“Here?” Rose turned around to peer out the same window into the side street. She saw only passers-by, moving quickly.
Finn shrugged, “I thought I saw him.”
“That would be an incredible coincidence,” she said.
“Unless he’d been watching the restaurant and saw me, and then saw you.”
He frowned, staring out the window for another moment before focusing his attention on her once again.
“Never mind. I don’t think this is a good idea, being trapped in this bookstore. On the other hand, I don’t want you heading off down the street on your own in case he follows you. Where could we go where no one will see us?”
She hadn’t expected that. Their “business” was concluded. She should ignore his dubious suspicions and leave. Instead, she found her mind casting about for a place they could go.
“The Natural History Museum?” she suggested.
“In the Back Bay? Why? What made you think of that?” he asked.
“I have no idea, but it would be quite deserted in the middle of a weekday.”
“Too far,” he said.
Rose puffed out her cheeks and blew the hair off of her forehead. What was close by?
“We’re close to Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market.”
Finn shook his head. “Only two of the busiest places in Boston.”
“All the better not to be noticed,” she pointed out.
“You’re right about that, but we won’t be able to hear each other above the din.”
She narrowed her eyes.Hear each other about what exactly?Moreover, why didn’t he think of somewhere? She tried again.
“The Old South Meeting House?” she suggested. “Not the most interesting museum in the world so perhaps not heavily attended.”
“I wasn’t asking to go sightseeing, so before you suggest the following, no to the Boston Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts, and the Music Hall, too.”
“Well, then, Finn, why don’t you—”
“Park Street Church,” he interrupted. “It’s quiet and directly around the corner.”
“Fine, we’ll—”
“You go first. I’ll watch to see if anyone follows you. Choose a pew in the balcony on the far right under one of the arched windows, and I’ll join you shortly.”
Finn spun her around by the shoulders and gave her a little shove in the direction of the store’s front door. She mumbled to herself about hard wooden pews and musty old churches, no matter how pretty. Still, she did as he asked and made her way to the church, past four towering columns and up the steep granite steps of the brick building.
Pausing at the tall double doors under the white marble lintel, Rose glanced behind her, flicking her gaze upon people walking by. No one seemed to be taking any notice of her, so she entered between the four shorter pristine columns into the cool interior.
As expected, the building was nearly empty at the odd hour, with no regular service scheduled. The church’s interior was a tad boxy and plain for her liking, but she was not there to sightsee. Taking the stairs to her right, she then walked along the length of the nave on the balcony level.
Rose sat next to the enclosed organist’s box, resting her hands on smoothly polished railing in front of her. From up there, she could see anyone coming along the central aisle. However, as the minutes went by, no one came. At least, not the man for whom she waited.
As her anxiety grew, her pulse started to race and a lump formed low in her throat, nearly choking her. Wiping her moist gloved palms back and forth on the polished railing for the umpteenth time, she realized this unfortunate delay was all too reminiscent of waiting for Finn to return from the sea and then his never coming.
Heart pounding, Rose jumped to her feet, unable to bear the agony of waiting a moment longer — certain now that Finn wouldn’t come. She could feel it down deep in her bones. However, she refused to do anything rash, such as return to his room to find him.
Instead, she hurried home, casting worried glances over her shoulder the entire way. Blast Finn and his ridiculous theories. No one was following her, and there was no threat.
