“Too late,” Miss Flora said. “Here they come.”
Kate could see Mr. Farouk trembling as he and Petersen stepped forward to meet them. The sheikh was carrying his rifle, and the Bedouin men surrounding him were all yelling and acting crazy. “Get in the tent, Kate,” Miss Rebecca said. Kate backed up a few steps as if she was going to obey, but she stayed close enough to hear what was going on as Mr. Farouk and Miss Rebecca translated.
“The sheikh is accusing Petersen of going back on his word,” Miss Rebecca said as the man ranted. “He says he brought us to the monastery, and now he wants to know what Petersen has decided.”
“What should I tell him?” Petersen asked calmly. The man was an icicle. Nothing ever got through to him, even gunfire.
“Did you have a chance to talk to the monks?” Miss Rebecca asked her sister. “Can they help us?”
“I tried. They aren’t interested in this drama. The prior said the reason they live out here is to get away from the world and to commune with God. And since the problem has to do with worldly lusts and they’ve taken a vow of celibacy, they’re staying out of it.”
“Did you explain that we have no way of getting home except by the sheikh’s caravan?” Miss Rebecca asked.
“The prior said we’re welcome to wait here until another group of pilgrims pays a visit. He says they do get visitors every now and then. But he can’t guarantee that any of them would be willing to take us with them or that they’d have enough camels for all of us.”
“Our food is going to run out before too long,” Miss Rebecca said. “If we make the sheikh angry, he might ride away and leave us.”
“He waits for your answer,” Mr. Farouk said. “What do I tell to him?”
Petersen drew a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “Tell him that I’ve decided to marry the girl myself. The sheikh has helped me see how desirable she is, and now I’m eager to marry her. I would also like to have a son.”
Miss Flora laid her hand on his arm. “Soren, wait. Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to, you know. We could try to find another way.”
“Yes, I’m certain. Tell him, Mr. Farouk.”
The little man translated Petersen’s words, and before he even had a chance to finish, the sheikh went into another tirade, waving his gun and shouting.
“He’s asking, ‘When? When?’” Miss Rebecca said. “He doesn’t believe Soren. He says if he truly wanted the girl, he would take her into his tent right now. He says the fact that he doesn’t proves that we’re lying to him.” When the sheikh finally finished shouting, he stood with his rifle pointing to the sky as he glared at Petersen.
Kate could no longer keep quiet. “What are we going to do?”
“You’re supposed to be in the tent!” Miss Flora said in an angry whisper. “You need to stay out of sight!”
“No! This has to do with me, so I have a right to hear what’s going on.”
Miss Rebecca turned to her. “Well, if we want to make it out of here alive, it looks as though you may have to marry Petersen.”
“I’d sooner die!”
“That’s one option, I suppose,” Miss Rebecca replied, as if trying not to smile. “Your other choices are to marry the sheikh or to live in the monastery with the monks for the rest of your life. Or to hope someone comes along someday who will take you home.”
“And what if I refuse? What if I don’t want to marry either one of them? Are you going to force me to?”
“No, of course not,” Miss Flora said. “But if you choose to marry Petersen, the marriage will be in name only. No real marriage union would take place. I can’t promise the same with the sheikh.”
“And you’ll be Petersen’s only wife,” Miss Rebecca added. “I understand that the sheikh has several. Oh, and he expects you to produce a son. It’s hard to say what will happen if you give him a daughter like all his other wives have.”
Kate growled in frustration. “Who came up with this stupid idea, anyway?”
“I’m no happier about it than you are,” Petersen said. “But I’ll do anything to keep Miss Flora and Miss Rebecca safe—even marry you!”
“So, if I go through with this fake marriage,” Kate said, “then what happens?”
“Well, we’re hoping it will convince the sheikh that he can’t have you,” Miss Flora said, “and he’ll give up the idea of marrying you.”
“And hopefully, it won’t make him so angry that he’ll take his camels and his caravan drivers and leave us stranded here,” Miss Rebecca added.
