No Ocean Too Wide

by Carrie Turansky

“You’re teaching them much more than how to play shuffleboard.”

  That sparked her interest, and she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “They’re learning important life skills.”

  “From playing shuffleboard?”

  “Yes. Learning how to play by the rules and encourage others, whether they’re winning or losing, are important skills that will help them in their new lives in Canada.”

  “I suppose so.” She looked down again.

  “Miss Hopkins, your girls are truly blessed to have your guidance and care.”

  She slowly lifted her head. “You mean that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She lowered her voice. “You’re not angry with me?”

  “Angry? Why would I be angry?”

  “Because of the way I left our conversation the other night.”

  “I understand that you’re under a great deal of pressure to find the best path forward to help your family. That can’t be easy.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Well then, let’s see what we can do to help you get your bearings and find that path.”

  She sent him a questioning look.

  He leaned closer. “Henry is going to invite Miss Carson to join us for dinner tonight.”

  Her eyes widened before she quickly schooled her expression. “He is?”

  He nodded. “And I was thinking she might be more comfortable if you’d agree to join us as well.”

  She stared at him. “You want me to join you in the first-class dining room?”

  “Yes. I believe it will help Miss Carson enjoy the evening to have you by her side, and it will also give you the opportunity to become acquainted with Henry and judge his character for yourself. Then you can decide when you’re ready to confide in him.”

  She peered out to sea for a few seconds, obviously contemplating his offer. Finally, she looked back at him. “Thank you for your invitation, but I don’t think we can both leave the girls on their own.”

  “Henry has already thought of that, and he plans to make arrangements for someone to watch over them.”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Well, if Miss Carson agrees to the plan, then I’d be happy to join you for dinner.”

  His chest expanded, and he sent her a smile. “Excellent.”

  She hesitated and looked up at him. “Have you told Mr. Dowd any more about my situation?”

  “No. I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it.”

  “Thank you. I’m relieved to hear it.”

  He lowered his voice and smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  * * *

  Laura made her way down the long corridor toward the first-class dining room with Rose by her side. They entered the lobby where several passengers waited to be seated for dinner. Her stomach tightened, and she ran her hand down the skirt of her light blue day dress. It was the best dress she had, one that would be appropriate to wear on Sunday for church, but it couldn’t compare to the lace and beaded evening gowns the other women were wearing.

  She turned to Rose and lowered her voice. “All these women look so elegant.”

  Rose studied the nearest group of women. “Don’t worry. Just hold your head up high and smile. That’s what my mum always used to say.”

  “Good evening, Miss Carson, Miss Hopkins.” Henry approached, dressed for dinner in white tie and offering them a confident smile. “We’re so glad you could join us.”

  Rose nodded. “Thank you. It was kind of you to invite us.”

  Henry offered his arm to Rose, and she accepted it with a pleased smile.

  Andrew turned to Laura. “Shall we go in?” He offered her his arm.

  “Yes.” A thrill raced through Laura as she slipped her hand through Andrew’s arm and they walked into the first-class dining room together.

  Laura could barely contain her delight as she looked around the large, beautiful room and waited to be seated. The walls were covered with wooden paneling, painted white and topped with scrollwork. The tables were set with crisp white tablecloths and napkins, elegant white china, and sparkling silverware. Dark green velvet chairs were arranged around the tables, and blue patterned tiles covered the floors. The most surprising feature was the leaded-glass windows that were lit from behind, giving the impression they were dining at a restaurant on shore rather than at sea.

  One of the waiters showed them to their table and seated Rose. Andrew pulled out the chair for Laura, and she sat across from Rose. Henry took the seat next to Rose, and Andrew sat on Laura’s left. The waiter placed their napkins on their laps as he welcomed them and told them the menu for the evening.

  Rose looked across the table at Laura and sent her a secretive smile. She was obviously as delighted as Laura with their surroundings and company.

  Laura glanced at the two empty places at their table. “Will someone else be joining us?”

  “Usually Dr. and Mrs. Charles dine with us, but they have other plans this evening.” Henry exchanged a look with Andrew that seemed to convey some hidden message. Had the men arranged for just the four of them to dine together tonight?

  Laura sent Rose a questioning glance. Her friend smiled and looked down at her plate.

  The waiter approached with their first course and set a small plate in front of Laura. “Canapés a l’Amiral.”

  She looked down at the open half shell with a small mound of something in the center. She had no idea what it might be, but she was relieved to see a small silver spoon beside the shell. At least she knew which piece of glittering silverware to use.

  Henry looked around the group. “Will you join me in a blessing?”

  They all bowed their heads.

  “Father, we thank You for this evening and the opportunity to dine with friends. We’re grateful for this food and receive it with thanksgiving, knowing all good things come from You. We ask You to guide our conversation and give us a meaningful time together. We pray these things in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

  Rose looked up and beamed a smile at Henry. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

  Henry lifted his spoon and grinned. “Bon appétit!”

