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Back A Man of Honor
Chapters (71)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Part Two
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Part Three
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Part Five
  61. Fifty-Four
  62. Fifty-Five
  63. Fifty-Six
  64. Fifty-Seven
  65. Fifty-Eight
  66. Fifty-Nine
  67. Sixty
  68. Sixty-One
  69. Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

To Patrick’s surprise, Blackie was somewhat quiet on the tram going back to Upper Armley. Usually talkative, exceedingly so at times, he had lapsed into silence for a while, and as the tram rolled on he appeared to fall down into himself. There was a thoughtful expression on his face. Silence reigned.

Patrick settled back in the seat, reached into his jacket pocket and took out a folded piece of newspaper. He began to read it, seeking information about York races. It was the Racing Form, and he studied it every day. Too late now to place a bet on a horse, nonetheless, he read on, mentally checking off the good horses from the list. He loved horses and the racetrack.

Blackie was filled with thoughts of Leeds, the city, its people and the extraordinary buildings he had seen. They were powerful, and, to him, stunningly beautiful. He couldn’t wait to come back another day and study them at his leisure. But that would have to be next Saturday. A thought suddenly struck him, and he swung his dark head to look at his uncle. He asked, “Is the shop usually open on Saturday? I mean the workshop.”

Patrick glanced at his nephew, shook his head. “No, I think the men deserve to have a rest on Saturdays and Sundays. They usually have things to attend to at home. Anyway, I certainly get caught up on chores, and I want a rest away from the toil myself.” His focus remained on Blackie. “Why did you want to know?”

“Because I was thinking I need to come back to Leeds as soon as possible. I’m sure there’s a lot more to see, and I swear on the heads of the Blessed Saints that it is the city of my dreams. Sure and it is, Uncle Pat.”

“I’ve no doubt, lad,” Patrick said. “And there are many more buildings to see, and shops, and I’m certain you want to make another visit to the covered market.”

“Oh, I do, I do, and thank you for the treat, Uncle. I loved the cockles and mussels. I think that stall will become a favorite of mine. I never thought you could have so many stalls under one roof, selling so many different things.”

“I enjoy shellfish.” Patrick grinned at Blackie. “And I thought you might be getting a bit peckish, just as I was.”

“I was. I still am, a bit,” he admitted.

“No problem. We’ll soon be home,” Patrick answered.

Eileen was hovering over the pans in the small kitchen when Patrick and Blackie came walking into the little house on Town Street a short while later.

Patrick swept into the kitchen at once and gave her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. She smiled up at him, her love for him always so apparent, shining on her face.