No Ocean Too Wide

by Carrie Turansky

  How could anyone stand to live in such a mess?

  Flies crawled in the pot of burnt mush, so she threw it away and washed out the pot the best she could. She found a basket of eggs on top of the pie safe and lowered it for Daisy to see. “Do you like scrambled eggs?”

  Daisy nodded, and Katie breathed a sigh of relief. The kitchen still smelled like a rubbish bin, but at least she’d found something the little girl could eat.

  She cleared off the stove and stacked the pots and pans on the floor by the sink since there was no more room on the counter. Holding her hand over the stove, she felt the heat and breathed a prayer of thanks. She scrambled two eggs for Daisy and set her up at the table. With the little girl settled, Katie dug through the dishes in the sink, looking for a spoon. But Daisy couldn’t wait. She scooped up the eggs with her hands and shoved the food into her mouth.

  “Daisy, I’ll bring you a spoon as soon as I wash one.”

  The little girl ignored her and continued eating with her hands, smearing the food around her mouth as she gobbled up the eggs. Hadn’t anyone taught her how to use a fork and spoon?

  The sound of the wagon caught her attention, and she looked out the open window over the sink. Mr. Hoffman drove past the house, heading toward the barn. Katie watched as his son ran ahead and pulled open the barn door. Had he forgotten about her trunk and traveling bag?

  She glanced at Daisy. The little girl had finished eating and was already climbing down off her chair.

  “Come here, Daisy.” She wiped the girl’s hands and checked on the baby. The little one still slept peacefully in her crate. She took Daisy by the hand and walked out the back door.

  The sun had come out and beat down on her shoulders as she followed the dirt path past the outhouse and on toward the barn. When she stepped inside the shady barn, the scent of hay and animals greeted her. The wagon was parked in the open area in the middle, and Mr. Hoffman was unhitching the horses.

  He waved her over. “Come on, girl. Let’s lift that trunk down.”

  Katie hesitated. “Shouldn’t we take it up to the house?”

  “You’ll be staying in here, up in the loft.”

  Katie lifted her gaze and stared up at the loft. It was nothing more than an open second story filled with piles of hay. “You want me to sleep up there?”

  “That’s right.” He looked her way. “You have a problem with that?” His tone carried a subtle threat.

  She stiffened. “No sir.” What else could she say?

  “There’s no room for you in the house. We only got two bedrooms, one for me and the missus, and the other for Daisy and Daniel.” He tugged the trunk toward the tailgate of the wagon. “Be glad you’re sleepin’ out here. You won’t have to listen to the baby cryin’ all night.”

  She doubted that was the real reason she’d be sleeping in the barn loft, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. “How are we going to get the trunk up there?”

  “No need. It can stay down here.” He nodded toward the opposite end of the trunk. “Grab hold.”

  She reached for the handle. They hoisted the trunk out of the wagon, carried it across the barn, and set it down against the far wall.

  “Now I got work to do. You go back in the house and take care of things there.” He turned and strode back to the horses.

  “Mr. Hoffman, how do I get up to the loft…I mean, when it’s time for bed tonight?”

  He pointed to the far wall. “You climb up that ladder.”

  Katie gulped. She’d never liked heights, and climbing a tall ladder like that one was going to take every ounce of courage she possessed. She closed her eyes, feeling the need to pray. But her new surroundings were so strange and shocking that all she could think of was…Father, help me.

  14

  Andrew shifted in his chair and glanced up from the notes he was reviewing on children’s receiving homes in Ontario, Canada. Henry sat across from him at a writing table in the ship’s beautifully furnished library. A few other passengers relaxed in overstuffed chairs and on comfortable couches around the room, reading books and magazines or newspapers that had been brought aboard before they left Liverpool. Glass-enclosed bookshelves filled two walls, and windows looking out on the promenade deck filled another.

  Andrew tried to focus on the notes again, but the memory of his conversations with Laura rose and filled his mind. He was committed to helping her, but he wasn’t sure how best to go about it. His promise to keep Laura’s true identity a secret and not reveal her real reason for traveling to Canada put him in an awkward position with Henry.

  He glanced across the table at his friend. Perhaps there was still a way he might gain some helpful information, but he would have to be very careful. “What do you think a mother could do if she believed her children had been emigrated to Canada by mistake?”

  Henry looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “Have you heard of any instances where children were emigrated and their parents learned about it after and objected?”

  “I suppose it might happen, but it seems rather unlikely.”

  “But if it did happen, would the parent be able to regain custody and have the children returned to England?”

  Henry studied him for an uncomfortable moment. “I’m not sure. I know Dr. Barnardo was taken to court a few times by parents who wanted to reclaim their children. They were not usually successful. He had a lot of influence and quite a strong legal team. Most of those parents could not afford an extended legal battle.”

  Andrew leaned forward. “But what does the law say? Isn’t the sending organization required to have the parents’ consent before they emigrate the children?”

  “Not necessarily. If the organization believes the child’s health or safety is in danger, or the situation is not morally suitable, they have the right to remove the child from the parents’ care.”

