Keeping Secrets Read online

  Her gaze went from the small clock on the parlor table to Peg. "It's getting late. Time for bed, love," she said.

  "Ma!" Peg complained. "I'm older now. I shouldn't have to go to bed at eight-thirty. Besides, it's my birthday!"

  "Birthday or no birthday, you have school tomorrow," Ma repUed. "I'm not sending you off to Miss Thomas to yawn in her face and stumble over your simis." She bent to kiss Peg on the forehead and pull her to her feet. "Good night, love."

  "Ma, you don't treat me seriously," Peg complained. "I'm old enough to take on a fair share of the cooking and cleaning—and do a good job of it! Yet you send me off to bed as though I'm an infant! You're all going to talk about Miss Hennessey and the raid and her escape, and 1 want to hear, too!"

  "No, you don't," Ma said. "Things have happened in this miserable war that are too horrible for young ears to hear and young minds to comprehend."

  "But—"

  "Good night, Peggy, my love," Ma said. Her hug turned into a gentle push toward the stairs.

  Grumbling under her breath, Peg hurried outside through the cool night air to the privy, then—taking one of the lamps—slowly climbed the stairs to her room, which was across from the head of the stairs. She poured cold water from the pitcher into the basin and washed her face, then slipped into her nightgown and slid under the puffy quilt, pulling it up to her chin.

  The bed was soon cozy with body warmth, and the distant hum of voices from the parlor made Peg drowsy. She closed her eyes, snuggled under the quilt, and began to drift into sleep; but she was suddenly startled awake by the creak of floorboards in the hall outside her room.

  The faint creaking stopped. Whoever had trod on the boards must still be there, neither moving on nor returning. Overcome with curiosity, Peg slipped out of bed, pulled on a cotton wrapper, and silently opened her bedroom door.

  Deep in the shadows, hugging the wall on the top stair, sat Violet Hennessey, her chin stretched forward and her head tilted as if she were listening to the conversation in the parlor below.

  Peg sucked in her breath, astounded at the change in Miss Hennessey. The shy, drab victim had disappeared, replaced by a handsome woman, her long, dark hair woven in a thick braid that hung over a ruffled and embroidered white cotton gown and wrapper more elegant than any Peg could have imagined.

  The tiny sound Peg had made alerted Miss Hennes-

  sey, who whirled, eyes wide. For just an instant they stared at each other, then Miss Hennessey's shoulders curled inward and she slumped against the wall, tugging the neck of her wrapper into a wad under her chin. A tiny, apologetic smile flickered on her lips and she motioned to Peg to come closer.

  Blinking, Peg wondered if she had imagined the quick glimpse of the woman she thought she had seen. She dropped to the top stair beside Miss Hennessey, who whispered into Peg's ear, "I left my reticule somewhere downstairs. I was on my way to retrieve it but was suddenly overcome with dizziness. I sat down, afraid I'd fall."

  "I'll get Ma," Peg said and began to rise, but Miss Hennessey clutched Peg's arm with fragile, trembling fingers.

  "Please don't worry your mother with my condition," she murmured. "I'm feeling stronger now. I'm sure I can go back to my room unaided, but I do need the sleeping powders I keep in my reticule. Please, Peg, will you fetch it for me?"

  Tears welled up in Miss Hennessey's eyes. She looked so pitiful that sympathy for her immediately swept away any doubts Peg may have had. "Of course I will," she said.

  She helped Miss Hennessey to her feet and trotted down the stairs and into the parlor.

  The conversation suddenly stopped.

  "You were talking about Miss Hennessey, weren't you?" Peg demanded.

  FYances looked surprised. "We were talking about Petey. I was telling them how well he's reading now and about some of the funny stories he makes up."

  "It doesn't matter what we were talking about," Ma

  said sternly. "Just what are you doing out of bed so long after your bedtime?"

  Peg sighed elaborately and rolled her eyes. "Ma, you just take it for granted that I'm breaking rules. You don't even give me a chance to explain, even though I have a perfectly good reason for coming downstairs. You don't even ask why I'm here."

  "That's exactly what I did do—ask," Ma told her. "And now will you please give us the answer?"

