A Worthy Heart Read online

  “Then it’s my job to keep reminding you.” John moved toward him. “I wasn’t sure if I should mention this or not . . .” He hesitated. “Since the building is leased to me, the chief gave me some information I think you should know.”

  At the seriousness of his tone, Adam stopped working. “What is it?”

  “The chief believes this may be a case of arson.”

  “Arson?” The word slammed into Adam with the force of an anvil. Who would do such a thing? It made no sense. Could someone have gotten wind of Adam’s past and objected to an ex-convict opening a shop here? Someone who believed he might be bad for business?

  Adam heaved the shovel into the trash pile, bitterness leaving an acidic taste in his mouth. Would this be his fate for the rest of his life, constantly dodging a barrage of prejudice and hatred, all because of a past mistake? God might forgive him, his family might even forgive him, but many others would not.

  “Did I hear you say arson?”

  Adam looked up to see Mr. Sampson picking his way across the debris. A flare of unease surfaced. “That’s right. Why?”

  The old man tugged at one of his suspenders. “Like I told the constable last night, I noticed a stranger on the edge of the crowd. Seemed real interested in what was going on. Asked about you in particular.”

  Adam’s blood turned cold. “What did the man look like?”

  Sampson moved closer, chewing on a toothpick. “Decent enough. Had a pretty nasty scar on his jaw, though. Imagined he was a friend of yours at first, but he seemed almost disappointed when the reverend here got you out.”

  Adam’s heart stalled. “Fitzgerald.”

  “Who?” John came up beside him.

  Adam paced the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust as he moved. “Maggie’s former fiancé.” Adam clenched his fists at his sides. What did this mean? Was Maggie in danger, or was this message aimed solely at Adam?

  Suddenly the loss of his shop and all its contents faded in importance. The only true thing that mattered was Maggie’s safety. As long as she was all right, Adam could bear any misfortune.

  “I’m sorry, John. I have to go and warn Maggie. I’ll see you later.”

  After pounding on Rylan’s door for what seemed like several minutes, Adam startled when the door yanked open. Colleen stood on the threshold, baby Ivy in her arms.

  “I need to speak with Maggie. It’s urgent.”

  “You’re too late.” She stared at him with a dull look. “Maggie’s gone.”

  The hair on his arms stood on end. “What do you mean? Gone where?”

  Sorrow drifted across her features. “Back to Ireland . . . with Neill Fitzgerald.”

  White flames of terror exploded through his torso, and his breathing thinned. “That’s ridiculous. She’d never go anywhere with him, especially not back to Ireland.”

  Without a word, Colleen walked into the parlor. Adam forced his feet into action and followed her. She laid Ivy in her cradle and moved to the desk in the corner, where she picked up a piece of paper. “When I got home from the orphanage this afternoon, I found this.” Her accusing glare challenged Adam. “Maggie said you broke her heart and she could no longer bear to stay here.”

  Adam took the page and scanned the hastily penned note. “This says they’re leaving tonight.” He raked a hand over his jaw, his brain whirling to take in the magnitude of the situation. He looked up. “Where’s Rylan?”

  “Gone to look for her, of course. But it’s been over an hour now.” His sister’s brows slashed her forehead in obvious concern.

  “Fitzgerald’s dangerous, Colleen. I believe he caused the fire at my shop. He must be forcing Maggie to go with him.” Adam jammed his hat on and headed to the door.

  Little Delia and Chester appeared in the hall. Traces of moisture shone on the girl’s tiny cheeks. “Uncle Adam, Aunt Maggie left without saying good-bye. Will you bring her back, please?”

  The sight of her blue eyes awash in tears twisted like a knife in Adam’s chest. He knelt down to hug her. “I’ll do my best, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head, nodded to Colleen, and dashed out the door.

  All the way to the waterfront, Adam begged God to spare Maggie, to save her from the maniac’s clutches, and prayed that, by some chance, Rylan had already found her.

