The Physician's Irish Lady Page 10

Jim showed the man his badge. “I’m Sheriff Buckley from Fairfield. We think the man who took Dr. James’s wife forced her onto this train. I’d like to look around before the train leaves the station.”

  The conductor nodded. “I’ll accompany you.” He frowned. “I don’t recall seeing a woman being taken on forcibly, though.”

  “I’m sure he’s coerced her or even has her hidden,” Jim explained.

  “Hidden?” The man’s eyes widened.

  “Could we please board?” Elliot couldn’t stand another minute conversing with this man when his wife might be in danger.

  “Of course.” The conductor waved them ahead.

  Jim patted Elliot’s shoulder. “We’ll check every car and compartment. We’ll find her.”

  Elliot tensed but nodded. They had to find her. If not, he’d go to New York City himself and search every brothel.

  ****

  Rogan slipped cash into the hands of two porters. Each took one end of the trunk and ascended the platform. He’d heard no sounds coming from the trunk when he’d returned with his compartment tickets. The chloroform seemed to be keeping her quiet for now. He’d dose her again once they were safely alone in the sleeping compartment.

  As they hoisted the trunk up the train steps, a loud thump sounded. The man at the top end hesitated. “Is there some kind of animal in here, sir?”

  “Ah…” Rogan leaned toward the man. “Don’t tell anyone, but I need to transport a particularly vicious dog with me. She’s heavily sedated, and I plan to keep her that way for the entire trip.”

  The porter nodded. “A wise decision, sir.” He glanced at his companion. “Let’s heave this aboard, then.”

  The other porter grimaced but followed his co-worker’s lead, and together they lifted the trunk onto the train.

  Rogan heaved a sigh of relief. As long as she wasn’t able to speak, he could relax. He’d open the trunk once they were alone and be ready to dose her again for the ride to Philadelphia.

  ****

  Elliot scanned the crowd boarding the train and milling about. “I don’t see him anywhere. What if he’s already aboard?” He glanced at Jim.

  His friend scowled. “I’ll inquire at the ticket station. If he’s using the name he gave us, we’ll at least know if he bought a ticket.”

  “He’d have to buy one for Keara, too.”

  “I’ll find out. You stay here and keep a lookout. If you see either of them, come get me.”

  Elliot nodded, but if he saw Keara, he’d not wait for Jim. He’d wrench her from Morrissey’s grasp himself.

  Once Jim departed, Elliot searched the passengers again. The crowd had thinned out as departure neared. His pulse raced. What was taking Jim so long? He’d only been gone a few seconds, but it seemed an eternity.

  He turned his gaze to the rear of the train. Two porters wrestled a trunk up the stairs. A man followed. Elliot recognized the stocky build and reddish hair under a bowler hat. Morrissey!

  He glanced back toward the ticket window. By the time he raced back to get Jim, the Irishman would be already on the train. He saw no sign of Keara. But maybe he’d already spirited her on board. He couldn’t go back for Jim. He sprinted ahead to the car he’d seen the man board, climbed the steps, and barreled inside.

  The two porters wrestled the trunk into a sleeping compartment. Morrissey had his back to Elliot, but briefly turned. His face flushed, and he rushed to the door. The porters exited, and Elliot raced ahead to find the door closed and locked.

  Someone tapped Elliot on the shoulder. He turned to find a conductor eyeing him. “May I help you, sir?”

  “I need to get inside,” Elliot gasped.

  “Is this your compartment?”

  “Well, no. But I can explain.”

  “I’ll need to see your ticket.”

  “Ah…I don’t have one. You see, the man in this compartment kidnapped my wife. I need to get inside to see if she’s in there.”

  “I’m afraid this is highly irregular, sir. If you don’t have a ticket, you must depart. The train is about to leave the station.”

  “But I have the sheriff from Fairfield with me. He’ll explain everything.”

  The man frowned. “Sheriff?” He glanced down the aisle. “Where is he?”

  “He’s outside at the ticket counter. I’ll get him and bring him aboard. Just don’t let the train leave.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid I can’t hold up the train based on your accusations. You must show me proof.”