  Indignantly, Peg stood as tall as she could. "Miss Hennessey left her reticule on a table. She asked me to get it for her."

  Ma put down her mending, and got to her feet. "You're right. Peg. You did have a good reason. I'll help you find the reticule."

  Frances jumped up. "I know where it is. It's on the table by the door," she said.

  "I'll get it myself!" Peg whirled around, swept up the plain, black reticule and marched toward the stairs. When she realized that Ma was right on her heels she stopped and turned. "Miss Hennessey asked me not to bother you," she said. "She won't like it if you come upstairs."

  "She may need something," Ma answered. "Fresh water or an extra blanket."

  "If she does, I can take care of it," Peg complained. "I know how to fetch water or find a blanket."

  Ma put her hands on Peg's shoulders. For an instant she hesitated. Then she said, "Don't be so quick to imagine offense, love. You're a fine, capable girl, and I appreciate all that you do. Give us a kiss now, and I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

  Her resentment dissolving in a rush. Peg kissed her mother's cheek and hurried up the stairs.

  She dutifully offered the fresh water and extra

  blanket to Miss Hennessey, who huddled in the middle of the bed, the quilt pulled up to her nose.

  "No, thank you," Miss Hennessey mumbled. "I need nothing more than rest."

  Peg, more sleepy than she'd want to admit, gratefully shut the door to the guest room behind her and headed for her own bed.

  In the morning she reluctantly prepared for school, begging Ma, "Can't I at least stay until Frances gets the horse and wagon?"

  When Ma shook her head. Peg turned to Frances. "Why can't you visit with us longer? Do you have to go so soon?"

  "I'm needed at home," Frances said, and Peg saw Ma wince.

  "This is your home, too," Peg insisted.

  Frances glanced at Ma and smiled, then gently smoothed the curly, red fringe of hair that hung over Peg's forehead. "I'm teaching school now, Peg. I was lucky to find a full-time position nearby, and I don't want to lose it."

  "Teaching school? Oh, Frances! I wish you were my teacher!"

  "No, you don't," Frances teased. "I'd make you stay after school and clean all the slates."

  "Who's teaching your students while you're here?"

  "Mrs. Cummings was kind enough to step in for me for a few days, but I can't impose on her good nature."

  Peg sighed in admiration of her big sister. Sixteen, and already with a full-time teaching job! There had been times lately when Peg—hating the daily memorization of arithmetic tables and history dates—had promised herself never to set foot inside a school-house, once she had reached fourteen. But at the mo-

  ment she began thinking favorably of someday becoming a teacher, just like Frances.

  As Ma packed a small lunch pail for Peg and a large basket of food for Frances, with treats inside to take to Petey, she worried aloud.

  "Are you sure you'll be safe traveling alone?" she asked.

  "I'll be fine, Ma. I can take care of myself."

  "But what if Quantrill and his hke . . . ?"

  "Quantrill and his men ran to the south when Union forces rode into Lawrence."

  "There are other bushwhackers about."

  "Ma, you know as well as I do that it's the lower counties along the Kansas-Missouri border that have had most of the trouble. During the last few months there've been very few skirmishes in Buchanan County or in northern Kansas."

  "All well and good, but you'll be traveling until late tonight."

  Frances smiled. "I can handle a rifle as well as any man.
I'll be safe. I promise."

  A rifle! Was there nothing Frances couldn't do? Peg's heart swelled with admiration.

  Ma paused, folding a cloth over the contents of the basket. She looked at Frances with such yearning in her eyes that the feeling in Peg's heart turned to a dull ache. "Then I ask God's blessing upon you, Frances Mary. May he send His angels to guide and protect you on your journey."

  She took a long, shuddering breath and added, "My goodness! Look at the time! Run, Peg, or you'll be late for school."

  "Ma!" Peg complained, but she gave her mother and Frances quick hugs and hurried toward the front door.

  Peg had no sooner shut the front door behind her when Miss Hennessey, well swathed in shawls, suddenly appeared at her side. Peg jumped and let out a squeak of fright.

  "Oh, dear, oh, dear! I didn't mean to startle you," Miss Hennessey said. She gripped Peg's arm with much more strength than she'd shown the night before. Bending close to Peg's ear she said, "I've been waiting to talk to you. I need your help."