  Laura tried a small bite of her canapé and discovered it was a creamy shrimp mixture with other ingredients she couldn’t name. Soon the waiter returned and offered them a choice of a clear consommé or a cream of barley soup as their next course. She chose the consommé and found it was delicious.

  Henry turned to Rose. “Miss Carson, I’d be interested to hear how you became an emigration escort.”

  “All right, I’d be happy to tell you.” Rose set her soupspoon aside. “I was raised by very loving parents in London, but when I was eleven, our home caught fire. My father carried me out and returned for my mother, but…they both perished in the fire.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Henry appeared genuinely grieved by Rose’s words.

  “Thank you. I still miss them, but I’m grateful for those eleven years we had together. They gave me a firm foundation of faith and love, and that has made all the difference in my life.”

  Henry’s smile returned, encouraging Rose to continue.

  “After that, I went to live with my grandfather, but he was quite elderly and passed away a year later. I had no other relatives nearby, so I was taken into the Moorefield Home for Children.” Her expression dimmed, and her eyes clouded. “Life was very different there.”

  “In what ways?” Henry asked.

  “There were more than two hundred girls at Moorefield between the ages of six and eighteen. They have very strict rules and a small staff to carry out all the duties at the home. That did not leave much time for personal interaction.”

  Andrew was so engaged, listening to Rose’s story, he seemed to have forgotten about his soup. Laura’s heart grew
heavy as she listened to Rose. Why hadn’t she asked her friend about her family or childhood before? The answer was obvious. She’d been focused on her own troubles and was more concerned about protecting her secret than showing her friend the kindness and consideration she deserved. She must do better, and she would.

  “When I was eighteen,” Rose continued, “the matron gave me the option of leaving Moorefield or staying on as a teacher. It was a difficult decision, but after praying and waiting on the Lord, I felt I should stay and try to make a difference for the girls. So I worked at Moorefield for seven years.

  “Two years ago, I decided it was time for a change. I learned about the opening at Hughes Children’s Home and applied for the position. And I’ve been there ever since, helping the girls prepare for their new lives in Canada and sometimes escorting them on the voyage.”

  Andrew asked, “How many times have you been to Canada?”

  “This will be my fourth trip.” She smiled. “And I must say, it has been the most adventurous.”

  Henry smiled. “It sounds as though you’ve found your calling, working with the girls.”

  “I believe I have. Many of them come from a situation similar to mine. And I know how frightening it is to be on your own and wish someone would treat you kindly and care what happens to you.”

  Laura’s throat tightened. That must be how her sisters and brother felt as they were taken into the children’s homes and then sent off to Canada. They probably had no idea she’d been searching for them in London and Liverpool and was following them to Canada.

  Henry’s steady gaze rested on Rose. “I admire the way you’ve taken those lessons from the past and are using them to help others.”

  Rose’s cheeks flushed. “That’s my hope and consolation…that I can be used to give my girls courage and strength to flourish with their new families.”

  The waiter returned and removed their soup bowls.

  Henry thanked him and turned to Rose again. “Have you had the opportunity to visit any of the girls who were placed from your previous trips?”

  “Yes, I was able to see three of the girls who were living close to Belleville.”

  “And were you pleased with their situations?”

  She hesitated. “Two of the girls were doing well. They seemed happy and settled. But the third girl was ill, and the family didn’t seem to be offering her good care. I spoke to her and realized it was not a good placement, so I removed her from that family and took her back to the receiving home in Belleville.”

  Laura clutched her napkin under the table, wishing she could ask more about the situation. She was surprised but thankful that Rose had the authority to remove the girl.

  The waiter arrived and placed another plate in front of Laura. “Your salad, madam.” Then he served the others.

  “My, this looks delicious.” Rose lifted her salad fork.

  Laura carefully located her own salad fork and took a bite of the tender asparagus and greens. There was a small serving of sliced meat on the side. It looked like beef, but when she took a bite, it tasted like dark chicken. “What kind of meat is this?”

  Andrew grinned. “I believe it’s squab.”

  Laura blinked. “Squab?”

  Henry leaned forward and whispered, “That’s pigeon.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. She lifted her napkin to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve fed many pigeons in the park, but I’ve never eaten one.”

  Although Laura pressed her lips together, soon her laughter escaped as well, and the men joined in. “It’s actually very tasty,” she said when she caught her breath.

  Henry finished his salad and looked across at Laura. “How did you become an escort, Miss Hopkins?”

  Laura’s breath caught, and she almost dropped her fork. “My story is not nearly as interesting as Miss Carson’s.”

  “That’s all right. You’re among friends.”

  Andrew turned toward her. “Yes, tell us your story, Miss Hopkins.” His mouth tugged up on one side, and a challenge lit his eyes. “We’d love to hear it.”

  Her face flushed, and she could hardly resist squirming in her chair. He obviously wanted her to tell Henry and Rose the truth about her family, but she wasn’t ready to do that—not yet.