  Elliot bit back an oath. How could he get to Jim before the train departed?

  Chapter Eleven

  Keara’s head ached from all the jostling, but she’d finally worked the bonds loose enough to enable her to slip her hands free. She rubbed her raw wrists. Male voices spoke outside the trunk. She wasn’t able to make out the words but thrashed about as she loosened the gag from her mouth. She’d scream to get attention, but nothing but hoarse croaks sounded. They’d never hear her.

  She pounded on the trunk with both fists. The jostling had stopped. She wasn’t sure if she was on the train, but someone had to hear the noise. A door creaked shut. Then silence.

  She pounded again.

  The lid cracked open, and Rogan’s face appeared above her.

  “You little bitch! Stop all this noise. It won’t do you a bit of good.”

  She worked at the bonds still hobbling her legs but glanced up at Rogan holding a cloth over an open bottle. He planned to dose her with chloroform.

  “This will keep you quiet.” He leaned toward her.

  She lifted her legs and kicked, knocking the bottle from his hand. Sweet, noxious fumes surrounded her. She covered her nose and mouth with the gag, while Rogan swore.

  “I’ll kill you!” he shouted.

  Voices sounded beyond the door. Her eyes watered, but she held her breath and slipped from her leg bonds. Grasping the sides of the trunk, she attempted to stand.

  A train whistle sent a cold shaft of fear racing down her spine. Was the train leaving?

  ****

  The whistle signaled the train’s departure. The conductor grasped Elliot’s shoulder. “Sir, you must leave. Now.”

  “I won’t leave without my wife,” Elliot growled. “Keara!” he shouted.

  A loud bang inside the compartment sent the conductor’s eyebrows rising.

  “You see?” Elliot insisted. “You must unlock the door.”

  The conductor knocked first, then inserted a key into the door. Elliot shoved it in, revealing Keara in a struggle with Morrissey. The big Irishman had his beefy hands around her slender throat.

  Elliot roared and sank his fist into the man’s chest. He released his hold on Keara, and she sank into Elliot’s arms.

  Rogan doubled over clutching his stomach, then rose to reveal a pistol. He fired at Elliot, but the shot missed and shattered the window.

  “I’ll get help.” The conductor dashed down the aisle.

  Rogan scowled and turned the gun on Keara. “You’ll pay for what you cost me, you little wench.”

  Elliot’s blood boiled. He pushed his wife behind him. The pistol discharged, spewing smoke throughout the small, enclosed space. A white hot shaft of pain lodged in his thigh.

  “You bastard! You shot me!” He grasped his leg, noting blood oozing from his ruined trouser leg.

  Morrissey raced from the compartment.

  Elliot swore as he clutched Keara to his chest.

  “You’re shot!” Her eyes grew wide as she glanced down at his leg. She wound a rag around it and tied it off. “I fear the devil will get away.”

  A commotion in the hall drew Elliot’s gaze to the doorway. He leaned on Keara as she helped him to the door. Two porters held Morrissey between them.

  “He shot me,” Elliot explained, “and kidnapped and tried to murder my wife.”

  The conductor took charge of the prisoner until the authorities could be summoned.

  Elliot gathered Keara close. “I’ll never let you
out of my sight again. I love you so much.”

  “Aye, as I love you, husband.”

  Elliot refused to release Keara, even as a doctor, one of the passengers, was summoned to examine Elliot’s thigh. Fortunately, the bullet had gone clean through. He was instructed to keep it bandaged and clean.

  When Jim arrived, he took Morrissey into his custody to transfer to the sheriff in York.

  “I promise he won’t be free to harass you any more, Mrs. James.”

  Keara held tight to Elliot as Jim left with his prisoner. Then she assisted Elliot to his feet so they could exit the train and allow it to depart.

  Chapter Twelve

  Saturday, May 11th

  After spending the night in a York physician’s home so his leg could be looked after, Elliot and Keara returned home. Jim stayed on in York to see Morrissey processed.

  Millie’s eyes filled with tears as she welcomed the couple home. “I feared for you, dear.” She clasped Keara’s hand. “Did the brute harm you?”