  "I'll get Ma," Peg began, motioning toward the house, but Miss Hennessey shook her head.

  "This is something just between you and me." Again the shy smile flickered. "It's easy to see that you're an intelligent, brave girl. Brave and smart enough to keep a secret."

  "What secret?"

  "That I'm staying here at your home."

  Peg knew she must look surprised, because Miss Hennessey hurried to explain. "Oh, there are bound to be some people who will know I'm here. I'm not in hiding from your neighbors. I'd just rather that as few people as possible know of my presence. I'm asking you not to tell your friends, or your teacher, or the shopkeeper, or anyone else with whom you might stop and visit."

  Peg hesitated. The only thing that could possibly pull her away from Frances Mary's departure and this mysterious woman who had come to visit them was to tell her friends what had happened. May would turn pink with envy, and her sister, April, would beg to be told more. Marcus and WiUie would scoff, but they'd Usten, especially if Peg made the story as exciting as possible. She'd already planned how she'd begin. "It was late at night. We heard a frantic pounding at our door . . ."

  "After my dreadful experience I'm so afraid." Miss Hemiessey, tears rushing again to her eyes, interrupted Peg's thoughts. "I'm so terribly, terribly afraid."

  "I won't tell," Peg promised, disgusted at her quick capitulation, because she always kept her promises, no matter what. There went her few moments of glory at school.

  "Thank you," Miss Hennessey whispered. She patted Peg's shoulder, then silently opened the door and slipped into the house.

  Why should Miss Hennessey be so afraid? Peg wondered. She'd left Lawrence before Quantrill had even arrived. He and his men certainly wouldn't follow her here.

  Peg heard the school bell in the distance. She was going to be late, which meant she'd be punished again. What was it going to be this time? A slap on the hands with a ruler? Or sitting in the comer during recess?

  Taking a firm grip on her lunch pail and books, Peg ran as fast as she could up the hill.

  Close to four o'clock, when Peg arrived home, she found Ma and Miss Hennessey in the kitchen having a companionable cup of tea. Ma greeted Peg with a kiss, took the cozy off the large teapot, and poured Peg a cup.

  Miss Hennessey's eyes searched Peg's face, and Peg—knowing what she was asking—gave a slight nod.

  Gratefully, Miss Hennessey sank back into her chair, cradling her cup under her chin, breathing in the fragrant steam.

  "You'll be glad to know that Miss Hennessey is feeling nearly her own self again," Ma told Peg.

  "That's good news," Peg said. Miss Hennessey still

  looked dowdy and plain, but her cheeks were pink, and she did seem stronger. For one thing, she was no longer ducking her head, peering upward like a frightened kitten.

  As Peg stirred sugar into her teacup, Ma asked, "Tell us about school, love. What did you do today?"

  "Nothing," Peg said and took a sip, wincing as the tea burned her tongue.

  "Ah, it's amazing to me how much learning you absorb, sitting there in the schoolhouse day after day doing nothing at all."

  "Oh, Ma," Peg mumbled. "You know what I mean. We just don't do anything interesting enough to talk about."

  Miss Hennessey spoke up. "Your mother and I were talking about her children and the homes they live in." She reached across to gently touch Noreen's hand. "It must have been very hard for you to give them up."

  "It would have been much harder to be unable to give them a decent life if they'd remained in New York City."

  "And if Mike—" Peg stopped abruptly, hiding her embarrassment in taking another sip of the hot tea. Ma probably hadn't told Miss Hennessey about Mike being arrested in New York City for copper stealing and how she saved him from being sent to Tombs Prison by appealing to the Reverend Charles Brace of the Children's Aid Society to intercede with the judge.

  "Frances told me about Mike," Miss Hennessey said softly, as though she could read Peg's mind. "Your mother was a very brave woman. And you children . . . you were very brave, too, to come west on an orphan train."

  Brave? Peg hadn't really thought about being brave. Going to foster homes was something that had to be

  done, so they did it without question. She remembered how frightened she'd been at the room filled with strange people who'd come to look them over, and how she'd clung to Danny, wondering if they'd find homes . . . wondering if they'd be separated. That journey had taken place three long years ago, before Ma had been able to come west to join them.

