AFTER STARTING ANEW
Chapter Eight

November 12, 1914

“Ah-choo.”

Ruth sniffed and blew her nose with a handkerchief. Her eyes were puffy and watering and her chest was so congested that it felt like it weighed 50 pounds.

“How on earth I caught this cold is beyond me,” she said to herself. “But catch it I did. I don’t ever remember being so miserable in my whole life.”

She was resting in an upholstered rocker in her tiny parlor. The curtains were drawn and the room was dim except for the lamp on the table next to her. Around the floor in front of the chair were scattered books, magazines and a ball of yarn. On the roof, she could hear the steady patter of rain.

“I am so glad I insisted that Rose and Jack don’t come over here until I am better. That’s the last thing they need. For those children to get sick.”

She had sent a note to their house by way of her neighbor that she was ill and that they were in no uncertain terms to see her until she sent for them. Another of her neighbors had been bringing in some soup and bread for her and she had been managing to make hot tea several times a day.

“I have to be better soon. I need to get over and help Rose with the children.”

Ruth put her hand to her forehead. It felt warmer than usual, but perhaps that was because she was so bundled up against the raw weather outside. She had placed more coal in the stove, which was making the room a bit close.

“Maybe I overdid it with the stove,” she thought, fanning herself with her hand.

She looked around the tidy room and felt quite proud and satisfied at her surroundings. When she had first come to Denver, after Titanic, she had lived with Molly Brown in some rooms at the Brown Palace Hotel. Ruth stayed on there, even after Molly continued to make her frequent trips to her other home in Newport. However, life at the hotel, while convenient for awhile, had made Ruth feel as though she were living a very temporary existence. So she had looked around for someplace more permanent. With her small salary that Molly gave her, she found that she was able to rent this tiny cottage and feel a large amount of independence. She went back and forth to Molly’s House of Lions several times a week to check on the mail and confer with the housekeeper as to the condition of things. The rest of the time, she devoted to her new found friends, a sewing guild, a literary club, and of course her beloved grandbabies.

Her life was quite full, but as she glanced around the room this evening, she felt a strong pang of loneliness and her thoughts went back to a remark that Molly had made that May night in New York, two years ago.

“You might find a man, Ruth,” said Molly.

“And what would I do with a man,” had been her haughty reply on that day so long ago.

Now Ruth was wondering what would she do with a man. She thought of Jack and Rose and the wonderful relationship they shared. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, to share a meal with, and perhaps have a companion with whom to go to the movies or a concert. And someone….. No, she couldn’t allow herself to think about that. She wondered if she would ever be ready for that.

She was startled back to reality when she heard a knocking at the door. Ruth clutched her robe more tightly around her neck, wondering who could be coming to see her at this hour.

“Should I even open the door?”

But when she decided it was probably one of her neighbors, she got up and slowly made her way to the door. She flipped the switch and turned on the light in the hallway ceiling and without looking to see who might be there, opened the front door.

She blinked her eyes several times and her mouth dropped when she saw a tall and distinguished man standing on her porch. But a stranger, just the same.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but I was wondering if you knew that your cat was outside in this wretched weather.”

As he spoke, her eyes were drawn down to his arms, where he held a small wet, meowing kitten.

Ruth again pulled her robe closer around her body.

“I don’t have a kitten,” said Ruth matter of factly, holding a hanky to her dripping nose.

The man looked back down at the wet furry little thing with a disappointed expression.

“I had hoped it was yours. It seems a shame to let it stay out in this terrible weather. And it would only get wetter if I took it home with me. That doesn’t seem good for the poor creature. Perhaps, you might keep it just for tonight, and I’ll come get it in the morning.”

As Ruth looked past the man and in the gaslight reflection on the street, she could see the raining pouring down. Water was dripping off of the man at her door as well. He looked as soaked as the kitten.

“I,I suppose it could stay here tonight,” agreed Ruth uncomfortably. “I really don’t know much about animals.”

Suddenly everything started to get dark and she felt that her knees would no longer support her. She reached for the doorframe, just as everything turned black. At the same time, she felt a strong arm around her waist.

Arthur looked down at the delicate woman he held. Her eyes were shut now, but he knew he was not imagining the emerald sparks he had seen in them moments earlier. A braid of long red hair trailed over his arm as he shifted her in his arms. He looked to the side of the hallway and saw the reflection of light in what he supposed was her bedroom. As he started in that direction he glanced about the house. It was simple and uncluttered and scrupulously clean. He saw no traces of a man in the house. No overcoats, boots or cigar stubs. The place he was in appeared to be strictly a feminine domain. Just why that thought pleased him, he was not sure. But please him it did.