  Keara shook her head. “He tried to choke me, but then me hero burst in to save me. Like in a fairy tale.” She gazed up into Elliot’s eyes.

  His face heated at being compared to a fairy tale hero. “I never want to see you come to any harm. You must know that by now.”

  She smiled. “I do, husband.”

  Shadow padded into the room. Millie turned and scooped up the cat. “Here’s my little man come to say hello.” She held the kitten close to her nose.

  Elliot gasped. “Aunt Millie! I’m shocked to see you so welcoming of a black cat. You told us he was a bad omen.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She cuddled Shadow as he struggled to get away. “He’s grown on me, I reckon.”

  Keara laughed. “Aye, I’d say he has.” She pulled Elliot to her. “I think I need to spend time with me husband.”

  “Of course.” Millie grinned. “I’ll ready baths for you both and have stew brewing on the stove if you’re hungry.”

  Hours later, after a relaxing bath and Millie’s beef stew in his stomach, Elliot felt content and ready to settle into normalcy. His leg would plague him for a bit but with proper care would heal up fine. He considered himself lucky Morrissey was such a poor shot.

  Once he’d settled into bed, Keara entered clothed in her nightgown. She slipped into bed beside him, and he drew her close. She stiffened and drew away.

  Elliot had the distinct feeling Morrissey had harmed her more than she’d let on. “My love,” he whispered, “I’ll wait until you’re ready, but I need to know what the man did to you.”

  She gathered the coverlet over her. “Nothing more than I told yer aunt.”

  Elliot sighed. He’d leave her alone for tonight, content he had her back. After she disappeared, he feared he’d never see her again.

  Leaning over, he pecked her cheek. “You’re home and safe. Sleep well, wife.”

  He rolled over longing to take her in his arms and make love to her until dawn, but he’d give her time.

  ****

  September 1867

  All through the long, hot months of summer, Keara had acted the devoted wife but held back a part of herself knowing when Elliot learned the whole truth of her sordid past, he’d likely divorce her.

  One afternoon in mid-September, Elliot had driven off into the farmlands on medical calls. Keara held a hand over her stomach as a wave of nausea nearly caused her to retch.

  She didn’t dare tell her husband and didn’t want to confide in Millie, but feared she carried a child. She counted back to her wedding night. Did she carry Elliot’s babe?

  She wasn’t able to get confirmation since her husband was the only physician within miles. She decided she’d pay a visit to Dorothy and see what she thought.

  Sitting in the Hobart’s kitchen, she sipped tea and revealed her distress. “I haven’t had my flow since weeks before the wedding, and I’ve been feeling sick and my stomach is bloated. What do you think?”

  Dorothy smiled and clasped her hands together. “Oh, my dear, you’re going to have a baby! How exciting!”

  Keara grimaced. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Elliot.”

  “Why, like any other married woman. You tell him he’s going to be a father. I guarantee, Elliot will be tickled at the prospect.”

  Keara shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Dorothy reached across the table and grasped Keara’s hand. “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “He might not want someone like me to be the mother of his children.” She glanced at her friend’s stricken face. “He doesn’t know about me past. The type of woman I was before he met me. I kept it from him so he wouldn’t throw me out.”

  “But whatever you’ve done, Keara, it can’t be that bad he’d reject you. You’re his wife.”

  “I fear when I tell him the whole truth, he’ll never want to lay eyes on me again.”

  ****

  By late afternoon, Elliot trotted his mare home, his mind in a daze. One of the farmer’s children he regularly treated had died in his arms. He’d done all he humanly could for the boy, but his illness had progressed too far. His breathing and heart stopped. Elliot could barely raise his head to tell the stricken parents. The mother had rushed to take the child in her arms and sobbed, as Elliot helplessly watched. The father stood as if in shock, barely able to comfort his grieving wife. Deaths like these occurred too often for Elliot’s liking. Although inevitable, he wished he had a magic elixir to cure young patients and end the parents’ suffering.

