Walking Into The Unknown (# 10 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series)

by Ginny Dye

  *****

  Carrie stared at Janie with delight. “Really? You’re serious?”

  “Do you think I would make this up?” Janie demanded, her eyes dancing with fun.

  Carrie sat back and stared at her. “Four students have signed up to go on the wagon train…” The words trailed off as she realized her dream of going to New Mexico was actually going to happen.

  Janie nodded. “Dr. Strikener posted the notice you sent him on the bulletin boards before he left for Christmas. When he returned several days ago, there were letters waiting from four students. They are thrilled for the opportunity.”

  Carrie’s eyes narrowed when she heard Janie hesitate at the end. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Janie shrugged. “It’s nothing important. I don’t want you to have too big of an opinion of yourself,” she said playfully.

  “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

  “All four students said they wanted to do anything you are a part of because they know how much they will learn,” Janie proclaimed dramatically.

  “That’s nonsense,” Carrie sputtered. “That is not true.”

  Matthew walked in the door then. “Actually, it is completely true,” he said. “You have a fan in Dr. Strikener. He seems to believe that saving the lives of hundreds in Moyamensing was a rather important thing. I hear he added a personal note to your notice. It seemed to have done the trick.”

  Carrie flushed. “I did what anyone would do.” She knew that was not true since few students had been willing to enter the poor Irish section of town during the cholera epidemic, but the only thing that mattered was how many lives had been saved. “I’m just thrilled to know we have an entire team for the trip.” She paused as she thought of her father’s question when he discovered Matthew and Janie were going. “Do they have any idea what they are getting into?”

  Janie raised a brow. “Do any of us? Learning how to deal with life as it is thrown at you is not something you can learn in a textbook or a class.”

  Carrie knew she was referring to the train crash, but that was something Janie was rarely willing to talk about. “That’s true,” she said softly. Janie had given her all the time she needed to come back to life after Robert’s murder, and had not once pushed her to talk. She would return the favor. “Tell me about them,” she invited.

  “You already know one of them,” Janie answered, her eyes dancing again. “Do you remember Carolyn Blakely?”

  “Carolyn? Of course I do!” Carrie cried. “She was the first person I met at the Homeopathic College, and she helped me in Moyamensing.” Her head spun as she envisioned the compassionate woman with salt and pepper hair that crowned soothing, light blue eyes. “She is going with us?”

  “She signed up as soon as she saw the notice,” Janie assured her. “We will be meeting her in two days.”

  Carrie shook her head. “It will be so wonderful to have her with us.” Then she hesitated.

  “You’re thinking Carolyn might be a little old for the wagon train,” Janie guessed. “She suspected you might worry. She asked me to remind you that we’re riding in the wagons, not walking behind them, and that we will have the protection of the US Army. She also asked me to remind you that your father would probably fill the wagons he bought with plenty of food and supplies.”

  Carrie laughed. “Carolyn learned quickly how to banish any doubts I had.” This time her smile was without reservation. “She will be a valuable part of the team. Who else is joining us?”

  “I don’t believe you know the other three. There is another young woman who is a first-year student from Massachusetts. Her name is Melissa Whiteside. She is young, but she worked for years with her father who is a homeopathic physician. She brings quite a bit of experience, but is looking forward to learning new things.”

  Carrie was pleased. “Who else?”

  “Randall Bremerton served in the Union Army under Dr. Strikener for the duration of the war. He, too, was disenchanted with traditional medicine. He will finish his education in another year after we return from New Mexico. He is much like you, Carrie. He functioned as a surgeon for years, but also believes in the power of homeopathy.”

  Carrie’s delight was growing. “And the fourth?”

  Janie’s smile was wider this time. “Nathan Gaffney. He had only just completed his first term when he saw the notice. When he realized who was leading the mission, he insisted on being part of it.”

  “Why?” Carrie had never heard the name Nathan Gaffney.

