New York Bride

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New York Bride Page 3

by Christine Sterling


  “What’s going on?” Shay called. She saw Etain standing by the rail quietly crying into a handkerchief. “Etain? Where’s Mariah?”

  Etain couldn’t speak. Shay called down once more. “Where’s Mariah?”

  “The lass you speak of is in steerage. It was her husband that passed.”

  “Ian?”

  Etain nodded, still too consumed to speak.

  Shay looked at Finn. “Was Ian sick?” Etain’s husband was looking after Finn in the men’s steerage.

  “He was complaining of a sore belly and the runs awful bad.”

  Shay counted three other bodies wrapped in linen sheets being tossed over. As she looked down on the scene, she said a prayer of blessing for those that were left behind.

  “Poor Etain,” Aofie whispered.

  “We must go find Mariah,” Shay said. “Find me before dinner, Finn.” She watched the young boy runoff.

  Shay headed back to the steerage to find the young child. As she walked towards the back of the compartment, she noticed many women were stretched out napping on their bunks. It was probably the only way they could really sleep; by taking advantage of the moments when no one else was using it.

  Shay rubbed her neck. She hadn’t slept well since arriving on the ship. She found the most comfortable position was to lay her head on the edge of the bed and curl her legs around the side of the bunk. Truthfully, it wasn’t comfortable at all.

  She decided she might take advantage of the next time Etain and Mariah go for a walk to catch a quick nap.

  Several women were sitting in small groups talking. She noticed a few were mending clothes, although Shay didn’t know how they could see properly in the dimmed interior.

  As she waded further in, she saw Molly laying curled on her side, rocking back and forth. Molly reached out and grabbed Shay’s arm as she walked past.

  “Help me,” Molly pleaded. “It hurts something awful, mum.” Shay noticed Molly’s bright eyes were now dull.

  “Where does it hurt?”

  “My belly.” Molly groaned, clutching her belly once more. “I feel like I'm gonna die.”

  Aofie walked up and looked over Shay's shoulder. “She dunna look right.”

  “She’s sick.” Shay leaned down towards Molly Shay could feel the perspiration dampen her palm as she laid it against Molly’s forehead. “She’s burning up.”

  Molly groaned once more.

  “Should I find a doctor?” Aofie asked.

  Shay shook her head. “There t’ain’t one down here.” Shay looked at her hand. It was covered in streaks of damp dirt. She wiped her dirty hand on her skirt, clutching the fabric to make sure all traces were removed.

  “What do you wanna do?”

  Shay looked at Aofie. “We should probably wipe her down. I’ll need a bowl of water and to check on Mariah.”

  “What about rags?”

  “I’ll tear my skirt if I need to.” She pointed to the steps. “Go and be quick.”

  Aofie ran off in search of water and Shay gave Molly’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “Dunna leave me, mum,” Molly begged, she said clutching Shay’s hand.

  “I’ll be right back. I promise.” Shay pulled her hand back and continued toward the back of the room. Mariah was laying on the bed, asleep. Shay could see that she had been crying. Bet was tucked under her arm.

  Shay pulled the threadbare sheet up over the child. A wail came from across the room. Shay saw a woman throw herself on top of the bunk, covering the child that lay on it. Since Mariah was asleep, she walked over to where the woman was wailing.

  “It’s her daughter,” Neem said. “She just passed.”

  “I am so sorry,” Shay said.

  Neem leaned over and lifted the grief-stricken woman from the bed. “Mary, we gots to wrap her up.”

  “No!” Mary cried. “She’s all I have left.”

  Neem tried to comfort the woman, but it was no use. She steered Mary away from the small body on the bunk. Several women came over with linen sheets. The child simply looked like she was asleep. Shay looked back at Mariah. She held her breath until she saw the child move under the covers.

  A commotion turned her attention back to the women standing around the deceased child. “She’s me daughter,” Mary said. “I’ll be the one to wrap her.” Mary took the linens from the woman and knelt next to the bed. Shay blinked away tears as she watched Mary brush the hair from her daughter’s forehead and place a gentle kiss on her face.

