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 the lighthouse behind to face her sisters. “We’re headed for the land of opportunity.”
She didn’t know what the trip held in store, but she liked the way it had begun. The doctor had treated her—and her sisters—with dignity and respect. Bridget’s teasing comments flashed through her mind, but she quickly set them aside. Yes, Dr. Gallagher did possess startling good looks, no doubt about that. Looking at him nearly took her breath away. She would have to work on composure.
The last person he would ever find of interest was a simple farm girl away from home for the first time. Ignoring her own attraction meant her new job was going to be challenging in more ways than one.
Chapter Three
“Come in,” Flynn called at a rap on the closed door.
“Couldn’t find any of the boy’s kin around Minot’s Ledge,” a bearded sailor told him, setting down the last of the supply crates. “Inquired along the wharf, and learned he was beggin’ handouts from the passengers waitin’ in line. Villagers from nearby say he’s an orphan.”
“That goes along with his story. In which case I doubt anyone’s looking for him,” Flynn replied. “Soon as he’s on his feet, he can be my errand boy.”
“Looks mighty scrawny,” the man noted with skepticism. “Don’t know how much work you’ll be gettin’ out of ’im.”
“You’d be scrawny, too, if you’d never had a mother to put meals on the table.”
“I’m supposin’ you’re right about that, doc. My dear ma, God rest her soul, set out a feast every noon and evenin’. Miss her cooking somethin’ fierce, I do.”
Flynn thanked him for searching, and the man went back to his tasks.
Before Sean awoke, Flynn washed the boy’s grimy face, hands and bony arms. For sure, the lad needed a good scrubbing, so he did the best he could. After removing his ill-fitting shoes and seeing Sean’s dirty blistered feet, he got more clean water and soap, scrubbed, then treated and bandaged both.
It was obvious this boy had gone without proper clothing and food for some time. Bones protruded at his wrists and ankles, and his ribs stood out in sharp relief. What was wrong with the world that children starved in the streets? The signs of such clear poverty made him feel shame at the thought of his own life of wealth and privilege.
He thought of the petite little miss he’d hired as his assistant. He was used to ladies who never mussed their elegant dresses and who always had every hair in place. They were at home in drawing rooms and shone seated at elegantly appointed dining tables.
Maeve Murphy, on the other hand, he could picture running barefoot across a meadow or gathering flowers and wearing them in her hair. She was natural. Unaffected.
And he had no business thinking about her. He had no room in his life for complications, not even a beautiful, obviously compassionate and capable distraction.
Sean opened his eyes and blinked. “Am I dead?”
“You’re not dead, laddie. You’re stitched up and in my dispensary aboard the Annie McGee. You’ll be good as new in a few days.”
The boy’s face blanched even paler, and he raised his head off the pillow. “What of me brothers? Am I at sea all alone?”
“I sent someone to search, but he didn’t turn up any brothers.”
“Gavin and Emmett are surely worried by now.” Tears glistened in his eyes.
“I suspect you were planning to board the ship without paying passage.” He raised a brow. “Am I correct?”
Sean gave him a sheepish nod.
“It’s also my guess that your brothers found their way aboard. That both of them were nowhere to be found on the wharf is a good indication. Did you arrange a meeting place, the three of you?”
“Aye. On the foredeck at sundown.”
“I shall be there on your behalf.”
The boy’s expression turned to one of terror. “Will they be thrown overboard? I heard sharks follow the ships.”
“No one will be throwing children overboard,” Flynn assured him. “And this isn’t one of the coffin ships of years past.”
Flynn himself had lobbied for legislation to put an end to the overcrowded and filthy, disease-infested vessels. Now there were passenger limits and a doctor aboard each ship. He was putting in his own time to see that the plan was fulfilled.
“Lie down and rest now. I’m going to get you something to eat so you can build up your strength.”
“I have no way to be payin’ you for tendin’ my leg,” Sean said in a thick voice. “Or for food.”
Flynn got a knot in his chest. It took him a moment to speak, so he busied himself rolling a clean length of bandage. “If not for my fool assistant, you wouldn’t have been injured, so the responsibility lies with me. You owe me nothing.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep you in me prayers, I will.”
Flynn covered him with a blanket and at last met his brown eyes. Young as he was, those eyes had seen the worst side of life and known more misery than any child should. His mention of prayer caught Flynn off guard. Perhaps the lad had more sway with the Lord of heaven than he. He hoped so, for the boy’s sake. “You’re welcome. Now sleep.”
* * *
Bridget had gone off to meet with Mr. Atwater and acquaint herself with the family, so while Nora made up their bunks, Maeve headed up to locate the line for their daily allotment of food.
The topsails snapped in the wind that had swiftly carried the Annie McGee out to the ocean. The sharp cliffs of her homeland were still visible, and the sky was vivid blue. She paused at the rail to gaze out over the water and have another look at the receding cliffs. From here they all looked the same, so spotting Castleville was hopeless.
Was anyone she knew back home watching the ocean and seeing this ship on the horizon? She had spotted vessels many times, never dreaming she’d ever be aboard one.
The sun’s reflection on the water nearly blinded her. She blinked and refocused on the person beside her.
The tall woman wore a flounced dress and matching capelike jacket, with six inches of lace at her wrists. Requirements for boarding had specified no crinolines or hoops, so her layered skirts hung shapelessly and a little too long on the deck.
Maeve’s plain brown dress was far more practical, though poverty had driven her choice, not fashion or even practicality. The woman’s dark auburn hair was parted in the middle and severely drawn back. She stood gazing at the horizon, and appeared to be a few years older than Maeve’s mother had