  “Because both his parents are alive because of your efforts in Moyamensing,” Janie explained. “You saved them from cholera. He received a scholarship to the college because he is determined to help people like you have.”

  Carrie stared at her for a long moment, her brain sifting through faces. “The Gaffneys,” she murmured. “I remember them now. They were a couple in their forties who had only been here from Ireland for a few years.” She frowned. “Their two youngest children died before I started dispensing the remedy. I don’t remember an older child.”

  “Nathan is twenty. He was working on a merchant ship during the outbreak. When he returned home, he found out what had happened. He came to the school to thank you, but found out you had not returned for the term. Dr. Strikener took an immediate liking to him and decided to give him a scholarship.” Janie smiled. “You will like him.”

  “I know I will,” Carrie replied, but her thoughts had already turned in a new direction with the talk of Moyamensing. “Were you able to secure a carriage for me so I can visit Biddy and Faith? I know we have a lot of work to do, but I won’t miss this opportunity to see them.”

  Matthew nodded. “I finalized everything for you today. I also sent Biddy and Faith a letter to let them know you are coming. I received Biddy’s response today. They can hardly wait for your visit.” He grinned. “Faith is making Irish Oatmeal cookies. Enough for you to bring some back here.”

  Carrie smiled. “How have the two of you managed to get so much done so quickly? You only left the plantation two days before I did.”

  “Superior ability,” Janie said loftily, and then laughed. “We are so excited about this trip we can hardly sleep at night. I’ve already talked to everyone joining us and secured a room for our meeting in two days. I gave Dr. Strikener the list we made of homeopathic treatments we want to take with us, and he has the contact information for Abby’s attorney so he can transfer payment.” She paused. “He said he wasn’t a bit surprised that Abby and your father were going to pay for all the medication you are taking along.”

  Carrie nodded. “I realize how fortunate we are to have the resources to take everything we need. My only concern is whether we will take enough. We have two wagons, but we also have seven people and supplies for a few months on the trail.”

  Matthew nodded. “Not to worry. Anthony has finagled a wagon from the army to carry nothing but medical supplies for the Navajo. It will all get there.”

  Carrie stared at him. “When did that happen?”

  “Anthony was in Philadelphia over Christmas with family. Mark and Catherine Jones were here, as well. They met with some old army friends who have some connections.”

  “It’s all in who you know,” Carrie murmured, pleased beyond words that everything was coming together so smoothly. She hoped it was an indication of how easily the three months on the Santa Fe Trail would go, but something inside her told her to prepare for challenges.

  *****

  Philadelphia skies were a brilliant blue, but the gray soot covering towering mounds of snow seemed to absorb every ray of the sun. Carrie gazed up and shivered under her thick layer of blankets. The sun could shine only weakly through the smoke from all the industrial chimneys that choked the air. Sidewalks were piled high with snow, while the roads were clogged with carriages and wagons fighting for the clear lanes available. Indignant voices and angry calls rose above the sound of wagon wheels on the cobblestone streets.

  “Onl
y five days,” Carrie muttered.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  Carrie glanced up at the driver who had arrived for her an hour ago, only then realizing she had spoken out loud. She was embarrassed but opted for honesty. “I said I’m only going to be in Philadelphia for five days. I have discovered that is the most I can take during the winter.”

  The driver nodded. “You’re lucky to have a way out.”

  Carrie caught the accent. “You’re Irish.” She saw the flash of anger in his eyes, but his face remained stoic. Obviously, he had been the recipient of Philadelphia’s virulent anti-Irish sentiment.

  “That I am,” he responded. “I miss the green hills of Ireland most every day.” His voice deepened with pride and something like regret.

  “It must have been so hard to leave your beautiful country,” Carrie said sympathetically.

  The driver looked back at her with surprise. “You don’t be thinking my kind be the scourge of America?” he asked.

  “I most certainly do not,” Carrie said. “Are you familiar with the Cromwell Factory in Moyamensing?”

