Read Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01] Online
Authors: A Tapestry of Hope
K
IARA PULLED
Paddy close, her fingers digging into the flesh of his arm. ‘‘Ya’re hurting me, Kiara.’’ He squirmed, trying to gain his freedom.
‘‘Do ya not realize the consequences of what happened today, Padraig?’’
‘‘Aye, but ’twas a mistake, and the horse has only a small cut on his leg. I do na think the master will even notice. Besides, it may be healed before his return.’’
‘‘Ya best be hopin’ that horse is good as the day Master Bradley left this house or that he does na come near the barn. I do na want him gettin’ so angry he sells yar papers. I could na bear to have ya taken away from me.’’
‘‘What else can I say? I did na want the horse to run off and I know I should have made certain the stall was closed. I truly thought it was, Kiara. Ya know I love those horses, and I do na want anything bad to ’appen to them.’’
‘‘And I do na want anything bad happenin’ to
you,
so you best be checkin’ those gates two times instead of one,’’ she warned.
‘‘I’ll go out and put some more liniment on his leg and make sure he’s doing all right. Do na worry so much, Kiara.’’
She watched her brother run out the door with his flat cap pulled low over his eyes and his legs flying helter-skelter like a young colt let loose in the pasture. The thought of a future without Paddy was unbearable. Without warning, unbidden tears coursed down her cheeks, and she gave way to the insurmountable sadness that daily filled her. The show of strength she exhibited for her brother’s sake crumpled in her solitude, and she wept bitter tears.
‘‘Is it so terrible living here that you are reduced to this level of grief?’’ Jasmine asked.
Kiara lifted her head and attempted a smile. ‘‘I do na mean to seem ungrateful. I’m thankful for yar goodness to me. But I do na know what will happen to Paddy should Master Bradley discover his fancy horse escaped and was running wild for two days—and if that cut does na heal, I fear Master Bradley will sell Paddy’s papers of servitude to someone else. I could na live without me brother.’’ The words caused her tears to flow once again.
‘‘You know I would never permit such a thing to happen. If my husband even suggests such a notion, I will vehemently protest his action.’’
‘‘Thank you, missus. But we both know that if Master Bradley makes up his mind, there’s nothing anyone can do that will stop him.’’
‘‘But I would try,’’ Jasmine vowed. ‘‘We’ll hope he never finds out about the incident.’’
Kiara wiped her nose and attempted to cease the hiccuping that had laid claim and was jolting her body with merciless spasms.
‘‘Why don’t you and Paddy take some time and go visit your friend Bridgett? I’m sure she’d be delighted to see you, and on a Sunday afternoon she’ll not be working. Visiting Bridgett will take your mind off your sorrows.’’
Kiara brightened at the suggestion. She’d seen Bridgett only once since her arrival, and then it had been for only a short time.
Bridgett had managed to find the Houston home and had walked from the Acre to see Kiara and Paddy. That had been only two weeks after they arrived in Lowell. She’d made the visit and told Kiara she’d be starting work at the mills the next day and wouldn’t have much time for visiting. Kiara wondered how she liked her new job.
‘‘That would be ever so nice. I’d like to go visitin’.’’
‘‘Good! We’ll take a carriage, and I’ll visit with Grandmother while you and Paddy go to the Acre. You can come to Grandmother’s when you’ve finished your visit, and we’ll return home.
How does that sound?’’
Kiara beamed. ‘‘That would be grand, ma’am. I’ll go out to the barn and fetch Paddy. He’ll be needin’ to scrub up a wee bit.’’
‘‘If you’d tell Charles to bring the carriage around once he’s hitched the horses, that will save us some time.’’
‘‘Yes, ma’am,’’ Kiara called over her shoulder as she raced out of the house.
Kiara and Paddy jumped down from the carriage when they neared the Acre. ‘‘Just follow that street and ask anyone you see if they know your friend,’’ Charles instructed. ‘‘All the residents of the Acre know each other.’’
Kiara took Paddy by the hand and led him through the row of run-down shanties, stopping the first person who looked in her direction. ‘‘I’m lookin’ for Bridgett Farrell. She lives with her cousin, Rogan Sheehan, and her granna Murphy.’’
The woman pointed down the street. ‘‘Turn right at the end of the street. Third door on the left.’’
‘‘Thank ya, soul, and God go with ya,’’ Kiara said, hurrying off toward their destination. ‘‘Oh, Paddy, I do hope Bridgett’s home.
We’re not likely to soon get this chance again.’’
Paddy grinned and danced down the street ahead of her, twirling about to face Kiara. ‘‘She’ll be there. I can feel it in me bones.’’
