Orphan Moon (The Orphan Moon Trilogy Book 1) by T. K. Lukas Read Free Book Online Page B

force that wracked her body, bending her forward, shaking her shoulders. Her entire body heaved as she fought to catch her breath. Leighselle covered her mouth with her black handkerchief, wiping at speckles of blood she feared marred her face.
    “My dear, are you all right?” Hughes was at her side, patting her back, then he took the handkerchief from her and dabbed at the blood that stained the corners of her mouth. “Here, sip some tea. Can I get you something else?”
    “No. No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Her shoulders rose and fell in slow motion as she took deep breaths, trying to refill her lungs.
    “Ladies who are fine do not cough blood. There’s a doctor in residence at the Menger Hotel where I keep a room. I’ll send for him.” Worry was etched in deep lines on his forehead.
    “No, please don’t trouble yourself. More tea would be lovely.” The smile she gave was weak and unconvincing.
    “You should let me send for the doctor, Leighselle. That cough concerns me.”
    “It’s too late for a doctor, Hughes.” She cupped a hand over his, her pleading eyes telling him to let go of the idea. “My doctor advised that there is nothing more to do short of easing my pain.”
    Hughes swallowed, and then took her hands in his. “Is that why you’re here, Leighselle? Did you come to see me one last time? I should have come back—”
    “I came to San Antonio to ask a favor of an old friend. Your brother told me where to find you. I didn’t want to write. I wanted to see you, to ask you face to face. I need your help, Hughes, in tracking—” Another cough even worse than the first rattled Leighselle’s emaciated body, her tiny frame seeming like it might break in two. “Please excuse my coughing. Today is the worst so far.”
    “Would sitting outside in the fresh air help?” Hughes offered her a glass of water.
    Sipping it, she nodded. “It would. Let’s take a short stroll.”
    Hughes took Leighselle by the arm and steered her outside, where the warmth of the late September’s morning sunshine hinted at an afternoon suitable for siestas. An umbrella stand that Oma kept on the front porch held a ladies parasol. Hughes opened it, carrying it over Leighselle’s head, shielding her from the rays of the Texas sun. They walked, unhurried, arm-in-arm, passing by the Spanish Mission where the Battle of the Alamo had occurred.
    As they strolled the esplanade that hugged the San Antonio River, Hughes pointed out the Menger Hotel where he kept a room. It was a conspicuous European-looking building amid Spanish Colonial architecture, thanks to a German immigrant who built the hotel next to his beer brewery.
    “What a grand building. I would very much like to tour it later,” Leighselle said, accepting the offered chair that Hughes pulled out for her.  
    Adjacent to the hotel, a cluster of tables sat under the sweeping arms of cypress trees that lined the river’s banks. Hughes pulled a chair and sat across from Leighselle. “As you wish.”  
    A man dressed in a gray morning coat with a gleaming white towel draped over one arm approached. Hughes greeted him with a smile. “Hello, Jameson. This is a dear friend of mine from New Orleans, Miss Leighselle Beauclaire. She was more like a big sister, really.”
    “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Beauclaire.” Jameson bent at the waist.
    “Enchantée.” Leighselle smiled and nodded, impressed with Jameson’s manners and French pronunciation of her name.
    “Bring us two lemonades, if you will, Jameson. A small shot of whiskey on the side for me,” Hughes requested.  
    Leighselle held up two fingers.
    “Make that two shots of whiskey, Jameson, and also send word to Doctor Schmidt that I’d like a moment with him, at his convenience.” Hughes winked at Leighselle.
    “Of course, Mr. Lévesque, right away, sir.” Jameson bent, whispering something to Hughes, while at the same time tucking a note into Hughes’s vest pocket. Then, turning