  But an hour later, after scouring the docks of the Hudson River without finding Rylan or Maggie, Adam’s hope began to fade. He stopped to scan the fleets of ships lining the harbor. How would he know which one of these boats they were on? The distinct possibility that they may have already left haunted him, as did the certainty of what Fitzgerald would do to Maggie once they’d set sail.

  Helpless fury pulsed through his veins, adding to the throbbing of his wounds. Dusk had turned to full inky blackness. Dampness from the mist hovering over the water sank into Adam’s bones. He blew on his stiff fingers, his desperation mounting.

  Please Lord, help me find her.

  Shoring up his determination, he doubled back toward the ships’ offices. Maybe one of the men there would remember something. A woman as beautiful as Maggie would surely stand out. . . .

  The sound of raised voices caught Adam’s attention, spiking a rush of adrenaline. Maybe Rylan had found Maggie and needed his help. He sprinted off toward the ruckus, dodging crates and barrels, until he saw two men arguing near the steamship office.

  The man with his back to Adam raised a hand. “But I have two tickets here already paid for.”

  “Nothing I can do about it, mister.” The second huskier man moved away, revealing a woman standing to one side.

  Adam’s heart screamed to a halt in his chest.

  Maggie.

  35

  STANDING ON THE DOCK, Maggie winced as the sharp bite of wind tore through her clothing. She clutched her cloak tighter around her in a vain attempt to ward off the dampness, yet nothing stopped the cold press of fear that invaded her soul. The scent of rotting fish assaulted her senses, adding to the nausea that roiled her stomach. While Neill negotiated with a steward about their passage, she recited every prayer she knew, even resorting to bargaining with God, in a desperate attempt to procure a miracle. Anything to keep from boarding that ship. As time went on with no such miracle in sight, an overwhelming sense of the hopelessness threatened to drown her.

  She blinked back tears, forcing her mind away from the imagined hurt and confusion on Rylan and Colleen’s faces when they read her letter. Only the knowledge of the type of terror Neill was capable of unleashing on them—as well as the reminder of the gun in his pocket—had given Maggie the strength to pen the note and leave. The fact that she’d had to use Adam’s rejection as an excuse filled her with guilt. Rylan would no doubt pay Adam an unpleasant and undeserved visit to let him know exactly what he thought of his treatment of Maggie.

  How would Adam react to learning that she had left the country with Neill—after all he’d done to protect her from him? Pain radiated through Maggie’s heart at the thought of adding one more misery to Adam’s life.

  Loud voices brought her focus back to her present surroundings. Neill shook his fist at the steward outside the office, leading Maggie to believe that things weren’t going as planned. What would happen if they couldn’t get on a ship tonight? She scanned the area around her. Surely Neill wouldn’t expect her to stay in one of the filthy boarding houses meant for sailors. Yet if he did, might it offer her a chance to escape?

  A flash of movement farther down the dock claimed her attention, and she froze.

  Dear God, it can’t be.

  “Maggie!” Adam sped toward her at a flat run, his jacket flying out behind him as he dodged men loading crates onto a wagon. “Maggie, wait.”

  Her initial leap of joy at the sight of him changed to terror when Neill whirled around. The moment he spied Adam, Neill yanked her to his side, holding her captive with arms like iron bands.

  “Remember what I have in my pocket,” he hissed into her ear. “I’ll have no qualms about
putting a bullet in him.”

  Her knees shook beneath her skirts. How would she ever convince Adam she was leaving willingly with Neill? She stiffened her legs and steeled herself to do what she must to ensure his safety.

  “Come to wish us bon voyage, O’Leary? How very civilized of you.” Neill’s deceptively pleasant tone sent shivers across Maggie’s spine.

  “Let her go, Fitzgerald. She’s not going anywhere with you.” The wind whipped his hair across his forehead. His eyes glinted like blue steel.

  Maggie’s arm ached from the increased pressure of Neill’s fingers. She clamped her lips together to keep from crying out. A ship’s horn gave a mournful blare that matched the bleakness of her soul.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Maggie begged me to take her home, and I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  “You lying piece of filth.” Adam charged forward.