  “Certainly, I am,” the driver responded. “Me mother has a job there. It’s been open not a year, but it has already grown.” He looked at her curiously. “How do you be knowing about the factory?”

  Carrie smiled. “I’m Carrie Borden. My parents, Thomas and Abby Cromwell, own the factory.”

  The driver grinned broadly and pulled out the sheet of paper containing the instructions to where he was taking her. “Well, I’ll be jiggered. I knew we were going to Moyamensing, but I hadn’t paid close attention to the address yet. You’re the lass going to visit my Biddy.”

  “Your Biddy?”

  The driver nodded. “My name is Angus McCormick. I am the best mate of Biddy Flannagan’s grandson.”

  “Arden!” Carrie exclaimed, vividly recalling the night the hospital had been set on fire in Moyamensing. Arden had saved her, Janie and the rest of their housemates at the time. “How is he?”

  “He’s doing more than fair,” Angus answered. “He has a job at the factory, he has a new wife, and he has a wee son born just a few months ago.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Carrie exclaimed. “And how is our Biddy?” She caught the slight hesitation before Angus answered.

  “Our Biddy is doing fair well.”

  Carrie waited for him to say more, but he was suddenly intent on the road. “What is wrong with Biddy?” she asked, leaning close to make sure she could hear over the street noise. “And don’t make up something. I can tell you’re not telling me the truth.”

  Angus sighed, navigated his way around a delivery wagon stuck in a snow bank, and then answered. “Our Biddy is old.”

  “She’s been old for a long time,” Carrie retorted, suddenly afraid of what she was going to find.

  “But she be acting old now,” Angus said sadly. “She still has the same stout heart, but her spirit seems to be failing some.”

  Carrie absorbed the words, very glad she had made the trip to Philadelphia. “Are we almost there?” she asked, though she knew they were still at least thirty minutes away. After countless trips into Moyamensing for cholera treatments, she knew the way well. “Don’t bother to answer,” she said with resignation. “I know you’ll get me there as soon as you can.”

  “That I will,” Angus promised. “And now that I know who you be, it will be a sight faster. I can promise you that.”

  Carrie tried to distract herself by planning details of the upcoming trip, but her thoughts were never far from the tiny, wrinkled woman with silvery hair, dancing blue eyes, and a heavy Irish brogue. For once, she was glad the weather was too cold for the children to be out on the streets. As much as she loved seeing all the children she had grown close to, she was more eager to get to Biddy and Faith.

  She breathed a deep sigh of relief when Angus pulled the carriage up in front of the largest home in Moyamensing. Once the center of her family’s estate, the home had been slowly swallowed by the expansion of the Irish community in Philadelphia. Biddy had made it her life’s work to make the Irish existence easier, but there was still a long way to go.

  “I’ll be waiting in the pub,” Angus promised. “There will be someone who stops by the house that you can send for me. There is always a stream of people coming to visit.” He paused. “Mostly to claim some of Faith’s famous Irish oatmeal cookies.” He shook his head. “Every Irish woman in Moyamensing makes those cookies, but Faith’s have something fair special about them. Not a person has been able to figure out her secret.”

  Carrie remained silent. Faith had made her promise to never reveal the secret before she had sent the recipe home to Annie. She had decided a plantation in Virginia was far enough separated to protect the legacy passed down from her own great-grandmother. Carrie smiled to herself as she remembered the regular smell of Faith’s cookies wafting through Cromwell Plantation. There were many that had asked for the recipe, but Annie protected it with the same ferocity Faith did.

  She waited until the carriage came to a stop before she stepped down and ran up the steps to the house. The front door flung open almost immediately.

  “Well, if you’re not a sight for sore eyes!”

  Carrie laughed and reached her arms around Faith. The elderly black woman was thirty years younger than Biddy, but the two had been best friends and housemates for more than three decades. She was almost seventy, but vibrant life still shone in her eyes.

