Page 74 of Calling on the Matchmaker
She wasn’t sure. In fact, she was suddenly queasy at the thought of what she’d just promised him. But she forced the worries down. “I’m sure.”
He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. “Will you tell me how you really feel?”
She knew what he was asking, that she open herself up and share with him her truest feelings about him, about marriage, about their future. But a part of her didn’t know what to feelor how to express herself. All she could do was express the wee bit she could. “You have nothing to worry about now, so you don’t.”
He held her gaze a moment longer, giving her the chance to say more.
She searched inside, trying to find an answer that would satisfy him. “I’ll do my best to be a good wife. I promise.”
After a moment, he opened his mouth, started to say something, then closed it. He gave her a nod, then crossed to the door and exited without another word or glance her way.
“As you just heard,” he said to the people standing in the hallway, “Finola and I are still planning to get married.”
“Today.” Father O’Kirwin spoke above the others.
“No, we’ll continue with the previous arrangements,” Riley said, “and get married on Shrove Tuesday.”
Father O’Kirwin protested, but Riley cut him off. “Shrove Tuesday and not a day sooner.”
Finola flopped back onto the pillows, the bedsprings squeaking below her. Quickly she tabulated the days left until the start of Lent. Only three weeks. It was too much time. What if she changed her mind about marrying Riley between now and then? Maybe that’s why he’d given her the extra time, to allow her to be certain.
But now that she’d agreed to the plans, she intended to go through with them, no matter how much she might doubt her decision.
25
We have to do more to fight the spread.” Riley’s voice rose above those of the other men gathered outside the First Street tenements, the dirtiest and most crowded of the slums in the Kerry Patch.
The hazy late-afternoon sunlight was trying to peek through the low, dark clouds. For early February, the wind coming off the Mississippi still brought a chill to his cheeks and fingers, but the worst of the winter seemed to be over.
Unfortunately, the worst of the cholera only seemed to be starting.
“What more do you suggest?” One of the leaders of the gang that controlled the Clabber Alley tenements leaned against Riley’s wagon, now empty of all the supplies he and Finola had already delivered.
In the past week and a half since his own battle with the deadly disease, the number of cases in the tenements had been increasing, especially those closest to the river where the poorest of the immigrants arriving in St. Louis crowded together. He didn’t know the actual death count, but he’d heard over twenty-five people had died and dozens were now sick.
The few doctors willing to come into the Kerry Patch weren’table to do much but administer morphine to aid with the pain, but even that was often too little, too late for those suffering.
Riley only had to think back to the excruciating abdominal pain he’d experienced to know the suffering was terrible. After his recovery, he’d learned that he had a mild case, that the doctor had been confident he’d recover.
Bellamy had since confessed that he’d only retrieved Finola once he knew Riley was getting better, that he hadn’t wanted to put Finola in danger. But, of course, the young matchmaker had led Finola to believe Riley was sick enough to die so that she’d rush over. Her efforts hadn’t been for nothing. The sugar-salt water solution had helped him recover more quickly than normal.
Riley hadn’t been sure whether to hug or throttle Bellamy for his scheming, not only getting Finola to his apartment but then also in finagling their getting in bed together and being caught in the indecent situation.
They’d been the talk of the town for a few days. But most folks he knew had brushed aside the indiscretion—or teased him mercilessly—because he’d ended up back together with Finola, and their wedding was still planned for Shrove Tuesday. Less than two weeks away on February 20.
Finola, on the other hand, had been dealt with more harshly among her peers, who were quick to judge and less forgiving. Her mam and da had returned to the city, having heard the rumors. They’d attempted to salvage the situation, spreading new rumors about how Finola had sacrificed greatly to serve her future husband at the time of his deepest need.
James Shanahan had approached Riley and suggested moving the wedding day up in another attempt to protect Finola’s reputation. But in the end, Riley had convinced Shanahan and everyone else that waiting until Shrove Tuesday as they’d originally planned would prove that he and Finola had done nothing wrong and therefore had no reason to rush into marriage.
But the truth was, Riley had needed the extra time to assure himself that Finola really meant what she’d said about marrying him willingly and that she wouldn’t scheme again. At the time she’d spoken the words, he’d been afraid that Bellamy—aided by Father O’Kirwin—had pushed her too hard.
Every day, he waited with the uneasy premonition that she’d only spoken the words as another ploy, that she would somehow devise a new way to get out of the match. But over the past days, she’d done nothing to undermine their relationship—at least that he was aware of.
Of course, she’d been on her best behavior, not wanting to give her parents any reason to make her go to the country home with them. They’d all but demanded she do so when they’d visited. But Riley had privately asked Shanahan if Finola could stay in the city, hinting that doing so would hopefully solidify Finola’s feelings for him.
Riley glanced to the window of the tenement where Finola was helping, and he released a half sigh. If only her stayinghadsolidified her feelings for him. He’d hoped she’d get to know him better and learn to care about him. He even hoped she would look forward to their marriage and starting a life together. But instead, she seemed to find excuses to hold him at arm’s length.
Part of him had begun to wonder if that was her new strategy—agree to marry him but not allow herself to get too close to him.