  “I’ve got some water,” Aofie said. “Oh, blast it all. Mary’s daughter died, eh?”

  Shay nodded. “Is that all you could get?” She eyed the tin cup in Aofie’s hand.

  “Aye, they had no more to spare. I’m lucky I got this.”

  Shay took the cup and walked over to Molly’s bunk. Kneeling as if in prayer, Shay tore a strip from the bottom of the sheet at the end of Molly’s bed and dunked it in the water. She noticed the water turned the dirty linen a light green.

  That’s odd, she thought, as she poured a bit more water on the rag. She wiped Molly’s forehead trying to cool her down.

  Once she was convinced that she had done all she could do for the ailing woman, Shay stood and took a quick look around. Etain had returned and was now sitting next to Mariah on the bed. Shay could see her shoulders shake as she sobbed into the child’s hair.

  Quickly leaving the dank environment, Shay took the steps two at a time until she was on the deck. She took several deep breaths to clear the stench and sorrow from her lungs.

  “You alright, Shay?” Aofie called from behind her. She quickly turned, spilling the rest of the water down the front of her skirt.

  “I’m alright,” she responded quickly.

  “You got your skirt all wet.”

  Shay shook the water droplets from the fabric. The liquid left behind a string of bright green threads. “What’s this?” Shay asked, pulling them off her skirt. She crushed the thread between her finger and thumb and watched the green smear across her skin.

  “Where did that come from?”

  Shay looked inside the cup. The same green filaments glistened along the metal. “It came from the water.” She thought for a moment. “I wonder if that is what is making everyone sick?”

  “I dunno, but we had better go get in line for supper. I missed it two nights ago and I’ve still not recovered,” Aofie said. Her stomach growled in agreement.

  Shay dismissed all thoughts of the green water and followed Aofie to the galley on the third floor. They met Finn and took their place in line. The line wasn’t as long as it had been the first week on the ship. That was probably because of the number of people who had died.

  When Finn told her today that the sailors were throwing the bodies over the railing, the reality of their conditions hit her. She knew folks had died; she just didn’t give a thought to what happened with them. It wasn’t as if they could have a burial on the boat.

  “Did you hear me, Shay?” Finn asked, tugging on her shirtsleeve.

  Shay shook her head. “No, love, I didn’t. What did you say?”

  “I said that they were having chicken in the upper dining room today.” He rubbed his belly. “I would like to have a chicken dinner.”

  “You aren’t alone in that, lad,” Aofie said.

  Shay took the cup of soup offered to her and moved down the line to get a flour cake, which Shay realized was the ship’s version of bread. Placing the cracker on top of her cup, she followed Aofie and Finn to a table at the back edge of the deck. Cara was waiting and scooted over to give her sister some room to sit down. Shay and Finn sat across from the sisters.

  “Might fine brew they are giving us today,” Cara said with a laugh. “What I would give for a real cuppa.” She dunked the flour cake inside the weak liquid and took a bite. “Still too hard,” she murmured between bites.

  Shay looked inside her cup. How they could call it soup, she didn’t know. It was a murky broth with
a few dried vegetables floating in it. Shay stirred it around and watched the dried flecks spin in the funnel. She was supposed to dunk the cake in the broth and wait for it to soften. She did that once and was disgusted by what appeared when the cake expanded in the broth. She shuddered at the thought.

  Finn had finished his soup. It didn’t take long for the young man to eat any meal; but only having two meals a day, Finn ate twice as fast to try to fill his belly. Shay pushed her cup over towards him. “Drink it, Finn. You need it more than I.”

  “I can’t do that, Shannon,” he said.

  “I promised Da we would look after each other. Drink the broth. You need to keep your strength.” Finn begrudgingly took the cup from Shay.

