-clad feet stretched toward the flames.