  By the time he reached the house, he wanted nothing more than to lie in his wife’s arms and be comforted. He’d feared losing her and now he had her back, but she seemed different. Subdued. She’d insisted Morrissey had done nothing more than kidnap and drug her senseless with chloroform months ago, but Elliot feared something more had happened. Something she didn’t want him to know.

  He entered the house then glanced into the open parlor doorway. Keara sat alone, sewing needle in hand, as she mended a button on a pair of his trousers. He stepped into the room.

  She glanced up, a frown marring her beautiful face. “Elliot, is something wrong? You look like the devil, himself, is on yer tail.”

  He grimaced and sank onto the settee across from her. She set down her mending and sat beside him, taking him into her arms. He sighed and reached around her slender body to hold her close.

  “The Martins’ little boy died. He had an infection in his lungs. I couldn’t do anything to save him.” His throat closed up, keeping him from saying any more. What else could he say?

  “Oh, me poor husband. You know it’s God’s will, who lives and who dies. Your job is to ease suffering as best you can.”

  “But he was so little. I wanted to save him, to give him back to his parents.”

  “I know.” She ran her hands over his back in a soothing gesture, then moved one of his hands over her soft belly. “I’ve something to tell you. Can you come upstairs with me?”

  Once in the privacy of their bedroom, she sank onto the bed and pulled him close. “I didn’t want to tell you right away with all that’s happened, but you’re going to be a father.”

  Elliot’s gaze drifted over his wife’s form. “You mean…”

  “I can’t be sure, but Dorothy told me I have all the signs.”

  Elliot grinned. “I think I need to give you a thorough examination to be sure you really are and everything is in order.”

  “Yes, Doctor James.” Keara smiled impishly, then raised her skirts so he could proceed with his examination.

  Once he’d finished, he slipped her skirts back over her legs and held out his hand to help her into a seated position.

  “Well, Mrs. James, I’d say you’re with child and about four months along.”

  “Four months?” Keara’s red-gold brows rose.

  “Yes, and after your ordeal, you’ll need a lot of rest to allow the baby to grow and thrive. We have to be very careful.”

  She glanced down her
at hands, resting in her lap. “But if I’m to be the mother of your child, you need to know me whole sordid past.”

  He took both her hands in his. “I married you for better or for worse. What’s happened in the past should stay there. We have a wonderful new life to live together.” He patted her stomach. “The three of us.”

  “Aye.” She wrapped her arms around Elliot. “And me babe will have the very best father to raise him or her.”

  Relief washed over him knowing his wife would be fine. She’d have a baby of her own to raise with him and, with Morrissey’s arrest, her past could finally be forgotten.

  ****

  Keara lay in bed in her husband’s arms. After her announcement, he’d gently undressed her, and she’d urged him to allow her to undress him. She savored every moment and the lovemaking that followed.

  Sated, she lay in his arms. “I want to stay this way forever.”

  “Here, in bed?” Elliot leaned up on his elbow and threw back the quilt covering them. “I must say, I like the view.” His gaze roved over her naked body from the top of her head to her toes.

  She sighed and stretched, glancing at the clock. “It’s nearly dinnertime,” she announced, “and I’ve shirked me duty in the kitchen.”

  “I’m sure Aunt Millie has things well in hand. She’s been cooking my meals for a long time. I’m sure she wanted to give us some privacy.”

  “Aunt Millie,” Keara gasped. “I didn’t tell her I suspected I might be pregnant. I asked Dorothy instead.”

  “My aunt will be thrilled to know we have a little one on the way. We’ll tell her at dinner.”

  Keara grinned. “Aye. She’ll like that.”

  “Well, my love…” He rose and reached for his trousers. “I think we’d best get down to the dining room before Aunt Millie decides to investigate our lingering too long in bed.”

  “I suspect your aunt already knows about our news. She’s psychic, after all.”

  Elliot laughed. “You’re likely right.”

  Once he’d dressed, he held out his hand to Keara. She rose, and he assisted her in dressing.

  She settled at her vanity and brushed her hair. “I need to pin it up, so I’m presentable for dinner.” She reached for the box of pins on the vanity top.