Just Once Read Online Free PDF

less.”
    He lifted his hat, unmindful of the water that cascaded off the brim, and scratched his head. His thick forehead bunched like a cauliflower.
    “You aren’t plannin’ sompthin’ tricky, are you?”
    “Of course not. I pray
very
fast.”
    The good Lord knew she was becoming adept at it. She’d done nothing but pray for the past two months.
    Finally, Wheaton nodded. His jowls danced.
    “One second, no more,” he warned.
    “Thank you.” She smiled. “Is my trunk secure?”
    She might never again see the trousseau she had thrown together.
    “Everything’s ready.”
    Beneath her ruby cloak she wore an ice-blue silk gown and matching slippers fit for drawing-room wear. She wished she had worn something suitable for the street, but with the five gold pieces Mrs. Harris had sewn into the hem of her underskirt for emergencies, she could soon outfit herself more appropriately.
    Barely able to contain her excitement, Jemma sat back and dropped the window shade. Wheaton shouted to the team of horses, and a very serious jolt sent her sprawling onto the floor of the closed carriage, nearly knocking the wind out of her. Bracing her hands on the leather seat, Jemma pulled herself up and held on to the strap dangling beside the window. She drew aside the shade and was immediately hit in the face with a spray of water.
    Sputtering as the shade slapped back into place, Jemma wiped her eyes and then carefully took another peek. The carriage rumbled to a halt in front of the cathedral.
    Drawing a deep breath, Jemma waited a moment to see if Wheaton was going to climb down and open the door for her, but when nothing happened, she opened it a mere crack. As she had suggested, he remained on the box.
    The lamplight shone on St. Louis Cathedral, highlighting its imposing majesty. The church was but a stone’s throw away. All she had to do was negotiate the muddy thoroughfare. By the time Wheaton became suspicious, she would have slipped out a back door and lost herself on the dark city streets.
    Grandpa Hall would have been so very proud!
    When Wheaton belched—a loud and obnoxious rumble that made her wince—Jemma shoved the door open so fiercely that it banged against the side of the carriage. She held her breath, but the bodyguard did not comment, so she gathered up her hem, tucked her ruby cloak around her, and carefully stepped down. Holding her gown out of the mud, she headed toward the front door of the cathedral.
    You’re on your way now, gal!
    Her slippers were soaked through. One shoe was nearly sucked off by the mud before she had taken more than four steps, but her heart was singing.
    Deliverance was within her grasp.
    The heels of her shoes pounded dire warnings on the wet banquette in front of the silent, ominously dark building. In her mad dash to safety, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her when she saw a shadowy image lurking in a dark alcove. It was another cloaked figure, a woman near her own height. Afraid Wheaton might mistake the woman for her and come to see what she was about, Jemma reached out and snagged the girl as she whipped past. She dragged the struggling girl along behind her as she flung open the door to the vestibule and hurried inside.
    The one tall taper lit near the collection box sputtered as the draft eddied about the room. The heavy door swung shut with a bang. Incense permeated the air, reminding Jemma of countless masses she had attended as a child. Her unwilling companion had not yet uttered a sound, but continued to fight her tight hold.
    Jemma let go of the other girl’s wrist and, close to shedding tears of joy, she smiled. God and the saints had been listening after all. It was another miracle that standing before her now was a young woman of nearly the same age and height, with a riot of flowing ebony hair and piercing amethyst eyes shadowed with pain and worry. Here, obviously, was someone else who was desperate. Shoving back the hood of her velvet cloak, Jemma