The Bride Ship

“True enough,” he agreed, giving his walking stick a thoughtful twirl. “But any lady who has to cross a continent to find a husband must have something wrong with her.”

Clay scowled at him, and the fellow excused himself to find other company. Clay shook his head again, this time at his own attitude. Only yesterday, he had been equally certain that only the desperate would take advantage of Mercer’s offer. But the ladies he’d met so far challenged that theory.

Allegra’s friend Ms. Stanway was as fearless as she was fetching. Ms. Stevens, who had offered him the blanket last night, was as sweet-tempered as she was sweet-faced. Any number of these women could have found beaux even in the war-ravaged East. Why take a chance on Seattle?

“And a pleasant morning to you, Mr. Howard,” Ms. O’Rourke said as she sashayed up to him. The breeze had turned her cheeks a pleasing pink, and her brown eyes sparkled as she grinned at him, arms buried in the sleeves of her rust-colored wool cloak. “Still unengaged? Such a slacker, you are.”

She must have overhead his conversation with Reynolds. Clay chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding a gentleman to propose, if that’s what you’re after.”

She leaned against the railing. “And isn’t that what every lass is after? A nice rich lad of good family who’s kind on the eyes.”

Clay’s surprise must have been showing, for she laughed and said, “What—don’t all you gents pine for something similar? A pretty girl who will cook and bake and clean for you?” She fluttered her cinnamon-colored lashes. “Some of us have better ways to spend our time.” She pushed off the railing and all but skipped down the deck.

“You’ll find Ms. O’Rourke quite outspoken,” Ms. Stanway said in her wake. She offered Clay a smile that did not seem to warm her blue eyes, which were a few shades lighter than Allegra’s. “But she is correct. Not all of us are hoping to marry when we reach Seattle.” She nodded to two of the women who were standing farther along the railing, gazes out to sea. “The Prescott sisters worked in the cotton mills in Lowell. Those were shuttered during the war and don’t look to be opening soon.”

“So they’re seeking employment,” Clay surmised. “And what about you, Ms. Stanway? Why are you going so far from home?”

That smile remained frozen on her face. “I lost my brother and father to the war, sir. There is no home to return to. Excuse me.”

She continued past, head high, carriage serene. The ocean breeze no more than ruffled the feather on her hat. He had a feeling if she had debuted in Boston they would have dubbed her the Ice Princess. But then, they wouldn’t know the story of her losses.

He’d thought he knew Allegra’s story. She’d been born into a well-respected though slightly less affluent family than his. She’d risen to the top of Boston social circles. She’d married Frank; they’d had a child together. But though she’d lost her husband in the war, she still had a home to return to. As much as he’d fought with his family, he knew they would never require her to find a job to support her and her daughter, if for no other reason than such uncivilized behavior might harm their social standing. With a place assured her, why was she so set on Seattle?

* * *

Allie spent most of her second day aboard ship learning the routines of mealtimes, setting up her own routine with Gillian and determining how she and Maddie would share chores in their little room. Mr. Mercer also gathered his little flock and expressed his concerns for their safety.

“The eyes of the world are upon us, my dears,” he told them as he paced before them in the upper salon, the tails of his coat flapping with each step. “We must do all we can to prove we are endowed with the utmost of taste and civility.”

“He should have thought of that before he hid in the coal bin,” Maddie murmured to Allie.

Mercer must have heard her, for he clasped his hands behind his frock coat, gazed at his charges and explained. “I am certain some of you were concerned about our little contretemps leaving New York. Rest assured that matters have been resolved.”

Many of the women seemed to accept that, but Allie could not keep silent. “Then you’ve determined what became of the missing money and will reimburse those who paid twice.”

Mercer adjusted the black cravat at his throat. “As I said, madam, the matter has been resolved, and I apologize for any confusion or consternation it may have caused. Now is the time for every lady under my escort to focus on her future in Seattle.” His gaze swept them again. “And there will be no fraternizing with the officers.”

Several of the women stiffened at that, and two went so far as to argue with him.

“Mother?” Gillian asked, turning to glance up at Allie from her place in Allie’s lap. “What’s fraternizing?”

