Cheryl St.John - The Wedding Journey

It was plain Gavin didn’t fancy sharing his business. “We been stayin’ in the back room at Ferguson’s Livery. Old Mr. Ferguson left the door unlocked ’til we was in at night. But he died, and his missus sold the livery. The new owner shooed us out, so we was sleepin’ under wagons and in back o’ the millhouse. Sean here overheard stories of America. We came up with a plan to make our way there. I’m gonna find work and Sean and Emmett can go to school.”

“Well, that sounds like a fine plan. I admire men with foresight. What happened to your parents?” Flynn asked.

“We ain’t seen our da since Emmett was a wee babe. He just up and left, he did. Ma took care of us best she could, but then she took sick an’ died.”

Flynn wasn’t surprised to hear their story. Death and hunger had been part of everyone’s story over the past several years. The plight of the Irish had been grim for anyone not born into a wealthy family. “First things first,” Flynn said. “Let’s get you bathed.”

“Why are ye and Miss Murphy so firmly set on bath takin’?” Sean asked.

“Because cleanliness is important. You should bathe and wash your hands often to prevent disease.”

“What kind o’ disease gets on yer hands?” Gavin asked.

“I’ve studied epidemiology for most of my career.”

“Epi— What?” Gavin asked.

“Germs. Bacteria. Skeptics will say something you can’t see can’t hurt you, but that’s not true. And in truth you can see germs, just not with the naked eye. In fact, I’m sure I can show you something that will convince you to wash your hands.”

“What’s that?”

“Before we get you in the tub, I want both of you to scrape under one or two fingernails, and place the dirt on a glass slide. Then I’ll show you through my microscope what is living there.”

“Living?” Sean asked, with a squeak.

Flynn grinned. “But not for long. Let’s heat water.” Instinctively, he knew his new assistant was going to be pleased when she saw the McCorkle boys clean. He looked forward to her reaction.

Chapter Five

The following morning, the Murphy sisters shared bread in their cabin before going their separate ways. Maeve arrived just as Dr. Gallagher peered out from the dispensary.

“Thank you for being punctual. I’m going to go above deck to boil water and then carry it back.”

“I could do that for you,” she offered.

“I spent the night here with Sean. I’d like a few minutes of sun and fresh air, if you don’t mind. I’ll probably eat before I return.”

“Yes, of course! Take all the time you need. How is young Sean this morning?”

“Already talking about that potato soup you promised him. The galley help will provide you with anything you need for our patients. Simply introduce yourself as my assistant. You can make a trip to the galley after I return. I won’t be long.”

He headed away from the dispensary.

Maeve found Sean awake and obviously listening for her. “Mornin’, Miss Murphy!”

“Good morning, Sean. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes’m. Didn’t much notice the ship’s sway. This ’ere cot is comfortable and the doc found me brothers.”

“He did? My sisters and I prayed for them. And for you, too.”

“Yes, he did. He made ’em take baths and then he put ’em up in his stateroom. He stayed here with me all night, he did. He told me after I eat, he will carry me to lie on his very own bunk.”

She was glad to hear that the doctor was looking out for them. It was bad enough that Maeve and her sisters had been left with no family, but at least they were adults. The McCorkle lads were little more than babies. “Are you boys alone in the world?”

“Yes’m. We’re headed to America so Gavin can work and me an’ Emmett can go to school.”

“You look well today. How are your brothers faring?”

“They’re clean for sure. An’ the doc showed us germs what was livin’ under their fingernails!”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yes’m, ’tis. You can be sure I’ll be washin’ me hands afore I eat from now on.”

“Well, it was an effective lesson, to be sure.”

A rap sounded at the door.

“I have to see to the caller,” she told Sean.

Two women stood in the corridor. The younger woman’s ebony hair had been brushed to a sheen and fashioned stylishly upon her head. She was strikingly lovely, with aristocratic cheekbones and dark winged brows over deep blue eyes. Her dress had been designed to fit her tall slender frame in the most flattering way, and she carried herself with confidence. Maeve had never laid eyes upon a more beautiful woman.

Maeve stepped back and gestured for the two to enter. Immediately, she hid her work-roughened hands behind her back and wished she’d had something nicer to wear, even though she was only coming to work. After the upbraiding she’d received the previous day, she said nothing.

The shorter woman was older, and obviously the younger one’s mother. She had the same black hair, though silver strands laced her temples and a shock of silver had been artfully drawn back from her face. Maeve had never seen a woman of her age without creases or lines in her face. Her hair and a few nearly imperceptible crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes were the only subtle clues to her age.

The older woman considered Maeve with disdain and dismissed her as though she wasn’t there. She guided the one Maeve assumed was her daughter into the dispensary.

Now Maeve was faced with a dilemma. She hadn’t intended to speak until spoken to, but she couldn’t very well let these two stand there without telling them Dr. Gallagher wasn’t in. She took a breath.

“Flynn?” the younger one called and glanced expectantly toward the back room.

Maeve released the air in her lungs. Flynn? “The doctor’s not here at the moment.” She glanced at the younger woman and then away. “He should arrive soon.”

The woman’s glance traveled from Maeve’s face and hair to her shoes and back up. She towered over Maeve by a good eight inches. She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t devise any designs for the doctor’s attentions.”

Maeve couldn’t have been more startled. No words came to her.

“Flynn’s family and mine are close. He and I are cut from the same cloth.” She let her gaze fall again, as though pointing out the world of difference in weaves of cloth.

Maeve resisted touching her skirt with a self-conscious hand.

“Our fathers have made arrangements, and Flynn and I have an understanding. So don’t imagine your undeveloped charms will hold any appeal to him when he has someone like me.”

Maeve remained speechless. What might she have said to that?

The dark-haired young woman turned her back and faced the other direction.

Perturbed at their rudeness, she tamped down growing irritation and went about her chores.

Several minutes later and not a second too soon, the doctor returned.

“It’s a pleasure to see you this morning, Kathleen. Mrs. Boyd, how are you faring?”

“I am well, thank you,” Mrs. Boyd replied.

“What brings you to the dispensary so early?”

“It’s Kathleen,” the older woman said. “She barely slept a wink last night. Her ears hurt severely.”

“Did you meet Miss Murphy?” he asked.

The two Boyd women didn’t look at Maeve.

“They only just got here,” Maeve answered. “We didn’t have an opportunity to chat.” She offered Mrs. Boyd a sweetly antagonizing smile, and immediately regretted it.

The woman’s nostrils fared.

“Miss Murphy has filled a position as my assistant. She’s as efficient and capable as they come. I can already tell she’s going to be my right hand during this voyage.”