  “But what about emigrating them? Can they send them off to Canada or Australia or wherever without the parents’ permission?”

  “Yes, from what I’ve read, I believe they can. When a child is removed from the parents’ home or the streets, the guardianship transfers from the parents to the organization. All that’s required is notification of the parents, and that can be sent after they sail. By that time it’s almost too late for the parents to do anything about it.”

  Andrew frowned at his notes. “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “Is it right for children to live in poverty and suffer neglect because of their parents’ poor choices?”

  He looked up and met Henry’s gaze. “That’s not the only reason children go into the care of the homes.”

  “True.” Henry rubbed his chin. “For some it’s a series of unfortunate events, such as loss of income, desertion by a spouse, or the illness or death of one or both of the child’s parents. If there are no remaining family members who are willing or able to care for them, the children are relinquished to a home.”

  Andrew nodded. “Those are the cases I’m thinking of—a parent who places the children in care for what he or she believes is a temporary problem, then finds out the children are sent away without warning.”

  “If the family’s issues are temporary, they have the opportunity to reclaim the children before they emigrate.”

  “But as we’ve seen,” Andrew continued, “children process through the homes at different rates. Some stay for years, others only for a few weeks before they’re assigned to an emigration party. It’s possible some children could be added to the list before their family has had sufficient time to sort out their issues and reclaim their children.”

  “I suppose that could happen, but it would be a rare case.”

  “If it happens to even one child, it’s not right. Preserving families ought to be a high priority.”

  “I agree. However, that must be balanced with doing what�
��s best for the children.”

  “Still, families who are willing and able to care for their children ought not have that right taken away without due process.”

  Henry cocked his head and studied Andrew. “You certainly sound passionate about a situation that rarely occurs.”

  He clenched his jaw and glanced away. He did feel strongly about it, and that made him even more certain he wanted to help Laura and her family…and gaining Henry’s assistance was key. But if he told Henry more about the situation, he would be breaking his promise to Laura.

  He tapped his finger on the table between them. Somehow he had to persuade Laura to trust Henry and confide in him. He had the wisdom and experience to handle the legal aspects of the case, and he would have much more influence than Andrew did at this point in his career.

  * * *

  The vibrating notes of a Scottish bagpipe rose from the far end of the deck. Laura looked up from the girls’ game of double jump rope and scanned the crowd.

  “Someone is playing a bagpipe!” An eager expression lit Jenny Crawford’s face as she turned and searched for the musician. “There he is!” She looked up at Rose and Laura. “Can we go closer to hear him play?”

  Laura exchanged a smile with Rose, then nodded. “Yes, let’s all go.”

  The girls collected their jump ropes, and Rose and Laura led them through the other passengers who had gathered in the open area of the poop deck to talk, play games, and escape the confines of their third-class cabins. They were not locked into the lower decks of the ship, but they had been told they were not allowed in the first-class lounges, salons, dining room, exercise rooms, or library. They could stroll on the promenade deck, but that was the only area they shared with the first- and second-class passengers.

  Several people had gathered in a semicircle around the piper and a young boy playing a small drum. The girls maneuvered through and soon reached the front row. The middle-aged piper’s loud notes charged the air with excitement. His cheeks puffed out, and his face turned ruddy as he blew into the mouthpiece and the bag filled with air.

  Jenny leaned toward Emma and whispered something in her ear. Emma smiled and nodded. Then Jenny grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her into the area in front of the musicians. Both girls faced the crowd, placed their hands on their waists, and bowed.

  Murmurs and smiles traveled through those who had gathered around.

  Rose touched Laura’s arm. “What are they doing?”

  “I don’t know.” But the next moment the girls began hopping from foot to foot in time to the music.

  “They’re dancing the Highland Fling!” Cecelia clapped to the music, and the other girls joined in. Soon everyone was clapping. Jenny and Emma kicked their feet, lifted one hand, and twirled around in unison, all the while tapping their toes and heels and keeping time to the piper’s tune. The girls’ skirts swished against their legs, and their hair swung around as they hopped and spun.

  Laura smiled and clapped along with the girls, her heart lifting as she watched Jenny and Emma dance with joy and abandon. Where had they learned the Highland Fling? Were their families originally from Scotland?

  The girls danced on, and when the final notes of the song faded, they grinned and bowed. The crowd applauded, and Jenny and Emma hurried back to join the other girls. Their friends circled around, laughing and praising their bravery and dancing skills.

  “That was a nice surprise.” The male voice came from behind Laura.

  She turned and lifted her hand to her heart. Andrew Frasier stood just a foot away, smiling down at her with shining brown eyes.

  “Yes, it was. I had no idea they could dance like that.”

  “I’m glad I came down when I did. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been to the Highlands or seen dancing like that.”

  “I’ve only seen it a few times myself at festivals in London.”

  He glanced around, then looked back at her. “Can you slip away for a few minutes and take a stroll on the promenade deck?”