“Come on, kitty, in here,” he called.

The sorry little kitten followed him forlornly into the bedroom. When the woman had fainted, the tiny animal had jumped to the floor as Arthur’s arms went out to catch her.

“As soon as I get this lovely lady settled, I will deal with you,” he said, speaking as if the cat understood.

With little difficulty, he eased the woman into her bed and pulled the covers up around her shoulders. He laid his hand on her forehead and found that she was very warm and her face was flushed. But at the same time, he could not help but notice the smoothness of her skin and her flawless complexion. He thought that she looked younger than he was. Probably in her forties. Even in her unconsciousness state, he could sense an aura of understated elegance. In spite of her flushed face and red nose, she had a classic sort of beauty about her.

“I better get my thoughts on taking care of her instead of admiring her. I hope she comes to soon. Moving around suddenly with this fever must have made her a little light headed. Perhaps a cool rag on her head will provide some relief.”

Arthur rummaged in the bathroom and found a washcloth for his patient and a towel for the cat. When he had retrieved the kitten, who was hiding in the corner, he pulled a chair to the bedside and began toweling the little thing dry. His eyes, however, were on the person in the bed. He was watching for some sign that she would soon awaken.

In a few minutes the cat was warm and looking a bit more normal. He discovered a small blanket at the foot of the bed and made a cozy nest for the animal in the corner of the room.

“There. Now I know that at least one of you is all right,” he said, stroking the kitten’s head.

He moved back to the bed and gently touched one of the woman’s arms. She shivered slightly as is she were having a chill and she sighed loudly.

“Ma’am, are you awake?” he whispered, not wanting to startle her.

Again she sighed and her eyelids began to flutter.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he told himself, as he sat back down on the chair. He rubbed his face with his hands and closed his eyes for a minute.

“What’s going on? Where am I?” she thought as her eyes opened slowly and she realized that she was in her own bed. “How did I get here?”

Then she remembered. The stranger who had come to her door. He must have helped her. She looked to her right and he was there. He had removed his hat and coat and was sitting on a chair at the side of her bed. His head was down, his fingers resting on the bridge of his nose. She studied him with half open eyes, not wanting to be rude and stare. Ruth recalled that when he stood in her doorway he had appeared quite tall, perhaps over six feet. She could see now that he had short, wavy gray hair. From the looks of his complexion, it appeared that he spent a great deal of his time in the outdoors. Her eyes moved down his body and saw that he seemed fit for a man of his age. She guessed that he could be anywhere from forty five to fifty. Without warning he lifted his head and looked right at her.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly.

Ruth’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. It had suddenly occurred to her that she was alone in her house, in her bedroom with a strange man. She felt awkward. He, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease.

She looked at him again, taken aback by his handsome appearance. Her eyes were drawn to his. They were steel gray in color and on someone else they might have been ominous, but in the face of this man, they were filled only with kindness and concern.

“What happened to me?” Ruth wondered out loud.

He gave her a gentle smile and answered her question.

“You passed out. When I put you in bed, I thought you felt quite warm. I believe you have a fever. Standing on your feet was probably a bit too much for you.”

Ruth lifted her hand to her forehead and then to each cheek.

“I do feel warm. I’ve had this wretched cold for days now. I have been feeling miserable,” she admitted, lowering her eyes.

“Ma’am, do you feel uncomfortable with me here?” the stranger asked, noticing that the woman was having a hard time looking at him.

Ruth gulped, not really certain what to answer. While she hadn’t been alone with a man for years, for some reason, she did not feel threatened by his presence. It was incredible that he had read her thoughts.

“I, yes, no. I don’t know,” she sighed, feeling too sick to care.

“I should introduce myself. My name is Arthur Hall.” He put his hand out to Ruth.

“I’m Ruth Dewitt-Bukater,” putting her smaller hand in his.

He grinned at her. “That’s a mouthful.”

Ruth bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

“Tell me, Ruth? May I call you Ruth?”

She nodded.

“Do you live alone here?” he wanted to know.

“Yes. There is just me. Though my daughter and her family live a few short blocks from here. I told them not to come around right now. I don’t want to make them sick. They have three small children.”

Arthur smiled and nodded his head as he digested this interesting piece of information about Ruth. She had a family, but apparently no husband. At least not at the present time.

Ruth's head was starting to pound and she leaned back on the pillow, giving a slight moan.