  “All right.” She shifted her gaze to Henry. “I was born and raised in London by very caring parents. I am the oldest of four. I have two sisters and one brother. When I was nineteen, my father passed away from injuries he suffered in a rail accident.”

  Henry’s eyes clouded. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Laura nodded, accepting his kind words. “After that, I went into service to help support my family. First, I worked as a housemaid in London, and then I became a lady’s maid for a wealthy family…north of London.”

  Andrew cleared his throat, but she ignored him.

  “My mum became ill and I had to return to London. I’m grateful to say she has recovered and is staying with friends. I needed a new position, so when I heard about the opening at Hughes, I applied and was accepted. I only began working there a few weeks ago. This is my first trip as an escort.”

  Henry gave a thoughtful nod. “I’m impressed with your determination to help support your family.”

  “I love them very much. I would do anything in my power to assure their health and happiness.”

  The challenging light in Andrew’s eyes softened. “Devotion to family is an admirable quality.”

  “I quite agree,” Henry said.

  Rose’s gaze traveled around the table. “I’ve been so pleased to get to know Miss Hopkins on this voyage. Her kindness toward the girls has made her a favorite in their eyes as well as mine.”

  Laura ducked her head. Hearing Rose’s words of praise pricked her conscience and tugged at her heart.

  The waiter arrived and set the next course in front of her. A large helping of salmon swimming in a creamy dill sauce filled her plate. She released a shaky breath, thankful she’d been able to explain her background without telling another lie. But wasn’t leaving out the whole truth and letting someone believe that was the full story as dishonest as stating a bold lie?

  Suddenly, her appetite fled, and she didn’t think she could eat one more bite of her meal.

  Rose looked her way. “Mary, is everything all right?”

  The use of her false name felt like sandpaper rubbing across her heart, deepening her discomfort. She pushed those convicting feelings away and forced a slight smile. “Yes, everything is fine.” But when she glanced at Andrew and read the disappointment in his eyes, she knew that was far from the truth.

  * * *

  Katie knelt on the path between the rows of peas and poured a bucket of cool well water at the base of the plants. The dry ground soaked up the water in seconds, leaving a dark stain in the reddish-brown dirt. She hoped watering the peas would loosen the soil and make it easier for her to weed that row, but so far, it hadn’t helped very much.

  The sun heated her head and shoulders, and she leaned closer to the plants, trying to stay in the shade where the green vines and small white flowers curled up around the strings. She swiped her forehead, grabbed hold of the next big weed, and tugged hard. The stem broke off. She gasped and fell backward, landing in the dirt.

  “Oh, you wicked weed!” She huffed and threw the broken stem down the path.

  The sound of a horse coming up the road caught her attention. She rose to her knees and peeked through the vines. A man in a black suit and hat drove a two-wheeled open buggy past the kitchen garden. He slowed the horse to a stop in front of the house. Before he could climb down, Mr. Hoffman walked out the door and down the steps to meet him.

  The man in the carriage lifted his hat. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hoffman.”

  “Afternoon, Reverend.” Mr. Hoffman’s tone sounded cool, even a litt
le suspicious.

  “I’m just returning from the Wilsons’, and I thought I’d stop by and pay you and your wife a visit.”

  Mr. Hoffman glanced over his shoulder at the house, then looked back at the reverend. “My wife’s still feeling poorly. I can’t ask you in.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping the girl from the home would ease your wife’s burden and help her recover.”

  Mr. Hoffman rubbed his jaw. “Well, the girl is awful young, and she doesn’t know much about farm chores.”

  “Still, she must be a help to your wife in the house and with the children.”

  “I suppose.” Mr. Hoffman shook his head. “Ella’s not herself. It’s hard to know what she wants or how to please her.”

  The reverend sent him an understanding look. “Well, you must be patient with your wife and with the girl.”

  Mr. Hoffman crossed his arms and frowned toward the barn.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten the girl’s name.”

  Mr. Hoffman thought for a moment. “Katie. Her name’s Katie McAlister.”

  “Ah, yes. That’s right.” He glanced around. “May I see Katie?”

  Mr. Hoffman shook his head. “She’s helping my wife.”

  “I see.” The reverend glanced toward the house again. “We’ve placed four other home children in and around Roslin recently, three boys and one other girl. They’ve each settled in and are a good help to the family who has taken them.”

  Mr. Hoffman’s scowl deepened. “There’s always one bad apple in the bunch.”

  Katie pulled in a sharp breath and sat back. How could he say that about her? She’d worked so hard—caring for the children, cooking and cleaning, doing the laundry, and tending the garden, all while Mrs. Hoffman stayed in her room or sat on the porch doing next to nothing.

  “I’m sure she’ll learn what’s needed soon. Patience, training, and time to adjust—that’s what most home children need.”

  Mr. Hoffman grimaced as though the prospect was distasteful.

  The reverend shifted in his seat. “So…I hope we’ll see you and your family in church on Sunday.” He lowered his voice. “It might help your wife to get out of the house and see some other women.”