“He will not do that,” Mr. Farouk said. “His camels make much money for him. He wants your money, too.”
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Farouk,” Miss Rebecca said. “You’ve gotten everything else wrong so far.”
“Will I still have to be married to Petersen when we get home?” Kate asked.
“There won’t be a marriage license, dear,” Miss Flora replied, “so it won’t be legal. And you won’t be saying any real vows since we’re the only ones who understand English. It will be as though you’re acting in a play.”
“Are you willing to give it a try, Kate?” Miss Rebecca asked. “For all our sakes?”
The sheikh had them backed into a corner. This seemed like the only way out. “I guess so,” Kate replied.
Petersen gave a huge sigh, which Kate interpreted as relief. He took over. “Tell the sheikh that I’ll marry the girl right away. We’ll hold the wedding in two days so we’ll have time to prepare. He and his people are invited to the celebration.”
“Won’t that be throwing this in his face?” Miss Flora asked.
“Maybe. But he needs to believe it’s real.”
After Mr. Farouk translated, the sheikh stared at Petersen for what seemed like a very long time. The icicle-man never flinched. “Two days,” the sheikh finally said. “I will be here to witness.” He turned and strode off with his men following close behind.
“Do we have enough supplies left to stage a wedding celebration?” Miss Flora asked.
“I don’t know,” Miss Rebecca replied. “Maybe the sheikh will sell us a goat or two to roast. Listen,” she said, turning to Kate, “if this plan stands any chance of working, you’re going to have to act nicer to Petersen in the days leading up to the wedding. The reason the sheikh is attracted to you is because he thinks you’re fiery. If you act subdued, maybe he won’t want you.”
“I don’t know what subdued means,” Kate said.
Miss Rebecca laughed and surprised Kate by putting her arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. “Your words are truer than you intended, my dear. I like you, Kate! . . . Now, you know once you’re ‘married,’ you and Petersen will have to pretend to live together.”
The thought of it made Kate shudder. “I don’t know if I can do that. I need to think about this.” She stalked off to her tent to be alone, wondering how she ever got into this mess. Was this pretend wedding really the only way out? She lay down on her cot and stared up at the canvas ceiling. It seemed like people were always using her.
How did she end up here anyway?
Chapter 29
CHICAGO
1889
ONE YEAR AGO
Kate Rafferty sat on the floor of the jail cell, trying not to gag as one of her cellmates heaved into a bucket. Kate had been in some pretty low places, but this was the lowest. All those times when she’d thought her life couldn’t get any worse—like when her father got drunk and beat her and when the factory foreman cornered her and tried to grab her—they’d been nothing compared to being locked behind bars in a freezing cold cell with four other women and only a metal bucket to do her business in—right in front of the guards and everyone else, no less.
Before tonight Kate had lived day-to-day for almost a year, ever since her father threw her out for quitting her factory job. He hadn’t cared that the foreman wanted Kate to do a lot more than stitch seams. “If you can’t keep a job and pay your own way,” her father had shouted,
“then you can’t live under my roof. This isn’t a blasted hotel.” He’d started swinging his fists, and Kate had run out the door with only the clothes on her back. She’d been stealing in order to live ever since, and doing pretty well at it, too, until she’d gotten overconfident and tried to snatch a woman’s purse outside a theater and some do-gooder on the street managed to catch her. “You’re in a lot of trouble,” the policeman told Kate as he’d slammed the cell door shut.
The night seemed endless, and since there were only two beds in the cell and the other women were larger and meaner than she was, Kate sat down in the corner—as far from the stinking bucket as possible—and tried to sleep. It proved impossible, worried as she was about what would happen to her and if she would ever get out of jail. When daylight started creeping through the cell’s only window, the jailors brought watery oatmeal and stale bread.
Afterward, Kate had no choice but to use the bucket. She felt like crying but refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her beaten down. When the jailor returned for the breakfast dishes, he brought a bucket of water, a bar of soap, and a threadbare towel. “Clean yourselves up, girls,” he said. “You’ve got a court appearance this morning.”
Kate waited until last to wash, aware that at barely eighteen she was the youngest and smallest of the women. They all acted as though this stint in jail was routine. “What’s going to happen to us?” she asked as the last woman to wash handed the towel and soap to her.
“You never been here before?” the woman asked. Kate shook her head. “You want me to ask Joe if he’ll help you out when he comes for me?”
“Sure,” Kate said with a shrug. She pretended to be indifferent, but any help, even from a stranger, was better than none. A few minutes later a handsome, well-dressed man in his forties with shiny black hair and shoes strode down the corridor to their cell. He was followed by a short, portly man with wire-rimmed glasses and a leather satchel. The woman Kate had spoken to leaped up from the cot when she saw him.
“Joe! You come to get me out of here?”
“I’m going to try, Sugar. Hey, who’s that little beauty?” he asked when he spotted Kate.
“I’m Kate Rafferty,” she said, hurrying over to stand by the bars. “Can you get me out of here, too?”
“Well, I don’t know. You didn’t murder anybody, did you?” He smiled, and some of his teeth were coated with gold, giving him a handsome, glittery grin.
“I tried to snatch some big-mouthed lady’s purse,” Kate replied. “She squealed like a stuck pig, and I got caught. If you can tell me how to get out of here, I’d be obliged.”
“This your first offense, Kate?”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t the first time she’d snatched a purse, but should she tell him that?
Joe gave a little laugh. “I mean, have you ever been caught and sent to jail before?”
“No.”
“Hmm. Let me see what I can do. I’ll meet both of you ladies in court.”
A short time later the jailors herded Kate and the other four women into a courtroom to stand before the judge. Kate had no idea what was going on, but true to his word, the golden-toothed man told the man with the briefcase to stand beside her and help her talk to the judge when her turn came. A few hours later, Kate and the woman Joe called Sugar were released from jail. Joe was waiting for them with his carriage. “Climb in and I’ll take you home, Sugar. You too, Kate.”
She hesitated. Should she trust this stranger? What did he expect in return for helping her? “Come on, hop in,” Sugar said. “Joe’s a nice guy.”
Kate decided to take a chance, figuring she could jump out and run if she needed to. “Why did you help me today?” she asked as the carriage started to move.
“You want to hear my story?” he asked. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his long legs, getting comfortable. “I grew up in the streets, just like you girls. I know what it’s like to end up in jail and have no one to help you out. The judge doesn’t care one bit that you don’t understand what’s going on or how to defend yourself. He just wants to see people like us locked away for good so he can clean up the streets of Chicago. So after I figured out how to make it off the streets, and I had a good job and lots of money in my pocket, I made up my mind to come down to the Cook County Jail with my lawyer now and then and help other people get out of trouble.”
His story seemed believable to Kate. He talked and acted like he came from the rough side of town, yet he was well-dressed and riding in a fancy carriage, so he must have made it big. The driver seemed to know where Sugar lived, and he dropped her off first. “Where to next, Mr. Joseph?” the driver asked.
Joe turned to Kate. “Listen, I know we’re strangers, and I can understand why you’d be unwilling to trust me. But you look as though you’ve been down on your luck. And—no offense—you could use a bath. If you’re willing, I’d be happy to take you to my house and let my housekeeper take care of you. I’m off to work, so I won’t even be home. But if you’d rather not do that, tell me where you’d like to go, and my driver will take you there.”
The offer seemed too good to refuse. Kate was tired and hungry and filthy, like Joe said. She decided to take a chance. “I guess I’ll take you up on your offer. But I can’t pay you back for all your help or—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a little laugh. “I enjoy helping beautiful young girls like you.” Something about the way he said it made Kate wary. But she was too exhausted and too worried about going back to jail to question it. True to his word, Joe took her to his house in a very nice part of town and introduced her to his housekeeper, Mrs. Stevens. Then he left again. Mrs. Stevens looked too small and plump to win a wrestling match against Kate and take her captive, so after checking three or four ways to escape, Kate submitted to a warm bath and a hot meal. Her hair hadn’t felt so clean and shiny in a long time, and she left it unpinned, falling around her shoulders.
