A not-yet-titled novel/story

By Emaleth Summer

(AKA Nicole Peters)

Preface

Smoke filled the night sky, chasing the stars into hiding. The moon, in its phase of darkness, was not needed to see in the dark. Flames filled the small cottage, licking the roof as if teasing its meal. Shouts of glee filled the air, a song to spur on the dancing blaze. Soon, the inferno gave off sparks: children coming forth from the womb to engulf the trees surrounding the cottage. The small herb garden became food for the fire, and the mob fled the wrath of that they had wrought.

Three shadows, never noticed by the crowd, lurked in the shadows of trees several feet away. Emerald eyes glinted in the firelight, watching a home burn to the ground. Though they never shed a tear, those eyes held such sadness that even the nightlife wept in sorrow, sending up chirps, howls, and croaks into the crisp Celtic night air.

Seeing the crowd disperse, the shadows moved deeper into the night, ending a chapter of happiness and entering into an adventure of uncertain events.

*****************************************

Chapter One

The child’s long black hair waved in the breeze as she stood at the rail of the ship, her small brow furrowed in thought and worry. Though she made not a sound, an endless stream of tears fell from her emerald eyes. Staring into the watery grave, she felt lost and alone. Only one thought filled the girl’s mind: “What will I do without her?”

Without warning she heard her mother’s voice, called from memory. Even now, she was there when the girl needed her most.

“We shall go to the American Colonies,” her mother told her as they traveled barren land through a dark fog. I hear tell that the colonists are heading toward a revolution. Surely forward thinking people such as they will accept us.”

“Come, now, lass.” The girl jumped at the forgotten captain’s voice. “There’s a storm brewin’. Don’t wanna be on deck when it lets loose.”

Numbly, she gave a slight nod and allowed herself to be led below.

“Stay here with Jack,” the captain ordered before turning on his heel to return to the deck.

Left alone, the two avoided eye contact, shifting feet. Unsure of what to do, Jack finally handed the girl a blanket. She took it nodding her thanks. Finding a cozy corner between two stacks of crates, she curled under the blanket. Soon, the evening was filled with shouts above. As the floodgates opened in the heavens, they opened in her heart, and she cried herself to sleep.

“Come, Rowena” her mother’s voice called softly. After two days ride on their one remaining horse, they had finally arrived at the port. Bone weary, it was all the girl could do to stay awake while her mother pled her case to the ship’s captain. After much debate and the giving of all the money they had saved, it was finally time to board. Bundled against the cold, they took refuge below deck in the cargo hold. Among crates and barrels, they slept.

“Wake up, my dearie! ‘Tis morn! Wake, and come see the ocean. It’s beautiful!” Although roused enough to hear her mother’s voice, the girl was still too tired to move. Shaking a shoulder gently, her mother continued, “Wake up!”

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Slowly, