A Worthy Heart Read online

  Her back stiffened away from the chair. “I hope you’re not planning to discipline him, because I truly believe he saved my life—and that of my cat, as well.”

  Gabe bit back a groan. He knew that if the chief found out about Petunia, Gabe would be in even more trouble.

  “You mean to tell me he went back . . . for a cat?” The screech of his superior’s voice raised the hairs on the back of Gabe’s neck.

  He had no choice but to step into the room. “Excuse me, sir. I couldn’t help but overhear—”

  “Montgomery,” the chief bit out, apparently doing his best to curb his temper. “Miss Hastings came to thank you for your heroics at the fire.”

  Aurora got quickly to her feet.

  Gabe swallowed and looked down into two blue pools of concern. Was it his imagination or was she offering a silent apology for saying too much?

  “No need for thanks, Miss Hastings. I was happy to help.” He gave her what he hoped to be his best smile.

  A pink hue flooded her cheeks. “Oh, I brought you this as a small token of our gratitude.” She bent to pick up the basket at her feet and handed it to him. “It’s for all the men who helped save our home,” she added hastily.

  His hand brushed hers as he took the basket from her, and he let his fingers linger a moment longer than necessary.

  “They’re scones and tea cakes from the local bakery, since our kitchen is out of service at the moment.”

  He lifted the cloth to peek underneath and sniffed in appreciation. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

  “I’m sure my men will enjoy them.” The chief’s countenance had relaxed, but the determined gleam in his eye told Gabe he was in for a lecture about rescuing pets.

  “May I escort you home, Miss Hastings?”

  She hesitated, glancing over at his boss. “If I’m not taking you away from your work . . .”

  Gabe waited for the chief to say yay or nay. The man huffed out a sigh and waved a hand. “Off you go. But I want to speak to you when you return.”

  “Yes, sir.” It would be worth the impending reprimand to spend time with Aurora. He turned to offer her his arm.

  She beamed at him. “I’d be delighted to have your company, Mr. Montgomery.”

  Aurora had never felt so self-conscious walking the streets of her neighborhood before. Many times she’d gone out accompanied by a man who wished to court her, but never had she worried about what to say, how small her steps were, or if the wind mussed her hair. This morning she’d wanted nothing more than to see Gabe again, yet now that she had his undivided attention, her mouth seemed pasted shut. Strolling beside the handsome fireman, Aurora clutched her reticule and wished she were one of those chatty types who could talk about anything to anyone.

  “I understand your family is staying at a hotel for a few days, and then you’ll be off to your summer home.”

  Aurora glanced at him sharply. “How did you know that?”

  One dark brow rose in a sheepish manner. “I went to your house earlier to see how you—um, to see how your family was faring. The housekeeper told me.”

  “Oh. That was kind of you to come by.” She gave a light laugh. “I suppose we both had the same idea.” Only Aurora wasn’t sure his motives were the same as hers. She fought to retain her composure.

  “I believe Mrs. Forrester mentioned Long Island. Is your home anywhere near Irish Meadows?”

  “Yes. We’re practically neighbors.”

  “So that’s why you were at their party. Are you friends with Brianna and Colleen, then?”

  Aurora’s reply stuck in her throat. She wet her lips and tried to formulate a polite response. After all, Gabe was related by marriage to the O’Learys. “Brianna and I served on a few church committees together.”

  She stared straight ahead as she walked, conscious of his gaze on her.

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not willing to say?”

  Aurora raised a hand to clutch her hat as a quick wind threatened to snatch it from her head. Gabe moved to shield her from the dust swirling around them until the gust died down.

  “Thank you.” She shook out her skirts and continued on. “You’re right. My relationship with the O’Leary family is . . . complicated.” She took two more steps. “For a short time, I was betrothed to Gilbert Whelan.”

  Gabe stopped mid-stride. “Brianna O’Leary’s fiancé?”

  “Yes.” Aurora kept moving forward, forcing him to keep pace with her.

  “Forgive me, but he seems an unlikely match.”

  “Papa didn’t think so. Gil worked at his bank after he graduated from college. Papa thought the sun rose and set on him. He was quite distraught when Gil broke our engagement.”

  “I imagine you were, as well.”

  She sighed. “For a time, I did fancy myself in love with Gil, but it turned out he had feelings for Brianna.”

  “Why did he court you if his affections lay elsewhere?”

  “As I said, it’s complicated. Gil did it to please Mr. O’Leary, who wanted leverage with my father.” Aurora lifted her chin. Why had she told Gabe of her humiliation at the hand of the O’Learys? She blinked, stunned when Gabe reached for her hand and pulled her to a halt.

  “A woman as lovely as you should never have to suffer being a pawn in a man’s game. You deserve to be cherished and respected.” A flush spread across his cheeks as though he regretted his words.

  She stared, not sure what to say. “You’re being polite, but thank you. Don’t worry, I’ve gotten over it.” Mostly.

  He resumed his place beside her, and they continued on their way in silence for a piece.

  “So what do you do for fun, Aurora?”

  Visions of the children at the hospital flew to mind, and she smiled. “I volunteer at the Bellevue hospital. Mostly in the children’s wing. Papa doesn’t approve, but he tolerates it as a whim I’ll get over once I’m married and settled down.”

  Gabe guided her around a corner onto 34th Street. “That seems like a worthy pursuit.”

  “Oh, it is. If you could see the children, how much they enjoy being read to and played with—it does my heart good to hear their laughter.”

  At his unblinking gaze, she suddenly felt foolish for revealing her innermost feelings.

  Then a slow grin bloomed on his face. “It does my heart good to see you really smile for once. I’m happy you’ve found something that brings you such joy.” He took her elbow as they stepped over a curb. “And what do you plan to do out in Long Island for the summer? Will you volunteer at the hospital there?”

  Her back muscles stiffened. “I’m not going to Long Island. Papa doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve made arrangements to stay with a friend in the city. I can’t bear to leave my patients here.”

  “Your patients? You sound like a doctor.” A teasing light glowed in his eyes.

  She hesitated, then leaned closer. “May I share a secret with you?”

  “By all means. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  “I plan to enroll in nursing school this fall. One of the doctors is allowing me to observe the nurses when I’m there. So far, he seems pleased. I haven’t fainted once.”

  Gabe gave a hearty laugh. “That’s a good thing. We wouldn’t want you to be fainting at the sight of blood.”

  She giggled. “Definitely not.”

  He sobered. “I consider nursing a most noble profession. It takes a special type of person to tend the sick.”

  “I want to do something worthwhile with my life. Not simply spend my days hosting parties and social engagements.” She sighed. “I fear I have a battle ahead to convince Papa.”

  They arrived at the Vanderbilt Hotel, and Aurora stopped in front of the ornate doors. “This is it. Thank you for keeping me company.”

  “It was my pleasure.” He stepped closer to allow a man and woman to pass. “Aurora, you are one of the most admirable young women I have ever met. I will be praying that everything turns
out as you hope.” He winked, and her heart bumped against her ribs. “You might try bending the Lord’s ear, as well, to help change your father’s mind. You’d be amazed at what a little prayer can do.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I hope we meet again. Give my best to your family.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  He paused, her fingers still wrapped in his. “If you don’t mind me asking, does becoming a nurse mean you never wish to marry?”

  Her breath tangled in her lungs as his gaze met hers. “I’m not opposed to marriage,” she said slowly. “I believe if God intends me to marry, He’ll bring the right man into my life at the appropriate time.”

  A smile stretched across Gabe’s face. “A very wise answer, Miss Hastings.” He gave a tug on his cap. “Good day to you.”

  Whistling a jaunty tune, he turned and sauntered down the street.

  Aurora watched him go, a vague sense of unrest plaguing her. When speaking of a husband just now, she hadn’t given Philip Reardon a single thought. Instead, her imagination had been filled with Gabe’s impish grin and charming Irish lilt.

  What that meant, she didn’t dare consider.

  She’d leave it up to God to determine.

  10

  ADAM LET HIMSELF in the back door of the orphanage and attempted to shake off the feeling of being an unwelcome intruder. In keeping with Rylan’s stipulations, he’d purposely waited until the parade of children had left the premises before venturing indoors. As far as Adam knew, the only people who should be inside were Mrs. Norton, the cook, and old Mr. Smith, who was cleaning the dormitories upstairs. Even the nuns were out at a special church service.

  So when Adam heard the unmistakable sound of music, he paused in the hallway before cautiously moving toward the room where he remembered seeing a large piano. The sound became more intense, and the wood of the door vibrated beneath Adam’s hand. Whoever was playing had had a lot of training. From the little he’d learned about piano from his mother, an accomplished player in her own right, he recognized the composition. If he wasn’t mistaken, the piece wafting out was either Bach or Beethoven.

  But his curiosity would not be sated until he discovered who was playing. He nudged the door open enough to peer inside. Across the room, Maggie sat at the piano, her eyes closed. An expression of near ecstasy glowed on her face as her hands flew over the keys. The power of the music combined with the breathtaking beauty of the artist mesmerized Adam. He stared, drinking in the scene until he felt like a voyeur. When the tempo changed to a slower pace, he moved away and let the door close without a sound. Then, before he could be discovered spying on Rylan’s sister like a besotted fool, he made his way to the utility room to get the tools he needed to fix the two broken desks in the classroom. As he descended the stairs to the basement, the haunting melody stayed with him, as did the ethereal beauty of Maggie’s face.

  How Maggie had missed this feeling—the joy of the notes resonating within her as they burst forth from her fingers. Her confidence grew while she played, forgotten bliss surging through her as the emotion in her music touched her soul. She had long equated the rapture of music with the rhapsody of God’s great love for her.

  Thank You, Lord, for this marvelous gift. For the healing power of music.

  When her fingers at last began to ache, she reluctantly moved away from the piano. Past experience had taught her not to push herself too hard when she’d been away from the keys. She needed to ease back into daily practice.

  After closing the lid on the magnificent instrument, Maggie rose slowly from the bench, careful not to put too much weight on the foot she’d injured during a game with the children the previous day. She limped toward the classroom, purposely ignoring the twinge of pain. As much as Maggie had wanted to join Colleen and the children on their outing, her swollen ankle had made it impossible.

  Instead, Maggie consoled herself by taking advantage of the time alone to play the piano, and she planned to familiarize herself with the material in the classroom—in particular some intriguing books about American history. If she wished to become a teacher in America, she’d have to learn the country’s history. No time like the present to begin. She hoped to impress the nuns with her eagerness to learn, as well as with her time volunteering in the classroom. If she obtained a reference from the good sisters, maybe she could find a position in one of the local schools by the fall. That, coupled with any possible work playing the organ, and she should be able to stay in New York.

  The door creaked as she entered the classroom, unusually silent without the bustle of children. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting beams of light over the desks.

  The books she wanted were stored on the top shelf of the far bookcase, likely to keep the children from damaging the teacher’s resources. Maggie huffed out a determined breath and dragged a stool over. She stretched to reach the top shelf and pulled out one book, sending a cloud of dust into the air above her head. Obviously these resources weren’t used very often.

  The urge to sneeze hit hard. She wiggled her nose to control it and reached farther for another volume.

  “What in tarnation are you doing up there? Trying to break your neck?”

  Maggie squealed and jerked on her perch, putting undue weight on her weakened foot. The book slipped from her grasp. She made a grab for it, vaguely conscious of Adam charging into the room. Her ankle buckled, and for one blinding moment, she feared a sprained ankle would be the least of her worries.

  As the book hit the floor with a resounding smack, strong hands gripped her waist, lifting her off the stool. Before she could utter a warning, Adam set her firmly on the ground. She gasped at the searing pain that shot through her leg, causing her to stumble, her face coming into contact with the scratchy wool of Adam’s vest.

  He gripped her by the elbows and lifted her, holding her weight off her injured foot. “Steady there.”

  Through her haze of pain, Adam’s calm voice soothed her. The man everyone had warned her about held her gently in his arms until she had regained her equilibrium enough to raise her head.

  “My ankle,” she whispered. “It’s sprained.”

  “But you barely touched the floor.”

  “I hurt it yesterday, and I think I twisted it again.”

  He scowled. “Why would you climb up there on an injured ankle?”

  “Just stubborn, I suppose.” She attempted a laugh to cover her discomfort and moved farther away, keeping her weight on her good foot. “Thank you. I think I can manage now.”

  Adam bent to retrieve the fallen book, wiping the dust from the leather cover. “Is this what you risked life and limb for?” The slightly baffled expression on his face made her feel foolish.

  “Aye. Thank you.” She took the book, tucked it under one arm, and then paused. “What are you doing in here? I thought you worked outside.” Maggie had been amazed that Rylan had hired Adam—even for outdoor work.

  “Rylan asked me to repair two of the desks while the children were out.”

  She took note then of the toolbox he’d dropped inside the door when he’d rushed to her aid. “Oh . . . well.” She swallowed, trying not to think about him holding her moments earlier. “I’d best let you get on with your work. Thank you again for your assistance.”

  He stood studying her, unblinking. “I heard you playing the piano earlier. You have an amazing talent.”

  The intense blueness of his eyes unnerved her as much as his hands on her waist had. She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m rusty. It’s been a while since I’ve played.”

  One brow quirked. “If that’s rusty, I can’t imagine you in full form.”

  The compliment left her off balance in more ways than one. She started to move away and almost went down as her ankle faltered. Once again, Adam caught her in a firm grip. Every sense heightened, rendering the pain in her foot null and void. His male scent, a mixture of soap and the outdoors, swirled around her. She made the mistake of looking up, a
nd the emotion smoldering in his eyes tripped her pulse. Her gaze shifted to his full lips, surrounded by the trim beard and mustache. Her fingers ached to touch his jaw, to discover if the facial hair was coarse or soft. To pull his face close and . . .

  Suddenly he stiffened and set her away from him. “You’d best go and rest that foot.”

  Mortification burned up her neck. Had her thoughts shown on her face? She stepped back and smoothed her skirt. “I will. Thank you.”

  Turning, she limped away with as much dignity as she could muster.

  Adam folded his arms over his chest, trying to ignore a mad desire to scoop up the stubborn woman and save her from hobbling like a cripple. But he’d already broken one rule, albeit by accident, just by being in the same room as Maggie. Still, her injured expression chafed at him. “Maggie, wait a minute.”

  She whirled around with amazing agility for one with a sprained ankle. “Yes?”

  “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just that . . . well, I’m sure your brother mentioned the condition of my employment here.”

  When she shook her head, he continued. “I’m to stay away from the children . . .” He paused for effect. “And more specifically, from you.”

  Her eyes darkened to the color of wet steel. “Rylan has no right to dictate who I can or cannot speak to.”

  “As a brother concerned for your welfare, he does.”

  She threw out her free hand, disgust evident on her face. “I am sick to death of my brothers trying to protect me from everything. As if I have no mind of my own.”

  For a moment, Adam thought she might stamp her foot in frustration.

  Instead, she tilted her chin. “I’m sorry if Rylan made you feel . . .”

  “Like a leper?” He gave a rueful smile. “I am a leper, Maggie. A man who’s spent time in prison is not welcome many places. It’s the price I have to pay, and I accept it.” It was the first time he’d acknowledged to her that he was an ex-convict. He held himself still, waiting for her reaction.

  To her credit, she didn’t flinch or look away. The only change in her demeanor was a hint of regret that passed over her features. “I’ll not do anything to jeopardize your position here. But I won’t ignore you if we run into each other.” She moved a step closer. “Deep down, you’re a good man, Adam O’Leary. One who’s made a mistake and is trying to make up for it. I would never hold that against you.”