He turned the corner and ran to the door, knocking several times.
Kiara had reached his side when Bridgett opened the door.
‘‘I can na believe me Irish eyes. Kiara O’Neill, get yarself in here and meet me granna Murphy and set a spell. My cousin’s gone out to enjoy his Sunday afternoon, but I stayed home with Granna. She has a touch of the gout and needs a bit o’ help. I’ll put on the kettle, and ya can tell me for sure about life in yar big mansion, and I’ll tell ya about life in the Acre and workin’ in the mills. Michael O’Donnell lives next door, Paddy. He’s about yar age. Get over and meet him. Tell him Bridgett sent ya.’’
Once Paddy had gone and Bridgett finished brewing a pot of tea, she sat down with Kiara. ‘‘Are ya happy and are they treatin’ ya well at yar big house?’’
‘‘The missus is very kind. She’s not much older than me. She lived far away from here on a big farm of some kind until she married the master. She misses her home and family just like I miss Ireland, so we’ve lots in common.’’
Granna Murphy appeared to be asleep on the small cot across the room, but Kiara leaned close to Bridgett just in case she might not be sleeping soundly. She didn’t want the old woman to hear what she was going to say. ‘‘Master Bradley’s another kettle o’ fish.
I do na like the way he looks at me, Bridgett. He frightens me.’’
Bridgett’s eyes widened and filled with concern. ‘‘Ya think he might be one who would try and force ya to his bed?’’
The sound of Paddy and some other boys playing in the street drifted into the house, causing Kiara to feel even more self-conscious. ‘‘That I do. He has evil in his eyes when he looks in my direction. And his wife is a beauty. He has no reason to be lookin’ elsewhere. She’s gonna give him a wee babe. Ya’d think he’d be content.’’
‘‘Maybe that’s why he’s lookin’ yar direction. Sometimes when a woman is expectin’, she doesn’t want her husband a botherin’ with ’er.’’
Kiara shook her head. ‘‘I do na think that’s it. He’s looked at me that way since the first time he laid eyes on me.’’
‘‘Just keep yar distance whenever ya can, and tell him ya’ll tell his wife if he’s tryin’ to lay a hand on ya,’’ Bridgett whispered.
‘‘I can na tell him that. He’ll sell me papers, and then I’d be separated from Paddy.’’
‘‘It’s a bad spot yar in, fer sure, but it was good o’ him to let ya come visit me.’’
‘‘He’s gone to Boston. The missus brought us in her carriage and then went to visit her grandmother across town.’’
‘‘In her carriage, no less? Well, ain’t ya the fancy one?’’ Bridgett said with a giggle. ‘‘I don’t believe I’ve ever had visitors before who came in a carriage.’’
‘‘What are ya hearin’ from Ireland? Is there any relief?’’ Kiara felt desperate for news. She had no one to write to—no one to give her a word of the homeland.
‘‘The famine is only gettin’ worse. Folks dyin’ every day from lack of food. It’s lucky we are to be here, Kiara. But the Yankee girls in the mills are complainin’ about the terrible conditions.
They don’t know what we’ve come from, or they’d be thankin’ the good Lord for the privilege of the pay they receive every week.’’
‘‘I heard some of the ladies who come to have tea with the missus talkin’ about troubles in the mills. Do they truly keep those windows nailed down so ya can’t get a breath of fresh air?’’
Bridgett nodded. ‘‘Aye. But still ’tis better than starvin’ to death in Ireland. They don’t quit their jobs ’cause they know there’s Irish lasses what would take their place the same day. They don’t pay the Irish workers as much as the Yankees, which I do na think is fair, but there’s nothin’ we can do. If we want to keep our jobs, we keep our mouths shut.’’
‘‘That hardly seems—’’ Kiara paused in midsentence.
A blinding shaft of sunlight shone through the door as it opened. Kiara looked toward the entry, where a tall figure stood surrounded by a halo of light. The sun danced across his curly black hair and dappled the mass of locks with streaks of midnight blue.
‘‘Who ’ave we here?’’ he asked, stepping aside and pushing the door closed behind him.
Kiara took in the man’s deep blue eyes and could not help but notice his finely chiseled features and muscular build.
‘‘This is me friend Kiara O’Neill. She’s the one what sailed with me from Ireland,’’ Bridgett explained. ‘‘And that’s her brother, Padraig, outside playing with Michael O’Donnell.’’ Bridgett turned her attention back to Kiara. ‘‘This is my cousin, Rogan
Sheehan. He’s the one that saved his money to bring me over here.’’ Bridgett’s gaze was filled with grateful pride as she gave Rogan a winsome smile.