“Not feeling so well again?” he asked her gently.

She shook her head from side to side.

“Have you any medicine? Some aspirin? How about if I make you some tea?” he offered with a concerned tone of voice.

“Mr. Hall, Arthur. I think perhaps I just need to sleep. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Arthur stood up, sensing that it was time for him to go. He moved the chair back against the wall.

“Are you sure?” He looked down at her, reluctant to leave her, despite her apparent discomfort at his presence.

“Yes, I think I’ll be alright. Maybe you could bring me some water.” Suddenly Ruth remembered the kitten. “Where’s that poor little cat?”

He pointed to a corner of the room, where the kitten was happily pawing the ball of yarn he had found in the living room. “Right there. I hope you don’t mind. I found that little blanket and wrapped her up. She’ll be fine until morning.”

Ruth peeked over the top of the bed covers and smiled as she saw the kitten already sound asleep in the cozy warmth of the room.

“Thank you for coming to my aid. You’ve been very kind,” whispered Ruth hoarsely.

“It was no problem Ruth. Listen, tomorrow, on my way to work, I’ll stop by and check on you and pick up the cat. How’s that?”

Ruth’s eyes traveled up to his face. He sounded so sincere. Kinder than anyone she had ever met, except for Jack.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

The lines near his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His whole face seemed to light up.

“I’ll be here around 8. I’ll take the key and let myself in, if you don’t mind. I don’t want you collapsing on me again, coming to open the door. You can trust me. I’ll just get you some water and then I’ll be on my way.”

Ruth smiled back at him and nodded her head. She was too weak to argue with him and for some insane reason that she could not explain, she trusted him.

“I wonder if he really will come back. Why would he? He has no obligation to me.”

She pondered these thoughts while Arthur was getting her water.

“Here you are,” he said, placing the glass on her bedside table. “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought a little milk for the cat.” He held up a small bowel for her to see and then put it on the floor in front of the cat. “Anything else?” he inquired cheerfully.

He swallowed nervously as she looked at him with her green eyes, bright from the fever.

“No, thank you,” she whispered. “Good night…Arthur.”

She watched as he turned and walked out of the room.

“Mr. Hall. I mean Arthur,” she began.

He stopped in the doorway and looked at her once more.

“Arthur, I do trust you. With the key and everything, I mean.”

“Good night, Ruth. See you tomorrow.”

She watched him go and listened as the door shut.

“What a strange thing to happen,” she said to herself. “Why didn’t I feel unsafe or scared? He seemed quite proper and concerned. Why is this unsettling me so much?”

Ruth plumped up the pillow behind her and reached for the switch on the lamp. As she snuggled down under the covers, she felt something pulling on the sheet.

“What is that?”

She reached her hand down in the dark and she gasped slightly as her hand came in contact with some fur.

“Of course, the kitten.”

She felt the little animal burrow down in the bedding next to her.

“What am I thinking of? Sleeping with a cat?”

And then she knew that the person she had once been would have left the poor little thing out in the rain. She was grateful now for its company, happy that she could give it refuge on this dreadful night.

“Alright, kitty. Let’s settle down and we’ll both sleep our troubles away.”

Ruth sighed and settled herself again. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But instead of darkness, all she saw was a pair of smiling steel, gray eyes.

Arthur paused at the end of Ruth’s sidewalk.

“Mrs. Dewitt-Bukater. Not an ordinary name,” he thought.

She was well spoken and dignified. There was an air of regality about her that seemed misplaced in that humble little house. At first she had seemed very distant, not cold exactly, but perhaps a bit indifferent. He thought she might have been struggling with some inner conflict.

When he had made no overt moves and had just sat quietly at her bedside, she had warmed a bit and he thought he detected a bit of sadness when he left. He noted too, that when she made a mention of her daughter and family, her eyes softened and he observed a look of pride and love.

Ruth Dewitt-Bukater had a sense of mystery about her. A mystery he would like to learn more about and perhaps even solve.

“I just went for a little walk to clear my head and found that little lost kitten. Now after meeting Ruth, I feel like I am losing my balance.”

Arthur turned and headed towards his home. He pulled the lapels of his top coat around his neck to protect himself from the cold. The rain had stopped and in the dropping temperatures, the moisture was freezing on the grass. In the reflection of the street lamps, it looked like diamond dust. Everything shone and sparkled from the recent rain. Sparkled like a pair of green eyes that he could not get out of his mind.

He glanced back at the tiny cottage and his heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll be back, Ruth. Of that you can be certain.”

Chapter Nine
Stories