The Wedding Journey. Cheryl St.John
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for this voyage. I’d like to hire you for the position of my assistant.”
“But…” Caught off guard, she looked up. His diligent attention was fastened on his task. “I have no formal training.”
“Experience and quick thinking are often worth more than book learning, Miss Murphy. You’ve already proven yourself more than competent.”
Maeve thought of all their neighbors and her own parents whom she’d treated and seen worsen and eventually die. Two weeks ago she hadn’t been able to save her own da. She didn’t know if she had the courage to take care of any more sick people. “I don’t know.”
The handsome doctor glanced toward Nora and Bridget as he took instruments from a small metal box and threaded a needle. “How shall I convince your sister to become my assistant?”
“May I step closer to speak with her?” Nora asked.
“Have you a weak stomach?”
“I’ll be averting my eyes, if that’s what you ask.”
He gestured for her to come forward. “Yes, come speak to her.”
Nora shot Bridget a glance and hurried to Maeve’s side, deliberately keeping her eyes averted from the surgery.
“This is a divine opportunity,” she whispered in Maeve’s ear. “Think on it. We spent nearly every last penny on tickets and have nothing left for emergencies or even lodging when we get to Boston, should our plans fall through. We tried in vain to seek positions before the ship sailed. And now this perfect opportunity is presented to you and you want to refuse it?”
“If it aids your decision,” the doctor interrupted. “I’ll secure positions for the three of you. The cook always needs help preparing meals for the crew, and only an hour ago one of the passenger families was inquiring about a governess.”
Maeve looked up into Nora’s pleading blue eyes. Her sisters needed her to agree to this. Previously they’d been turned away each time they’d sought work on the ship. They’d risked the voyage anyway, but their welfare depended on someone earning a wage.
“We accept your kind offer,” Maeve said with a surprising sense of anticipation. She prayed her abilities were enough that she would be a help. The thought of learning from a skilled physician buoyed her enthusiasm.
“Very well, then.” Within minutes, he had neatly sutured a punctured vein as well as the flesh on Sean’s leg. “Your quick thinking spared the lad’s life. He might have bled to death if you hadn’t fashioned that tourniquet.”
“I knew what to do and I did it.”
“I can finish up from here. The three of you should go get settled. Afterward, you can return and help me store the supplies. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss working arrangements once the ship is underway.”
He glanced at Nora. “Is one of you better with children than the other?”
“That would be Bridget,” Nora replied. “I’ve had more experience in a kitchen.”
“The family I spoke of are the Atwaters,” he said to Bridget. “They have three daughters with whom they need help on the voyage. Mr. Atwater believed he had a governess, but at the last moment, she disappeared with their silver spoons and the cobbler’s son. I’ll send a note of recommendation with you. You can inquire above about his present whereabouts.”
The doctor cut away the remainder of Sean’s trousers and rolled them into a ball for the rubbish bin. “And I’ll let Mr. Mathers know he can expect you in the galley tomorrow bright and early,” he said to Nora.
“We’re indebted to you, Dr. Gallagher,” she replied.
“Not at all. I’m sure you’ll each make a valuable contribution to the voyage.” He inquired about their cabin number and gave them simple directions.
Gathering their things, the sisters made their way back out to the corridor. Once the door closed behind them, Bridget grasped Maeve’s arm through her sleeve. “The angels surely blessed that man with staggering good looks.” She gave Maeve a grin. “I think he likes you.”
“What a nonsensical dreamer you are,” Maeve replied. “He was as staid and solemn as a grave digger.”
Perhaps that comparison had been thoughtless, so soon after burying their father, because Bridget got tears in her eyes. Maeve too often spoke without thinking.
Other passengers had begun boarding the ship, carrying their belongings and herding children. Nora led the way, turning a grateful smile on Maeve. “Thank you. This income sets my mind at ease.”
“Now we’ll all feel more prepared to dock in America,” Maeve assured her.
They’d been assigned a small cabin that housed twelve bunks anchored to the walls by chains. On either side of the door were lockers with padlocks. Several other women had already chosen lower bunks and stowed their things, so the sisters chose beds near each other, with Bridget above Nora and Maeve on the next top bunk. This would be the first time they’d slept in separate beds, so the closeness would be a comfort.
Quickly, they stored their clothing and the food they’d brought, so they could hurry above.
Back on deck, Bridget was first to the railing. Maeve and Nora stood on either side. A small crowd stood at the wharf, waving scarves and hats. Maeve didn’t recognize any of her countrymen, but she waved back. What a monumental moment this was. A life-changing day. To embed the scene in her memory, she took in every rich detail.
“Weigh the anchor!” came a shout, and she turned to spy a bearded man she assumed was the captain. A tingle of expectancy shimmied up her spine. She held her breath.
The anchor chain had become entangled with the cables of several fishing boats, so the moment lost momentum and her nerves jumped impatiently. At last, with much squeaking and creaking and dripping seaweed, the anchor chain was reeled in. The sound of men’s voices rose in a chant as the sailors unreefed the enormous topsails and the bleached canvas billowed against the vivid blue sky. The sails caught the wind and the ship glided into the bay.
Goose bumps rose along Maeve’s arms and the thrill of expectancy increased her heart rate.
In a matter of minutes, an expanse of water separated them from land, and the lush green coast with its majestic steplike cliffs came into view. She strained to see far enough to recognize the familiar outcroppings near her village, but of course the Murphy sisters had traveled a far piece to get to the ship, and it couldn’t be seen from here. Perhaps when they were farther out in the ocean.
Maeve glanced to find Nora’s face somber, her expression tense, as though concerned for their future. Between them, Bridget’s soft weeping caught her notice. Always sentimental, a friend to all, Bridget would miss their friends and the people of their village. Her love for their community had been tainted by that despicable Daniel McGrath leaving her brokenhearted at the altar, however. It gave Maeve a sense of satisfaction to know that Bridget was leaving him behind once and for all.
Maeve put her arm around Bridget’s shoulders and gave her a comforting hug. “’Tis a brand new start, ma milis.”
Bridget dabbed her eyes and nose with her plain white cotton handkerchief and gave her a tremulous smile. “I’m glad to start over. But I shall miss what used to be. Before Mother and Da died. Before the famine. But I know we have much to look forward to. In America we’ll solve the mystery of that letter and learn who Laird is. We’ll live in the lovely house by the ocean and plant flowers.”
Nora moved to stand on the other side of Bridget and wrapped her arm around her waist. “Don’t raise your hopes too high, just in case.”
“At the very least we can learn who that Laird fellow was to Mother,” Maeve said.
She turned from the diminishing view of their homeland as they cleared the breakers and left