Rogan motioned her to hush. ‘‘ ’Twas nothin’ special, lass.
Quit yer makin’ such a fuss. How’s Granna doin’?’’ he asked, looking toward the cot.
‘‘She’s been sleeping all afternoon. I let her sleep when she can.
At least she’s not feelin’ the pain when she’s having a lie-down.’’
The three of them visited while the old woman slept, Rogan regaling them with stories of his life since arriving in America, his friendly voice and easy laughter delighting Kiara. He was the kind of man who made her feel very special—although he’d done nothing more than smile and talk.
Kiara glanced toward the window where the sun was beginning a slow descent. ‘‘I did na realize it was gettin’ so late. I best be on my way so the missus does na worry.’’
‘‘I wish ya did na have to go,’’ Bridgett said.
‘‘I must na be late, or the missus might na be so generous about lettin’ me come again. Besides, it may take me a bit to find the house. I do na know my way about the town.’’
‘‘In that case, I’ll be pleased to take ya and yar brother wherever ya’re needin’ ta go,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘There’s no place in Lowell I can na find.’’
‘‘That’s kind of ya, but I do na want to be a bother.’’
He gave her a jaunty smile and walked to the door. ‘‘Ya could na be a bother if ya tried, lass.’’
Kiara blushed at his flattering remark. Secretly, she was pleased he had offered to spend a little more time in her company.
Bradley stormed through the front door with his jaw clenched and his lips set in a tight, thin line. ‘‘Where is he?’’
Jasmine hurried from the parlor at the sound of her husband’s shout. ‘‘Bradley! Whatever is wrong? When did you return from Boston?’’
‘‘Only a short time ago. Where is Paddy?’’ His tone remained strident. He stood before her while slapping his leather riding whip into his palm. ‘‘Tell me where he is.’’
‘‘I thought he was in the barn. I’ve not seen him.’’
‘‘Where’s his sister? He’s likely with her.’’
‘‘She’s in the kitchen helping Sarah and Cook. Supper’s nearly ready. I don’t think Paddy’s in the house.’’
He strode past her, now slapping the riding whip against his thigh. ‘‘Where’s the boy?’’ he barked.
Sarah emerged, her hands quivering at the sight of her employer. ‘‘I sent him to town to pick up necessities from the mercantile. He should return shortly. In fact, he’s coming now,’’ she said, pointing out the window.
Bradley rushed out the door. His whip came down across Paddy’s back full force, scattering the contents of Sarah’s basket of goods in all directions. He continued the flogging while screaming and cursing at Padraig until Kiara could take no more. She raced into the yard and attempted to grasp Bradley’s arm, but to no avail.
‘‘You can’t even properly care for my horse after all I’ve done for you, you worthless good-for-nothing!’’ he yelled. ‘‘I’m gone for a week and come home to find my prize animal with a gash on his leg. I think I’ll sell your papers so you’ll find out what it’s like to
really
work for a living. I’ll send you down south to live on the Wainwright plantation, where you can spend your time in the hot sun picking cotton and hoeing weeds. You’ll spend all your time out in those fields wishing you were back caring for my horses. They’ll lay the lash to your backside until it’s raw, and if you dare try to run away, they’ll slice the back of your ankle so you’ll never walk right again.’’
‘‘Ya don’t even know what happened and—’’ Padraig stopped short with his argument. ‘‘ ’Tis sorry I am. Ya’re right. The horse’s injury is all me fault. I promise if ya’ll just give me one more chance, I’ll do better and ya won’t have to be worryin’ about such a thing ever happenin’ again.’’
The boy’s abrupt change of heart surprised Bradley, and he hesitated a moment before replying. ‘‘I’ll give it some thought and let you know what I decide.’’ Turning abruptly, he caught sight of
Kiara motioning to her brother. She’d obviously signaled the boy to cease his argument. The fear in her eyes reinforced what he already knew: Kiara’s greatest fear was separation from her brother.
‘‘Pick up these things and get back in the house and tend to your duties, girl. You’ve no business out here. And you get back to the barn. There’s muck that needs to be shoveled,’’ he snarled at Padraig.
Bradley watched the brother and sister exchange looks before hastening off to do his bidding. He followed Kiara at a distance, enjoying the sway of her hips as she preceded him into the house.
There was a degree of satisfaction in knowing the power he possessed over her.
Jasmine was pacing in the hallway when Bradley returned to the parlor. ‘‘Come and sit down. I don’t want you to tire yourself.
How have you fared during my absence? No problems with illness, I trust?’’