  Shay picked up the flour cake and knocked it against the table. The edge crumbled in a few places, but the cracker remained intact. Sighing, she flicked off the loose edges and shook it to make sure she couldn’t see any worms in the cracker.

  Seeing one she tried not to retch at the table. She put the cracker down and slid it to Finn who dropped it in his broth. She looked around at the faces of the people around her. She noticed that everyone was visibly thinner than when they arrived on the ship. She’d be surprised if half of them made it to America before starving.

  She decided if she was going to die on this voyage, she would make every moment count. Shay leaned over the table and looked at Aofie.

  “Sundown, you say?” she whispered. Aofie nodded. Shay looked at the sky. “That’s less than an hour from now.” Aofie nodded again. “I’ll be ready.”

  Chapter 4

  Shay crouched behind Aofie. “How do you know about this again?”

  “Shh,” Aofie whispered, motioning for Shay to be quiet. She turned and gave Shay a glance over her shoulder. “I became friendly with one of the kitchen staff.”

  “Friendly? Friendly how?” Shay didn’t really want to know. She was afraid that they might run into one of the sailors. Her skin crawled with what they might do to the two women if they caught them.

  “Molly was right. The nicer you are to them, the more information or special treatment you will receive.”

  “Aofie…,” she warned, but Aofie was already gone, a blur of her skirt the only signal of where she had been. Shay crouched down and peered around the corner. Aofie was looking left and then right before opening a door and waving to Shay to follow.

  Shay darted from around the corner and slid through the open door. Aofie entered the room and closed the door, locking it behind her. She pulled a seat in front of the door for good measure.

  The room was humid, as steam rose from what looked like four large copper tubs in the middle of the floor. The backs of the tubs were tall, allowing the bather to recline. Shay thought she could fall asleep in one rather easily. The walls were decorated in wood paneling that absorbed the steam, causing rivers of water to roll down to stones on the floor.

  A pile of soft towels sat on a table with an assortment of carved soaps displayed in a glass tray. A large looking glass was hung between two sconces. The light reflected off the glass and cast a golden light into the room. Shay had never seen anything so fine before.

  “We don’t have much time,” Aofie said, making quick order to remove her garments. “Toss me a soap, would you?” Shay walked over to take a bar of soap from the dresser and hand it to Aofie who was sinking into the hot water. “You better hurry up,” she said, disappearing under the water.

  Shay placed her dress on top of the towels. It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it was cleaner than what she was wearing now. She quickly undressed and put her clothes next to the tub. She wasn’t about to miss this opportunity to wash her clothes.

  She slid into the tub and hissed softly as the warm water enveloped her. When she finally emerged, she leaned against the back of the tub and sighed.

  “I’m gunna find me a wealthy man,” Aofie said, slinking back down under the water. When she emerged, she shook her head, spraying water everywhere. “I ain’t ever had a soak as nice as this one. Yes, mum, I definitely need to find me a wealthy man.”

  Shay giggled and picked up the soap giving it a sniff. It smelled citrusy with a bit of rose and lavender. “We both need to.”

  Shay plunged under the water to wet her hair and then worked the soap into her hair. Using her fingers, she removed as many knots as she could and then rinsed the soap from her hair. The water started to turn a muddy brown.

  She washed her body twice, reveling in the feeling of being clean once more. When she was done, she pulled her clothes from the floor and dunked them in the warm water. Soaping them up she scrubbed until the water was black. She would find a place to hang them to dry.

  “I shoulda thought of that. You are a clever girl.” Aofie stood and leaned over to fetch her clothes, using her bar of soap to scrub them clean.

  When they were done wringing the water from them, Shay placed hers on a small chair by the door. Aofie put hers on a small settee. It didn’t take long to get dressed.

  Shay found a brush underneath the stack of towels. Someone must have left it behind, she thought. She brushed through her dark hair until all the knots were gone and it was starting to wave down her back. No point in putting it up, as no one would see it when they returned to steerage. She handed the brush to Aofie who did the same.