  Neill held out his hand. “Stop right there. Maggie, tell him I speak the truth. You’re coming home to marry me.”

  She could feel the weight of Neill’s stare boring into her as she kept her eyes trained on Adam. Neill shifted so that the hard press of the gun bit into her side. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. For Adam’s sake, she had to make him leave. “It’s true. There’s nothing left for me here.”

  “You’re going to marry him?” His hoarse question tore through Maggie’s heart like a dagger—ripping, rending, destroying.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her lie barely audible above the noise on the dock. Her eyes burned from keeping them open, certain that if she blinked, something unspeakable would happen.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t believe you. He’s forcing you to go with him.” He stepped toward her, his face wreathed in agony. “Don’t do this, Maggie. Come with me.”

  Her heart shredded further. If only she could.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t shake loose.

  Neill shoved her behind him. “She’s made her choice, O’Leary. I suggest you accept it. Go back and rebuild that shop of yours while you still can.”

  Adam clenched his hands at his sides until his knuckles ached. The temper he’d been suppressing whipped into a haze of rage, threatening to break free of its shackles, yet still he held back. He needed to be smart to outwit this piece of scum.

  Adam had never known Maggie to lie to him, but she was lying now. The panic on her face told him so. Short of killing the man, what could Adam do to free her from his clutches once and for all?

  Time seemed to stand still. Maggie struggled against Neill’s grasp as he pushed her behind him. She stumbled, tripping over her skirts, and hit the dock with a sharp cry.

  Anger became a living beast inside Adam, roaring for release, urging him to rid Maggie of Fitzgerald forever. Yet if he did so, Adam would surely hang for murder or, at the very least, face a life term in prison.

  A price he’d willingly pay to save Maggie from an even worse type of prison.

  Fitzgerald stepped toward him, silently daring him to take action, and the ugly truth hit Adam hard. He would have to sacrifice his freedom to ensure hers.

  Despite the chill in the night air, beads of sweat banded under his cap and dripped down his temple. He dared not move or break eye contact with the enemy.

  Behind Neill, Maggie scrambled to her feet and attempted to push past him, but he snagged her around the waist.

  Adam charged forward a second time.

  “Adam! No!” she cried. “He’s not worth it.”

  Adam met her frantic gaze. “You’re right, Maggie. He’s not worth it—but you are.”

  “Come on then, coward.” The taunt in Fitzgerald’s voice matched the sneer on his face. “Show her what you’re made of. Defend her questionable honor.”

  Adam exploded forward and plowed his fist into Fitzgerald’s arrogant face. The cad flew backward, crashing into a mooring post. Before he could regain his senses, Adam grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hauled him up. Blood oozed from Fitzgerald’s nose, dripping onto his fancy overcoat.

  The scent of blood added to the rush of violence surging through Adam’s veins, begging him to obliterate this sorry excuse for a human. But the roar of a more powerful force vibrated between his ears.

  Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.

  Adam could hear John’s clear voice in his head, citing the passage from Matthew he’d made Adam memorize. Words of wisdom that had held him in good stead during his incarceration and helped him keep a cool head in the prison yard.

  Adam fought to calm his erratic breathing and slow his pulse rate. Fought to control the anger that still hungered for release.

  He pushed Fitzgerald away from him with a snort of disgust. The lout stumbled against the rope fence that surrounded the water.

  Adam moved quickly to Maggie’s side. Tears stood out in her wide eyes, and she clutched the lapel of his jacket. “Be careful. He has a gun.”

  Adam jerked. A gun changed everything. “Run, Maggie. Go find Rylan. He’s out looking for you.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  Adam turned to find that Neill had risen to his feet and was fumbling to pull something from his pocket.

  Adam had one chance to act. With an enraged bellow, he charged. Maggie’s scream pierced the air, sending the gulls into a frenzy of fluttering wings.

  The second before Adam reached him, triumph flashed in Neill’s eyes. An explosion shattered the night. Searing heat blasted through Adam’s chest and radiated out through his torso. He glanced down at his shirt, stunned to see a crimson stain seeping through the material. His legs turned to rubber. Clutching his chest, he turned to find Maggie. “Run.” The word came out as a croak. Had she even heard him?