  “I am so happy to see you!” Carrie cried.

  “Not as happy as we are to see you!” Faith exclaimed. “We were afraid you would never be back to see us.”

  Carrie sobered. “I have missed you both terribly. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

  “Hush, child,” Faith said. “The last seven months have been horrible for you. We’re just glad you’re here now.” She pulled Carrie toward the back parlor and then stopped.

  Carrie’s breath caught when she saw the sadness in Faith’s eyes. “Biddy?”

  Faith, never one to flinch from the truth, met her eyes. “I doubt our Biddy will reach her hundredth birthday, Carrie.”

  Carrie took a deep breath. Biddy was to turn one hundred in less than a month. There was a big celebration planned for the woman who was so beloved. She carried a gift for her in her bag. “Faith…” she breathed. As much as she knew she would grieve, she could only imagine the loss Faith would feel. The last year had taught her that grief.

  Faith straightened her shoulders. “There is not a one of us who lives forever. I would never willingly let go of Biddy, but I thank God every day that I’ve had so long with her.” She moved forward again. “Biddy is waiting for you, Carrie. She seems to be short on patience these days.”

  “I may be short on patience, but I’m not short on hearing. Get that girl in here right now.”

  Carrie grinned as Biddy’s demand rang through the house. The voice was a little weaker, but it was still full of life. She jogged down the hallway, remembering how slowly she had moved during her last visit when she was almost seven months pregnant with Bridget. Her steps faltered for a moment, but the lure of her friend pulled her forward. “Biddy!” She surged forward, dropped to her knees, and took the leathery hands in her own. She was appalled at how cold they were, despite the parlor’s steamy warmth.

  “Carrie,” Biddy murmured softly. She freed one of her hands and reached up to touch Carrie’s cheek. “You look well, my dear.”

  “Thanks to you,” Carrie replied. She had written Biddy a letter after her trip to Kansas, but there was so much she wanted to say in person. “There is not a day goes by that I don’t think of the letter you wrote to me after Robert’s death. There were many people who helped me get through those first terrible months, but it was your letter that brought me back to life, and that showed me the way to move forward.” She lifted Biddy’s hands to her lips and kissed them gently. “I can never thank you enough.”

  Biddy watched her closely for several long mo
ments. “You’re going to be fine, my girly. You’re welcome, but I don’t be thinking you’re done with the grieving quite yet.”

  “No,” Carrie agreed, aware of all the times grief still hit her so hard she felt it would steal her breath and life. “I’m not done, but I’m finding my way through.” She paused as she thought of all the times she still believed Robert would walk through the door, telling her his death was nothing more than a disturbing rumor. “I’m finding ways to cope, and I’m moving forward.”

  “How?” Biddy asked keenly.

  Carrie smiled, but her heart ached at the fatigue she saw etched on the old woman’s face. Her eyes still glowed with life, but the light was not nearly as bright.

  “Don’t be looking at me like that,” Biddy commanded.

  Carrie blinked, searching for what to say.

  “Did you think I would be living forever? There is only one end for every person. Your Robert was taken far too soon. I’ve been here for almost one hundred years. I’ve seen a lot of grief, but I’ve seen more than my share of joy, too. I’m ready to go, Carrie.”

  Carrie gazed into her eyes, struck by the peace she saw there. She knew there were probably hordes of people that insisted on telling Biddy she was going to be fine. She would not be one of them. “I’m going to miss you, Biddy.”

  “And I’m going to miss you,” Biddy said tenderly, her eyes glowing with appreciation. She reached up to push back a strand of Carrie’s hair. “I’ve been waiting for you, you know.”

  Carrie was speechless for several long moments. “Waiting for me?” she whispered.

  “Aye, I was waiting for you.” Biddy’s Irish brogue lilted through the room, lifted by the heat rising from the fireplace. “I didn’t want to go until I saw with me own eyes that you are going to be all right.” She smiled. “I see it now.”