  Laura’s breath caught, and a pleasant tingling traveled through her. She quickly stifled the feeling and scolded herself. Andrew Frasier didn’t have romantic intentions toward her. He wanted only to continue their discussion about searching for her siblings.

  She glanced at Rose. “I’m not sure. Let me speak to Miss Carson.”

  He nodded, then stepped back. “I’ll wait for you by the steps.”

  Laura approached Rose as the piper tuned up for his next song. “Would you mind watching my girls for a little while?”

  Rose searched her face. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, I’d just like to go up on deck for a few minutes.”

  Rose glanced past Laura’s shoulder. Her eyes widened for a split second before she looked at Laura again. “Are you going with Mr. Frasier?”

  She might not be able to tell Rose the full story, but at least she could be honest about this request. “Yes, he asked if I wanted to take a stroll on the promenade deck, and I’d like to accept.”

  A slight crease appeared on Rose’s forehead. “Be careful, Laura. He seems like a respectable gentleman, but you need to guard your heart and your reputation.”

  “Of course. I’m sure there’s nothing romantic about his invitation. We simply have a…common interest we want to discuss.”

  “What kind of common interest?”

  Laura clasped her hands together. She hated keeping a secret from Rose. She’d almost confessed everything the morning after the fire, but for some reason she couldn’t find the courage. “I can’t explain right now, but I promise I’ll tell you more later.”

  “All right. I’ll wait for you here or back at the cabins. Let me know when you return, and be sure it’s before tea time so I won’t worry about you.”

  Laura nodded. “Thank you.” She sent Rose a grateful smile, then crossed to meet Andrew.

  He watched her approach. “Are you free to go up?”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her hand down her skirt, and he motioned for her to precede him up the stairs. Laura took the first two steps, then glanced over her shoulder. “What brought you down to our deck?”

  “I heard the bagpipe, and I was curious to see who might be playing.” He smiled. “And it was a good excuse to come looking for you.”

  Her cheeks warmed, but she couldn’t help returning his smile. Did he like teasing her, or was he suggesting he wanted to be her friend as well as offer her legal advice? She hoped he had friendship in mind because she needed a friend almost as much as she needed a solicitor.

  When they reached the promenade deck, he opened the door for her, and they stepped outside. The afternoon sky was a brilliant blue with mounds of white clouds on the western horizon. A light breeze off the ocean cooled her face and filled her lungs with fresh, salty air.

  They walked over to the railing, and she glanced up at him. “You seemed to enjoy hearing that bagpiper. Did your family spend holidays in Scotland?”

  “My father’s brother and his family live near Aberdeen. We used to visit them often when I was a boy. But my father had a falling out with Uncle Richard. We haven’t been back to Scotland since I was fourteen.”

  “I see.” She looked out at the water, trying to think of a different topic of conversation. “Did you hear from your family before we set sail?”

  “I received a letter from my mother. She’s doing well and keeping busy with her charities and visiting friends.”

  “And your father?”

  “He doesn’t write. He could, but he simply chooses not to.” Andrew’s brow creased as he leaned on the railing. “I’m afraid my father and I are not on good terms at the moment.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked about your family.”

  “No, it’s all right. I don’t mind talking about them. In fact it’s probably good to get i
t off my chest.” He looked her way, squinting against the sunlight reflected off the water. “My father doesn’t approve of my decision to live in London and practice law. In fact we had quite a heated discussion the last time I was at Bolton.”

  “Why doesn’t he approve? You’d think he would be proud to see his son take up an honorable profession.”

  “It’s not the right choice in his mind. He would rather I stay at Bolton and learn to manage the estate. He says that’s where I belong, and I’m shirking my responsibility by running off to London and chasing after a fast life.”

  Laura pulled back, surprised her former employer would make such an unkind statement to his son. “But that’s not true. You provide important legal assistance to people and make sure their rights are protected.”

  His eyes lit up, and he searched her face with a slight smile. “I’m glad to hear you approve of my choice. I only wish my father held the same opinion.”

  “Maybe he will one day after he sees all you accomplish.”

  “Whether he changes his opinion or not, I won’t let that stop me from doing what I believe is right.”

  She smiled, her admiration for him increasing. “I’m glad to hear it. Not everyone is willing to follow the path they believe is right in spite of opposition.”

  “I respect my father and care about my family. One day, when they truly need me, I’ll return to Bolton. But for now I plan to continue my training with Henry.” He gazed out at the ocean again. “In some ways he has stepped into the role my father never wanted to take.”

  She pondered that for a moment. “It’s good you have someone like Mr. Dowd in your life.”

  Andrew nodded. “We’ve worked side by side for almost a year, traveled together, and tackled all kinds of legal work.”

  She smiled, encouraging him to continue.

  “Henry has been a great example and inspiration. He lives out his faith in practical ways every day.” Andrew smiled, then chuckled. “Do you know Henry will stop in the middle of a meeting or even out on the street to pray aloud and ask the Lord for wisdom and direction?”