The Wedding Journey

Pleased by the woman’s friendly manner, she warmed to her immediately. “Dr. Gallagher is a fine surgeon,” she replied. “Sean should be on his feet in no time.”

“Have you chosen a spot on deck for your evening fire yet?” the woman asked.

“Not yet.” A brisk gust of wind caught Maeve’s hair, and self-consciously, she quickly fashioned it into an unruly fat braid and tucked the end under her collar. She would find a bit of twine when she got back to the cabin.

“I’m Aideen Nolan. I’m traveling with my aunt, Mrs. Kennedy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ’tis. I’m Maeve Murphy. My sisters and I are headed for Boston—well, a small village nearby called Faith Glen, actually.”

The woman glanced at the nearby passengers. “I suggest we reserve our spaces next to one another. That way we’ll be assured that at least one of our nearby supper companions will be familiar. Unless, of course, you have other plans. I’m probably being presumptuous.”

Maeve gave her a bright smile. “No, we hadn’t made plans yet. I’d very much like to find a place near yours. I’m confident my sisters will be glad for friendly company, as well. I’ve already had an encounter with a rather unpleasant woman who put me in my place for speaking to her.” Maeve glanced down at her clothing. “Thought I was someone’s maid, she did.”

“I’d wager that was Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” Aideen said. She leaned near and spoke quietly. “The gentleman just ahead is her manservant. I know her from the ladies’ league in Galway.” She took a brochure from the deep pocket of her skirt and flipped it open. “This list of preparations and rules for the journey instructs us to select the areas where we will be cooking our meals for the next several weeks.” She glanced at Maeve. “Are you familiar with cooking procedures?”

“Indeed I am,” Maeve replied with a sigh. “My sisters and I have been preparing meals since we were quite young.”

“I shall be forever indebted if you will show me how.”

Maeve had suspected from her dress and speech that Aideen was well-to-do, and her admission confirmed that thinking. “I’d be happy to tutor you, but you won’t be indebted. Communities help one another, and we’re going to be a community while we’re aboard. Like a village on the sea, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, I definitely would. My aunt and I had rooms in my grandparents’ home until recently, and they always had a cook. Neither of us have ever attempted our own meals.”

“My dear da passed on, only twelve days ago, God rest his soul. My mother’s been gone ten years now. We’ve had a lot of experience at creating meals from nearly nothing.”

“Next!”

Maeve turned to accept a burlap sack and a piece of chalk from a sailor whose face was coated with smoke and soot. “Daily allotment for three,” he said. “Find yer cook spot and mark it with yer name or yer mark. Respect yer neighbor’s planks and douse yer fire promptly at eight. Next!”

Maeve accepted a surprisingly heavy bag and a square of chalk, while the man recited the same instructions to Aideen. Together the two women headed away from the line in search of the fireplaces.

Along both sides of the foredeck, sections had been marked off with jagged stripes of black paint. For the most part, the areas were all the same size. The hands had obviously counted rows of deck planks in making the partitions. Each rectangular section held a curved brick cooking pit, partially open to one side, with three iron bars on the other to confine the coals.

They stood planning their strategy, hoping to predict which spot would be most protected from wind and weather. Praying they had it right, Maeve and Aideen wrote their surnames with chalk in side-by-side plots.

Setting down the bag, Maeve looked inside and found half a pound of rice, a small slab of bacon, flour and a tin of peaches. “My sister is a better cook than I am, but these are basic foods and there’s not a lot we can do with them. We should take them to our cabins now, and we’ll prepare them side by side this evening.”

“I look forward to meeting your sisters.” Aideen gave her a grateful smile. “I hope we’ll become fast friends.”

Maeve returned below deck, where she stored the food in their locker and gave Nora the key to wear around her neck. “I met a lovely young woman, and we saved our cooking areas beside each other. You will meet her and her aunt this evening. She was delightful, she was. From a rich family, I’m certain, but she struck up a conversation and wasn’t the least pretentious.

“Wait until you see her hair, Nora. It’s dark and sleek. I didn’t see it without her bonnet, of course, but I could imagine it’s nothing like these wild ringlets.”

“She sounds very nice, indeed.” Nora had finished making their beds in her efficient and tidy manner, with corners tucked and pillows fluffed. “On the doctor’s recommendation, I met with Mr. Mathers, and he assured me of a job with his staff. The galley is surprisingly roomy and clean. I’ll learn my duties tomorrow,” she said. “The others are men, but he said there would be another woman besides myself. The chores don’t look like anything I haven’t done a thousand times.”

“I hope he gives you a chance to show what you can do and doesn’t have you washing all the dishes. The crew would miss out if you couldn’t cook for them.”

“You’re a sweet lass. Biased, of course.”

“Dr. Gallagher is expecting me back in the dispensary to help organize supplies.” Maeve located a faded apron in her bag and slipped it on over her dress. “This will have to suffice for a uniform.”

“It’s clean and adequate,” Nora assured her. She rested her hand atop Maeve’s as her sister reached into her bag for her comb. “Thank you for accepting the doctor’s offer, Maeve. I know you worry you’re unqualified for a job with so many responsibilities, but you always did your best to help Mother and Da and our neighbors in Castleville. The local women declared you the most knowledgeable and dependable midwife in all of County Beary. I’ve no doubt you will be a benefit to the doctor.”

“I’m hoping to learn from him.” Maeve braided her hair as neatly as she could manage and secured it with a length of twine. For the first time she wondered what other passengers like that Fitzwilliam woman would think of her helping the doctor. Maybe they would simply see her as his servant, and find that acceptable. Was that how the doctor saw her? She surely didn’t look forward to any more encounters like the one with Mrs. Fitzwilliam.

“The three of us will have an income…all because you so bravely went to that boy’s aid.”

“Helping him was simply instinctive,” she replied. “Not heroic.”

“Tell that to the lad who is alive, thanks to you.”

“God provided the way for us,” Maeve told her eldest sister. “He used what could have been a tragedy to find us jobs and bring the boy onboard. It will be interesting to see what develops next with Sean.”

“Only you would find the silver lining in an otherwise cloudy situation.”

Maeve stretched to her fullest height to give Nora a peck on the cheek. Nora leaned forward to accept the kiss. She took Maeve’s face between her hands and looked into her eyes. “Mother always said you were like a bright star on a dark night. Even as a wee bairn, you saw everything differently than the rest of us. ’Tis a quality I admire.”

“Nothing would get done without your practical thinking and logical planning,” Maeve reminded her. “Sometimes I wish I was more like you.”

“You’re perfect just the way you are.” She released Maeve. “Now go about your duties at the dispensary.”

Maeve turned and headed for the door. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was looking forward to something.

Chapter Four

A knock sounded on the door. Flynn looked up as Maeve Murphy opened it and peered in. She had bound her wild red hair and donned a plain coarse apron in preparation for her duties. He liked that she was efficient and punctual, adding those qualities to her quick thinking and kind manner with the boy. So far he liked everything about her.

“Come in, Miss Murphy. I’ve only just opened the first of the supply boxes.” He gestured to the wooden crates lining the wall in the rectangular room.

She walked toward him, her bright blue gaze taking in her surroundings. In the morning’s confusion he hadn’t looked her over, and he did so now. She was a tiny thing, her flaming red hair creating ringlets that framed her cheeks, while the rest had been contained in a braid. Her skin appeared as fragile as porcelain, with healthy pink cheeks and a mouth like a China doll.

If a person judged on appearance, he’d think she was nothing more than a sweetly pretty girl, and overlook her wit and courage. Not many people had the knowledge or the compassion to jump to the McCorkle boy’s aid the way she had.

She glanced with keen interest at the sturdy cabinets with chicken wire instead of glass in the doors, where only a few bottles and tins stood. “If you’ll be so good as to acquaint me with your system, I’ll store the supplies.”

“We’ll both work on it.” He led her to the other room, where Sean lay sleeping on a low cot, a blanket pulled to his chin.

“How is the laddie doing?” she asked softly.

“Very well, indeed,” he replied. She smelled good, too, like clean linen and spring heather, and his reaction startled him. He hadn’t noticed a woman in that way for a long time. He took an unconscious step away.

Her inquisitive gaze took in her surroundings, fastening on the storage cabinets and workspaces. There were no rimless surfaces in his dispensary. Everything had been designed to accommodate the normal rock and sway of the ship or even a storm. He explained his mortar and pestle for grinding roots and seeds, the scale and weights for measuring ingredients, the piece of marble on which he prepared salves, sets of measures, dosage spoons and a plaster iron. The young woman listened with interest and apparent understanding. She asked surprisingly insightful questions. He was glad now that he’d learned of Hegarty’s true nature before the ship sailed. Maeve Murphy looked to be the better choice.

He described the contents of each crate as he carried and opened it. Between each ocean voyage, he spent weeks preparing bottles of saline draughts and barley water, jars of calves’ foot jelly and plasters. He saw to it that those who fell sick on a ship he worked received the best care possible. His meager pay didn’t begin to cover the cost of medicines, but he drew from his inheritances and vast investments.

He’d left his father’s practice over the objection of his family to make a difference and to forget. He truly believed it was his calling to help people so desperate to start new lives that they risked a journey like this. Everyone he encountered had a dream of a new beginning he didn’t share. He didn’t think about his future, only about the work he had to do today.

“I wish I’d had half as many cures when my friends and neighbors were ailing,” she said wistfully. “I may have been able to save more of them.” Tears shone in her wide blue eyes as she gazed at a bottle of vitriolic acid.