Jo Ann Brown (22 page)

“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?”

“Two, please.” The pain medication seemed to be working, for the pounding in her head had eased to a lesser throb. Mrs. Heaton placed the tray in front of her and Kathleen picked up the teacup and took a sip.

“By the time you finish, Gretchen and I will be back to help you—”

“Mrs. Heaton, I don’t know how to thank you for everything.”

“You’ve already thanked me, dear. Just let yourself heal and know that you are safe here.”

Kathleen managed a small nod.

“Are you up to a little more light, dear?”

“I believe so.”

Mrs. Heaton opened the draperies fully on both windows and sunlight flooded the room, but it didn’t bother Kathleen’s eyes. She liked the way the light filtered through the lace panels behind the drapes.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Mrs. Heaton said. She hurried off and Kathleen took another sip of her tea.

Only then did she really see the room she was in. It was huge—and more than just a bedroom. Decorated with lavender-and-yellow wallpaper and bed coverings of the same colors, the room was beautiful.

There was a comfortable-looking chair in the corner between the bed and a window. And there was even a small sofa in front of a fireplace. An armoire that matched the headboard of the bed was on the other side of the room. She’d never seen anything this nice in her life and wished Colleen could see it.

Tears gathered in her eyes once more at the thought of her sister and nephews.
Dear Lord, please keep them safe. And please help me to remember all that happened to bring me here. In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen.

Kathleen couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last, and even though she didn’t feel hungry, her rumbling stomach told her she was. She picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. By the time Mrs. Heaton returned, she’d managed one slice and had finished her tea.

“Oh, good. I’m glad you got something down. Gretchen is coming, and we’re going to help you to the bathroom. You’ll be sharing it with Elizabeth. She’s at work now, but you’ll meet her this evening.”

Kathleen wasn’t sure she was ready to meet anyone else, but she didn’t have the inclination or the energy to argue with this woman who’d done so much for her.

Gretchen came in just then and the two women helped her into a bathroom that was just off her room. She couldn’t believe the size of it. She and her sister’s family had to share a bathroom with the other tenants on their floor. This was so clean and large compared to that one—and she was to share it with only one other person? A room almost as large as their apartment and a bathroom connected to it? Such luxury was too much to take in.

By the time Mrs. Heaton and Gretchen had helped her into a fresh gown and back to bed, she was quite drowsy.

“I can’t believe I’m sleepy again,” Kathleen said as Mrs. Heaton plumped her pillow once more.

“I’m afraid I tired you out with all my talking earlier, dear.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure it’s the medicine.”

“Could be. But the doctor said rest was the best for you right now. You let yourself sleep whenever you can. I’ll go let Luke know how you are doing today.”

“Luke?”

“Luke Patterson. He helped me get you upstairs last night. He’s the young man who came to your defense that day in the park last summer.”

Memories crept in. Of strong arms picking her up and holding her close, of not wanting to let go of his hand. They came to her now, as did that day in the park when the handsome man had tried to help her and Colleen. They were one and the same? “He lives here?”

“Yes, he does. And I know he was quite worried about you last night. You wouldn’t let go of his hand for the longest time. I must let him know you are on the mend. I’ll be back with some lunch a little later. You get some rest now.” Mrs. Heaton slipped out the bedroom door.

Kathleen leaned back against the pillows and released a pent-up breath. The hammering she had felt no longer pounded in her head, but in her chest. Luke Patterson. The man who’d become her hero in one brief encounter and whom she’d dreamed about several times since then had a name. And he lived here.

Kathleen’s memories were so jumbled in with her dreams and nightmares of the night before, she wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. But evidently, hearing that deep, husky voice she’d become familiar with in her dreams and the comforting feeling of being lifted and carried gently in a pair of strong arms hadn’t been a dream at all.

* * *

“Man in the hall,” Mrs. Heaton called as she led Luke up the stairs. She’d finally given in to his wish to see how Kathleen was doing for himself, although it’d taken a lot of persuasion to get her to agree.

Luke heard several doors slam as they reached the landing and he was sure the women weren’t thrilled with his invasion into their domain. He looked straight ahead as he followed Mrs. Heaton to the room she’d given Miss O’Bryan.

He waited as his landlady knocked on the door. “Kathleen, dear, it’s Mrs. Heaton. May I come in? I’ve brought you supper.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course you may,” Kathleen answered.

Luke opened the door for his landlady and stood to the side while she entered. She turned to him. “You stay right here until I see if she’s up to seeing you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke hoped that she was, for he wouldn’t barge in on his own, but he felt the need to see her, to hear her voice, to make sure she was all right.

It was but a few minutes before Mrs. Heaton returned. “You may see Miss O’Bryan, but not for long. She’s still recovering, you know.”

Luke nodded and entered the room with Mrs. Heaton right behind him as decorum demanded. Kathleen was propped up against a pile of pillows, covers pulled up to her neck. As he got closer he could see the bruising was still evident, maybe even worse than the night before, but her coloring seemed much better.

“This is Luke Patterson, Kathleen. He’s not let me rest until I finally said he could come see for himself that you are improving. He’s the young man we talked about earlier.”

“Yes, I remember.”

She looked up at him and for a moment Luke felt he might drown in the deep ocean blue-green of her eyes.

“Thank you so much for coming to my aid that day in the park and again last night.”

“You’re more than welcome, Miss O’Bryan. You look... I...” Luke was at a loss for words. He couldn’t say she looked wonderful, for she still looked battered and bruised. “Ah, better.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Patterson. I know how I look. But rest assured, I’ll recover and be the stronger for it all.”

The lilting sound of her Irish accent made him smile. “I can see that by the glint in your eyes and I’m glad for your attitude. You were brought to the right place. Mrs. Heaton is going to take good care of you.”

“She already has been,” Miss O’Bryan said.

Luke nodded. “I can see that. I’m sure she’ll have you joining us for dinner in no time.”

“That’s what Mrs. Heaton keeps telling me.”

“You’ll find that she is rarely wrong. I look forward to seeing you downstairs soon.”

“Thank you.”

“She’ll be joining us soon,” Mrs. Heaton said with a smile. “But it’s time for you to go, Luke. The girls will be wanting to go down to dinner soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke smiled at Miss O’Bryan and gave a little nod. “Good night.”

“Good night. Thank you for checking on me.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully, you’ll feel even better tomorrow.” He turned to Mrs. Heaton. “Thank you for letting me see for myself that she is on the mend.”

“You’re welcome, Luke. Please tell the other men dinner will be served soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He resisted the urge to look at Kathleen once more and headed out the door, releasing a sigh as he headed down the stairs. She was going to be all right. And he was going to see she stayed that way.

ISBN: 9781460319031

THE DUTIFUL DAUGHTER

Copyright © 2013 by Jo Ann Ferguson

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com