“Nothing that need concern you for a good number of years,” Allie assured her. Maddie smiled at that, but Allie couldn’t help wondering about their benefactor’s motives. She had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt concerning the tickets, but his vague assurances were not satisfying. Besides, when he had lectured in the Boston area, he’d said this trip would help the women start over after their losses in the war. If they wanted a husband and found one aboard ship, why did that concern him?

She found herself looking forward to dinner and the chance to ask Clay about the matter. Very likely it was that anticipation that set her heart beating faster when she sighted him entering the room.

Before she could question him, however, she had to take care of her daughter. She focused on cutting the slab of salty beef into smaller chunks Gillian could lift with her fork. Several of the other people were poking at the beans, mouths twisted in disgust, but Gillian sat beside Allie spooning up the brown blobs and chewing thoughtfully.

“Do you like them?” Allie couldn’t help asking.

“No, thank you,” Gillian said. “They’re icky.”

Maddie, who was seated on Gillian’s other side, shook her head. “They’re filling at least. But you’re a good girl to eat them.”

“Good girls eat everything on their plates,” Gillian said woodenly, as if repeating a lesson. “Good girls say please and thank-you.”

“Kind people say please and thank-you,” Allie replied, hurting for her daughter. “What you decide to eat has nothing to do with whether you are a good or bad person.”

Gillian frowned at her. “Then may I please have a piece of cake instead?”

Maddie laughed as she gave Gillian a hug. “Sure’n, me darling, I’d bake you one right now if we had the proper ingredients.”

“And I’d let you eat it,” Allie promised. “As it is, this seems to be the best the Continental can do. When we reach Seattle, I’ll bake you a cake myself.”

Gillian nodded and returned to her beans.

Allie nodded, as well. She’d never baked a cake before in her life, but surely Maddie or one of the other women could teach her. She hadn’t washed dishes or made beds before, either, and she was managing that. It wasn’t talent that was required but determination, and the Lord had given her plenty of that lately.

That was why she turned to Clay, who was sitting just down the table from them and looking no more pleased with the fare.

“Mr. Mercer said he had resolved the financial issues,” she told Clay. “Have you been reimbursed?”

He smiled at her, and she could not help smiling back. “Mr. Mercer hasn’t said a word to me, but your presence and Gillian’s are all the reimbursement I need.”

It was a charming thing to say, and she felt her cheeks heating. Enough of that!

“Then I can only hope to take up the matter with Mr. Holladay,” she promised Clay, “when we reach Seattle.”

He shrugged, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he thought she’d never convince the wily transportation king to part with the money or if Clay truly didn’t care. She made herself focus on the conversation around her, which, thankfully, was generally more satisfying than the food. She found it amazing how many people from all walks of life had decided to make this journey to Seattle.

Mrs. Boardman, for example, was blind, and her husband was particularly solicitous of her because, he told Allie with great joy, she was expecting their first child.

“Though it does concern me that we have only a dentist abroad for medical assistance,” Mrs. Boardman told Allie, one hand on her swelling belly.

“Ms. Stanway is a nurse,” Allie assured her. “I’m certain she’d be glad to help.”

Clay spoke up. “You may want to settle in San Francisco if a doctor’s care is important to you, ma’am. There’s only one in Seattle, and he treats natives as well as the settlers, so he tends to be busy.”

Mrs. Boardman thanked him for his advice, but Allie couldn’t help her frown. Only one doctor in the growing town? What if Gillian became ill or was injured? Would Catherine’s skills be enough to save her?

“Mortality on the frontier is notably high,” a young lady named Ms. Cropper put in as if she found the matter fascinating. “Cholera, typhus, dysentery, scalpings.”

Allie shuddered. Time to turn this conversation back to the pleasant. “New lands to discover,” she countered. “Opportunities for new friends, family.”

“Husbands,” Maddie put in with a wink.

“Employment,” Catherine added.

Others chimed in then with their plans to teach, to establish businesses. Allie caught Clay watching, a slight frown settled on his brow. Had they given him as much food for thought as he’d given them?