“But you didn’t have it so good, did you now?”
“No-o. No, it wasn’t good,” admitted Kathleen.
“Then you did the right thing. The man you wed might be—might be just the man you’ve dreamed of.”
“I haven’t dreamed of any man,” sobbed Kathleen.
“Then you are a strange lass for sure,” responded Erma with a shake of her head.
“Madam always said no man would want me with my limp,” said Kathleen, wiping at her tears.
“Such utter nonsense!” exploded Erma. “Why, your limp is hardly more than a little tip. And with your pretty face. Why—I’ve already seen the deckhands givin’ you the eye.”
Kathleen could not believe the report. She waved the words aside with a slender hand and tried to sit up, bumping her head on the overhead planks of the cabin.
“Why did you sign up?” Kathleen asked, her hand rubbing her head.
“Told you—lost the captain at sea. There was a mix-up over money. We found we’d lost all else too. Between the two grieves, Mum couldn’t—well, she just gave up. I lost her, too. I was alone—and well—Peg—I met her at work. She sort of took me in. Talked me into joining—and here I am.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“But Peg—” began Kathleen and quickly checked her tongue. She didn’t wish to criticize Erma’s friend.
“She’s drunk,” said Erma flatly. “Don’t think she’s used to drink and she’s just overdone it a bit. She’ll come round.”
Kathleen nodded.
“Truth is, it’s all a means of bracing themselves a bit,” went on Erma.
“Bracing?” asked Kathleen.
“Oh, I know they talk big—wave their glasses and cheer—but there’s not a one of them that isn’t just a bit nervous over what she’s doing, and that’s the way it really is.”
Kathleen nodded slowly. She was beginning to understand.
Chapter Six
Preparations
In the days that followed his signing up and turning over the passage money, Donnigan had many moments of extreme doubt. There were times when he sharply berated himself and declared himself to be a silly fool to have fallen for such a ridiculous scheme.
But always when he returned to his cabin at the end of a long, tiring day, he found himself thinking of how nice it would be to be met by a warm smile, a few cheery words, and a plate filled with something hot and palatable for his supper.
It was at those moments that he could not keep himself from whispering under his breath the count of days until the ship should anchor in Boston Harbor.
He got through the haying season. He was glad for the heavy labor that sent him home so tired at the end of the day that he scarcely thought at all before he succumbed to sleep.
He had a few days of rainy weather and restless pacing. And then finally he was into the harvest season. He hoped with all his heart that nothing would happen to slow him down. But it did. More rain showers. Donnigan found them hard to endure and was almost jubilant when he heard a horse approaching and looked out his kitchen window to see Wallis tying up at the hitching rail.
Donnigan was at the door before the older man had a chance to take a step toward the house.
“C’mon in,” he called eagerly. “C’mon in.”
Wallis advanced on the house, talking as he came. The man’s usual chatter sounded good to Donnigan.
“This foul weather. Ain’t good fer man nor beast. Here I was fixin’ to have my harvest all in before thet there ship brings my lady—and then this here.”
Wallis had turned from saying “Risa” and had begun to refer to the woman as “my lady.” Donnigan smiled to himself. He hadn’t even dared to think of his ordered bride so possessively as yet. For one thing, he still didn’t know one thing about her. Not even her name. It would have been nice to have a name.
“I just got me going good—cut the west field and was hopin’ fer sun—” kept on Wallis. Donnigan paid little attention. He pushed the door shut and turned to the stove as soon as the man entered the kitchen.
“Sit yerself,” he interrupted. “I’ll put on a fresh pot.”
While they waited for the coffee to brew, they talked of farm matters.
“Thet second sow farrowed yet?” asked Wallis.
“She sure did. Got a nice litter. Six—plus a born dead. Got one runt in the bunch, but he’s doing okay,” replied Donnigan.
“Not a big litter—but a fair start,” observed Wallis.
“Yeah. It’s okay for a first one. She should do better next time.”
Wallis knew the first sow had presented a litter of seven piglets—all healthy and of good size.
“They should be good sows,” Wallis commented. “Came from good stock.”
Donnigan nodded as he poured the coffee and took the two mugs to the table.
They sipped in silence for a few minutes and then Wallis spoke again. “Heard who yer gettin’ yet?”
Donnigan shook his head.
Another silent spell.
“Must be kinda hard to wait,” observed Wallis.
Donnigan nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted at last. “A little.”
“I been doin’ a bit of fixin’,” went on Wallis to Donnigan’s surprise. “Ya know—when ya look at a place as a woman might—ya see it a little different.”
Donnigan nodded. He hadn’t even thought to look at his place through a woman’s eyes. It looked just fine to him.
“So what’re you doin’?” Donnigan asked his friend.
“Well, I put glass in thet there winda in place of the oiled paper.”
Donnigan nodded. He had always wondered why a body would bother to have a window you couldn’t see out of.
“An’ I patched the roof. Rain ain’t comin’ in at all now.”
Wallis stopped to take another long draft from the coffee cup.
“I figured how I might put up a few hooks on the wall,” went on Wallis. “Ain’t a place to hang bridles or nothin’.”
Donnigan nodded. His bridles all hung on pegs in the barn.
“Might even put up a shelf or two,” went on Wallis. “Kinda stack up the dishes and food stuff so thet they don’t need to sit on the floor.”
“Sounds good,” said Donnigan with another nod.
“Figure I’ll have it all fixed up fer her,” Wallis concluded, looking real pleased with himself.
They played a game of checkers to help pass away the long hours of the rainy day, and Donnigan fixed pancakes and pork gravy for their supper. It was dark by the time Wallis retrieved his old Willie from the barn where he had been taken out of the cold rain and fed his supper.
Donnigan hated to see his friend go. He sure hoped the sun would be shining again on the morrow.
Donnigan began to take stock of his own cabin. Though it was sturdy and basically neat for a bachelor, he soon realized that it wasn’t exactly the kind of home that would bring pleasure to a woman. He felt panicky. He didn’t know where to start or what to do to make it more homey.
He did add a few more shelves and pegs. There would undoubtedly be more things that needed to be put away and hung up after there were two people occupying the premises. Then he went a step further and divided the one big room into two smaller ones. The smaller room at the east end became a bedroom with some privacy and the larger room was the living-kitchen space. Donnigan felt proud of himself for thinking of the idea. He even cut another window into the east end so that the bedroom would have a window all its own.
It was hard getting the job done. Donnigan was back at the harvest again with the weather cooperating quite nicely. His evenings, when he would have wished to put his feet up and rest his back a bit, were spent instead working on the changes to the house.