  They were just about to discuss how to leave when the sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the deck.

  “I thought everyone was at dinner,” Shay hissed.

  “They should be. We ain’t been that long.” Aofie put her head against the door and listened. “Sounds like it is a group of men.”

  Shay put her hand on her chest, willing her heart to stop beating for fear the men walking by might hear it. It sounded loud in her own ears. Aofie listened for a few more seconds, waiting for the sound to pass.

  She cracked open the door and popped her head out. Turning to Shay, she said, “They’re gone, let’s go.”

  Shay gathered up her wet clothes in her arms and followed Aofie out of the bathhouse. Suddenly Aofie stopped.

  “Aroomph!” Shay groaned, running into the back of Aofie. “What did you stop for?”

  “I forgot my clothes in the bathhouse. I don’t want to leave them there. What if someone finds them. Wait here, and I’ll be right back.” Aofie scooted around Shay and disappeared back into the bathhouse.

  Shay hopped from foot to foot, nerves building in her belly. Why did she decide to follow Aofie to steal a bath? Aofie was only gone a few moments, but to Shay, it seemed like hours. She twisted nervously waiting for her friend to reappear.

  “I did a quick check to make sure we dunna leave naught behind,” Aofie said as she pulled the door closed. She turned towards Shay and Shay watched as her eyes grew large and her mouth fell open in an o.

  “What’s the matter?” Shay asked, turning around. She felt all the color drain from her face as they stood in front of the man named Mac and his two companions.

  Mac’s lips twitched in a grin and then he tried to be serious as he looked at the two women who had just emerged from the private bath.

  “A pleasure seeing you again, miss,” he said giving a mock bow. His friends, James and Lance, did the same. Mac noticed that the young women didn’t move a muscle. The red-haired woman in the back was fair to look at, but her friend was exquisite.

  When he had first seen her on the day of the launch, he couldn’t help but notice her. There was something regal in the way she carried herself. Most of the men and women on the docks were stooped from the burdens they carried, but not this lass. She stood there silently taking everything in.

  He knew she was related to the young man, Finn, who occasionally did tasks for Mac and his friends. He didn’t know how they were related.

  She was a head shorter than Mac’s own six feet four. He was sure if he pulled her into his arms, her head would nestle right under his chin. Her hair was a deep brown with red highlights that caught the light from the lamps lini
ng the deck. Her hair had a natural wave to it as it started to dry around her shoulders.

  She had bright green eyes that reminded Mac of the emerald-colored velvet he had just purchased on his latest trip to France. She had lips the color of ripe berries from the markets in London. He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she looked.

  She was dusty from traveling the first time he saw her, but now he could see that she had porcelain skin with just a few freckles across her nose. Angel kisses, his mother would call them.

  There was nothing more that Mac would like to do than kiss her freckles himself. From the moment he first saw her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, but he didn’t see her at any of the dinners or events. She must be from the second class, he thought. But what was she doing up here with the first-class passengers?

  They most definitely didn’t belong in the first-class bathing room. Their clothes were damp, and water pooled around their feet. He noticed that the one with the darker hair was barefoot as she wiggled her toes from underneath her dress.

  Mac tried to stop his lips from twitching as he watched her shift nervously.

  Mac cleared his throat. “What are you ladies doing here? You certainly don’t belong on this level dressed like that.”

  The brunette opened and shut her mouth several times. A small squeak broke out, almost like a mouse, but she still didn’t say a word.

  “I don’t think they can speak, Mac,” James offered.

  “Perhaps we just caught them by surprise?” Lance said.

  Mac looked at his friends and then back to the two women. “What should we do with them, lads?” he teased.

  The woman in the back stepped forward. “You’ll do no such thing with either of us. We have every right to be here. My mistress paid passage, just like you blokes.”

  “Aofie!” the dark-haired lady rebuked.

  “And that is the signal for us to leave. We will be on the observation deck with our brandy and cigars.” Mac watched as James and Lance continued down the deck.

 

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