  Fat tears spilled down Maggie’s horrified face. He wanted to comfort her—tell her not to cry, tell her he loved her—but his eyes fluttered closed, breaking their connection.

  Then the world went black around him.

  36

  MAGGIE STARED IN HORROR as Adam crumpled to the ground. Behind him, gun in hand, Neill rushed toward her. She didn’t care if he pulled the trigger. If Adam died, she wanted to die, as well.

  Maggie dropped to her knees beside Adam’s body. She pulled the shawl off her head, wadded it into a ball, and pressed it against Adam’s wound.

  Shouts and footfalls drifted toward her, as though coming from a great distance. She looked over in time to see a burly dockworker swing at Neill with a club. Neill raised a hand to ward off the blow and the gun flew across the ground.

  “Somebody get help!” Her shout seemed too weak to garner attention, yet she heard others take up her plea.

  “Get a doctor.”

  “Call for the ambulance. A man’s been shot!”

  Around her, snatches of conversation and shouts from onlookers buzzed in the background of her consciousness. Her sole focus remained on keeping Adam alive. From his shallow breathing, she determined he hadn’t left her—yet.

  When Maggie glanced up again, a familiar face came into view, one that brought a rush of emotion to her throat. She waved her free arm.

  Winded, Rylan rushed over and crouched beside her. “Maggie! Are you all right?”

  “Aye, but Adam’s been shot.” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “The steward has called for an ambulance. They’ll be here soon.”

  A tear fell from her chin and landed on Adam’s neck, sliding down to his collar. “Hang on, Adam. Help is coming.”

  Please God, don’t let him die.

  Rylan pried her cold, stiff fingers away from the blood-soaked shawl. “Let me take over.”

  She conceded, realizing he could apply better pressure than she. She laid a stained hand on Adam’s cheek, silently willing him to live. Beneath his beard, his face had turned a deathly shade of gray. Just when Maggie thought she’d go mad, a murmur went through the crowd of onlookers, and two men came forwar
d carrying a stretcher.

  They moved Adam onto it with Rylan still pressing the wound. Together, they rose as one and made their way to the horse-drawn ambulance waiting at the foot of the docks.

  Clutching her skirts, Maggie followed, standing helplessly by while they loaded Adam into the back of the vehicle. She went to climb in after them, but one of the men stopped her.

  “I’m sorry, miss. You’ll have to find your own way to the hospital.”

  Maggie’s temper flared. “I’m going with him. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t bleed to death on the ride.”

  The second man had taken over from Rylan, holding Maggie’s shawl to staunch the blood flow.

  “Fred will do that, miss. Now we’d best be on our way. The sooner the doctor sees him, the better chance he’ll have.”

  Rylan gently pulled her back so the men could close the gate at the back of the wagon.

  “Come on, love. We’ll find a way there.”

  “Not yet, sir. I’m afraid I need the young lady to come with me.” A police officer stepped out of the crowd. “I’m Officer O’Brien of the New York Constabulary. I understand you witnessed the shooting.”

  Maggie only nodded. Her attention remained fixated on the ambulance as it pulled away. Fear wrenched her heart, turning and twisting in her chest. Would she ever see Adam alive again? She pressed a fist to her mouth to keep from sobbing.

  Rylan’s arm came around her shoulders. “My sister was kidnapped by the man who shot Mr. O’Leary.”

  The officer pulled out a notebook. “Then the sooner you provide us with the information, the sooner you can get to the hospital.”

  Now that the excitement was over, the crowd dissipated. The dock workers returned to loading barrels onto the cargo ships. A few stragglers murmured to themselves about the dangerous people trying to get passage.

  A type of numbness invaded Maggie’s limbs, spreading through her body. The ambulance had moved out of her sight. She couldn’t do anything for Adam right now except help to catch the man who’d harmed him. She sucked in a long breath. “Will you provide us a ride to the hospital when we’re finished?”