  John Murphy, whom Ma had married, made a fairly comfortable living with his busy blacksmith shop— and continued to do so in spite of the war—but it wasn't good enough to support six children, so all the Kelly children but Peg—Frances and Petey with her, Megan, Mike and Danny—had stayed with the kind and loving people who had taken them in.

  "Now that you've heard about our family, why don't you tell us something about yours?" Ma asked Miss Hennessey. "Were you staying with family in Lawrence?"

  "No. I stayed only briefiy in Lawrence and not with family. My family is from Boston," Miss Hennessey said into her teacup.

  "Are they still there?"

  "No. Not any longer." Her voice so faint Peg could scarcely hear her. Miss Hennessey said, "It's all too fresh, too painful to talk about."

  "I'm sorry," Ma said. She glanced at the clock, jumped to her feet, and busied herself with scraping carrots at the drainboard. As an afterthought she looked over her shoulder toward Peg. "Best get to your sums, my little love."

  "I will. Ma," Peg answered, unable to completely hide her aggravation at being reminded.

  Miss Hennessey smiled at Peg. "I'm sure you're very good at your studies."

  "Fairly good, I guess," Peg answered modestly.

  "I could tell. I know you must do well in all your subjects. Do you like history?"

  "Not really," Peg admitted. "I hate having to memorize names and dates."

  Miss Hennessey nodded sympathetically. "I suppose that names and dates will always have to be memorized, but history should be interesting. History is about people and the fine things they've done and the mistakes they've made. History is a collection of exciting stories. Don't you agree?"

  "I guess so," Peg answered. It hadn't occurred to her to think of history in those terms.

  "For example, I know some interesting stories about the childhood and background of President Abraham Lincoln. Perhaps after supper tonight you might Uke to hear them."

  "Yes. Thank you." Peg smiled at Miss Hennessey and reached for her schoolbooks. She was surprised at what a nice person Miss Hennessey had turned out to be. Maybe she had been wrong in having a few misgivings about her.

  Over the next few days Violet Hennessey became not just a nice person in Peg's niind, but a friend.

  Ma never failed to renund Peg of perfectly obvious things Peg had planned to do anyway: "It's breezy out, Peg, so take a shawl."
r />   "Don't forget to tidy your room before you leave for school."

  "Remember to study your spelling, love. Last week you lost out in the final round of the spelling bee because you misspelled the word Miss Thomas gave you."

  But Miss Hennessey treated Peg as if she were another adult: "Your muffins are delicious. I would love to have the receipt."

  "I've heard that President Lincoln is considering a proclamation that would create a national holiday of

  Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November. How do you feel about this, Peg? Do you think a hoUday like this would be successfully observed—especially during this time of war?"

  "Oh, Peg! I have a deUcious story to share with you. Last spring that circus man, John P. Bamam's star attraction. General Tom Thumb, who is only thirty-five inches tall was married to Miss Lavinia Warren, who is a scant thirty-two inches tall! Well ... a friend of mine who attended wrote at the time that the bride's dress was quite expensive but overly flounced and . . ."

  Peg, who bridled at her mother's continual advice, luxuriated in feeling almost grown-up when she was with Miss Hennessey.

  On the third day of Miss Hennessey's stay Ma, who felt that fresh air was important to good health, suggested that Peg take Miss Hennessey walking.

  To Peg's surprise, Miss Hennessey seemed eager to walk, and as they left the house she said, 'T understand there is a delightful overlook above the Missouri River. Could we walk there?"

  "Oh, yes," Peg said. "There's a little woods, and a winding path and wildflowers in the spring. It's one of my favorite places."

  Eagerly she led the way, but she was puzzled when Miss Hennessey's attention turned to the woods and not to the wide view of the river.

  The next day, when Peg returned from school. Ma was alone in the kitchen.

  Peg snatched a cold biscuit left over from breakfast, stuffed a large bite into her mouth, and asked, "Where's Miss Hennessey?"

  "Out walking," Ma told her, "and don't talk with your mouth full."