Mail Order Devastation (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 4) Read Online Free
Author: Julianna Blake
this is Sister Mary Clare. When you’re feeling up to it, she can help you down the stairs. Unless you don’t think you can make it home, that is.”
The sister ’s wrinkled brow furrowed even deeper, and Mollie was sure the woman was worried they’d have to find a way to feed an unexpected overnight guest. She imagined that resources were scarce, with the long list of children Mollie saw, who came in each month.
There ’s no way I can finagle a way to get them to leave me alone in here again. One of them will end up staying with me, to make sure I’m alright.
Mollie lifted her foot and rotated her ankle slowly. “I think I’ll be alright. If Sister Mary Clare could just escort me down the stairs to make sure I don’t fall, I’m sure I can make it.”
“ Are you sure? You took quite a spill. I’d hate for you to collapse in the street.”
“ Oh, there’s a horsecar I can take most of the way home, if I feel like it’s too sore to walk on.”
Sister nodded. “I wish there was more I could do for you, Miss Quinn. I know it’s hard to hear, but perhaps it’s for the best if the child is in a home where you know she’ll always be warm, safe, and well fed. And I promise you, they were a good, Catholic couple. Said they go to Mass every Sunday, and often on weekdays as well. She’ll be raised well.”
Mollie had to bite back a bitter retort. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have placed Nell with them if they weren’t fine people, Sister.” Somehow she managed a tight smile. She wanted to rail against the woman, who knew nothing of what it was like to have your own flesh and blood torn from you. She wanted to weep and cry and scream…but she knew the elderly nun meant well, and being unkind to a woman who dedicated her life to God and to the care of Boston’s forgotten children wouldn’t bring Nell back.
Sister Mary Clare helped her downstairs, and out to the street. Though her heart ached to be leaving without Nell, at least Mollie had hope.
And two names.
Chapter 4
Wednesday April 3, 1890
Mollie shivered against the bitter wind as she stood tucked into a recessed doorway across the street from the stately Newberry Street home. She’d been forced to move on and walk around the block two times already, when well-dressed neighbors had passed by casting a curious—and disdainful—glance her way. She didn’t want to be rousted by the police for loitering.
This was her last chance. Nell had to be inside the home across the street. Mollie had already been to the Stirling residence three days before, and had been fortunate it was a Sunday—she’d caught the couple coming out as they alighted into a carriage, on their way to Mass. She had tried to stroll by casually, but she didn’t need to get very close to see the baby hadn’t been Nell—the Stirlings had adopted a chubby little boy, older than Nell and dressed in a fine blue suit with white piping. Her heart had sunk at the sight of his pudgy arm emerging from the confines of his cashmere swaddling blanket.
It had taken longer to locate the Demings —they weren’t quite as wealthy as the Stirlings, and were therefore less well known. Apparently they were renting their fashionable Newberry Street home, and had only been in Boston a few years. Mollie had spent her last few coins bribing old service acquaintances—who were only averse to speaking to a ruined woman such as herself until the money was brought out—and eventually she found out where the Demings lived.
It was early afternoon before Mollie finally spied someone coming out of the house —a servant coming up the recessed stairs that led down to the servant’s entrance hidden underneath the home’s main stairs. The blonde woman was several years older than Mollie—a kitchen maid, she guessed, based on the style of uniform dress peeking out from under the woman’s coat.
Mollie hurried across the
The sister ’s wrinkled brow furrowed even deeper, and Mollie was sure the woman was worried they’d have to find a way to feed an unexpected overnight guest. She imagined that resources were scarce, with the long list of children Mollie saw, who came in each month.
There ’s no way I can finagle a way to get them to leave me alone in here again. One of them will end up staying with me, to make sure I’m alright.
Mollie lifted her foot and rotated her ankle slowly. “I think I’ll be alright. If Sister Mary Clare could just escort me down the stairs to make sure I don’t fall, I’m sure I can make it.”
“ Are you sure? You took quite a spill. I’d hate for you to collapse in the street.”
“ Oh, there’s a horsecar I can take most of the way home, if I feel like it’s too sore to walk on.”
Sister nodded. “I wish there was more I could do for you, Miss Quinn. I know it’s hard to hear, but perhaps it’s for the best if the child is in a home where you know she’ll always be warm, safe, and well fed. And I promise you, they were a good, Catholic couple. Said they go to Mass every Sunday, and often on weekdays as well. She’ll be raised well.”
Mollie had to bite back a bitter retort. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have placed Nell with them if they weren’t fine people, Sister.” Somehow she managed a tight smile. She wanted to rail against the woman, who knew nothing of what it was like to have your own flesh and blood torn from you. She wanted to weep and cry and scream…but she knew the elderly nun meant well, and being unkind to a woman who dedicated her life to God and to the care of Boston’s forgotten children wouldn’t bring Nell back.
Sister Mary Clare helped her downstairs, and out to the street. Though her heart ached to be leaving without Nell, at least Mollie had hope.
And two names.
Chapter 4
Wednesday April 3, 1890
Mollie shivered against the bitter wind as she stood tucked into a recessed doorway across the street from the stately Newberry Street home. She’d been forced to move on and walk around the block two times already, when well-dressed neighbors had passed by casting a curious—and disdainful—glance her way. She didn’t want to be rousted by the police for loitering.
This was her last chance. Nell had to be inside the home across the street. Mollie had already been to the Stirling residence three days before, and had been fortunate it was a Sunday—she’d caught the couple coming out as they alighted into a carriage, on their way to Mass. She had tried to stroll by casually, but she didn’t need to get very close to see the baby hadn’t been Nell—the Stirlings had adopted a chubby little boy, older than Nell and dressed in a fine blue suit with white piping. Her heart had sunk at the sight of his pudgy arm emerging from the confines of his cashmere swaddling blanket.
It had taken longer to locate the Demings —they weren’t quite as wealthy as the Stirlings, and were therefore less well known. Apparently they were renting their fashionable Newberry Street home, and had only been in Boston a few years. Mollie had spent her last few coins bribing old service acquaintances—who were only averse to speaking to a ruined woman such as herself until the money was brought out—and eventually she found out where the Demings lived.
It was early afternoon before Mollie finally spied someone coming out of the house —a servant coming up the recessed stairs that led down to the servant’s entrance hidden underneath the home’s main stairs. The blonde woman was several years older than Mollie—a kitchen maid, she guessed, based on the style of uniform dress peeking out from under the woman’s coat.
Mollie hurried across the
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