“Mr. Joseph won’t be home for several hours,” Mrs. Stevens said afterward. “You look as though you could use a nap.” Kate was exhausted after barely sleeping all night, so she curled up on the sofa in the parlor, close to the front door in case she needed to run. The house was on a side street, far from the noise of traffic. The only sound was the clock ticking on the mantel. Kate felt safe and warm, and it was such a new feeling to her, she closed her eyes and fell sound asleep.
She awoke to the sound of a key turning in the front door lock. Kate scrambled to her feet, ready to run. Mr. Joe stood in the foyer with an armful of parcels. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, these are for you,” he said, holding them out to her. “It looked as though you could use some new clothes, so I had one of my employees run out and buy you some. I hope you aren’t offended.”
“Thanks,” she said as she took the parcels from him. Her heart still felt like it was beating in her throat.
“Show her where she can change, Mrs. Stevens.” Kate followed her to the tiled room where she had taken her bath and quickly changed into the skirt and shirtwaist Mr. Joe had bought her. He had even included a pretty little chemise, a petticoat, and frilly bloomers. And shoes. Kate had never owned such fine clothes in her life. She looked at herself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the girl she saw. The change frightened her. This was all too much. She needed to get out of here. Now. She hurried out of the room and back down the hallway to the front door. Mr. Joe was sitting in the parlor reading a newspaper, and he rose to his feet when he saw her.
“Stunning!” he breathed. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Something about the way he looked at her made Kate’s heart beat so fast she feared it might burst. She reached for the front door handle and turned the knob. It opened. “Thanks for the clothes and for all your help, Mr. Joe. I-I’ll be glad to try and pay you back when I can, but I need to go now.”
“I understand. I would be frightened, too, if I were you and a stranger was doing all these
nice things for me. But you don’t need to be afraid, Kate. You’re free to leave, if you’d like, and I’ll even drive you any place you’d like to go. Just tell me where you live.” Kate didn’t know what to say. She looked down at her feet and the brand-new leather shoes Joe had given her. “Oh, Kate,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling that you don’t have a place to live—am I right? I’ve been where you are. Listen, I have a lady friend you can stay with for a few days until you’re on your feet again. May I drive you to her house? If it doesn’t suit you, you can always leave again.”
“I guess so,” Kate said with a shrug. It was getting dark and cold outside, and she certainly couldn’t stay here with Joe.
“Good. Let’s go.” He led her out front where his carriage was still parked. Kate shivered in the cold. Mrs. Stevens had taken her jacket away with her other clothes. “You’re cold,” Joe said. “I should have thought to buy you a shawl. Maybe my friend has one you can borrow.” They drove through the central part of Chicago on Lakeshore Drive to a very nice neighborhood a few blocks from the lake. “You know where you are, right?” Joe asked. “See? I’m not taking you anyplace strange.” They halted in front of a stately, three-story brick house. Lights glowed softly from behind the curtains. A burly man in a uniform stood near the door, like the men who guarded the doors outside fancy downtown hotels. He opened the door for them and tipped his hat.
“Evening, Mr. Joseph.”
Inside, the house was gloomy and spooky-looking, with dark, swirly wallpaper and dim lights. A grand staircase led to the second floor, and on either side of the entry was a sitting room with more dark wallpaper, velvet drapes on the windows, and plenty of plush sofas and chairs scattered around. Joe led her into one of the parlors where three well-dressed men sat with drinks in their hands. The way they looked her over from head to toe sent a chill down her spine. She needed to run.
“I-I don’t like it here, Mr. Joe. I’ll be leaving now.” She retraced her steps to the foyer and found the guard from outside blocking the front door. “Get out of my way,” she said. She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her and clapped his hand over her mouth. Kate kicked and fought with all her strength, but he was much too strong for her. He carried her up the stairs to another dimly lit parlor on the second floor. This one was filled with women wearing nothing but their undergarments.