A Place of Refuge

“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 thoughts. The door opened just a crack and she heard a whisper. “Kathleen? It’s Mrs. Heaton. Are you awake, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” This was Mrs. Heaton’s home after all and she’d opened it to her, a total stranger except for that chance meeting in Central Park last summer.

Mrs. Heaton entered the room and hurried over to her. “Are you still in pain?”

“Some.” Kathleen tried to scoot up in bed and grimaced.

“I think a little more than that. Let me give you some of the medicine Doctor Reynolds left for you. Then we’ll see if you feel like a cup of tea and maybe some toast.”

“Yes, thank you.” She opened her mouth as Mrs. Heaton brought a spoonful of medicine to her lips. Kathleen swallowed the liquid and prayed it would work quickly to ease the pounding in her head.

“You were out again when I brought a tray up last night and I didn’t want to wake you. I did check on you several times throughout the night and you seemed to be sleeping.”

Mrs. Heaton talked as she straightened Kathleen’s covers and pulled back the draperies on one of the windows—just enough to let a bit of light in, but not so much that it bothered Kathleen’s eyes.

“Let me look at you.” The compassion in the woman’s eyes touched Kathleen’s heart. She’d been nothing but kind to her. She sighed now and shook her head. “Doc said your bruising might look worse before it gets better. I’m afraid he was right. But don’t you worry, you’ll be back to your lovely self before you know it.”

“Thank you for taking me in and for being so kind.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you kept my card and were brought here. Try not to worry about your sister. Mrs. Driscoll said she would check on her and get word to you on how she and your nephews are.”

Kathleen let herself relax a little at Mrs. Heaton’s words. Tears sprung to her eyes just thinking about the only family she had left. She tried to remember...why was she here? “I have so many questions about what happened, and I just can’t seem to remember. Everything is just so disconnected and yet I feel I’ve been here before.”

“You were. But only for one night last spring.”

“I was?” Kathleen tried to remember but couldn’t.

“Don’t struggle with it, dear.”

Kathleen tried not to show how much pain she felt leaning forward while Mrs. Heaton plumped her pillow and added another to prop her up. She bit her bottom lip as the woman eased her back onto the pillows.

“Doctor Reynolds said you might not remember everything right away but he thinks your memories will all come back to you in time. He said it was a good sign that you knew your name and Mrs. Driscoll’s, and where you work.”

“Work. I...” Kathleen furrowed her brow and looked at Mrs. Heaton.

“Mrs. Driscoll said not to worry about coming in today. She gave you the rest of the week off and said she would be back today to see how you are.”

Kathleen released a relieved sigh. Thank you, Lord.

Another knock came on the door and Mrs. Heaton went to answer it. “It’s Gretchen, I’m sure. I asked her to bring a tray up.”

A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform came into the room. She appeared to be around Kathleen’s age of twenty-four. Her hair was blond and curly and her eyes were light blue.

“Put the tray on the dresser, please, Gretchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She turned to Kathleen and said, “I hope you feel better today, miss.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen said.

“If you need anything more just let me know, Mrs. Heaton.”

“Thank you, Gretchen.” The maid left the room quietly and Mrs. Heaton turned to Kathleen.

“Perhaps, after you’ve had some tea and toast, Gretchen and I can help you to the bathroom so you can freshen up. That might make you feel better.”

The thought sounded wonderful to Kathleen. “That would be nice.”

“Well, then, lets get some tea in you. One or two teaspoons of sugar?”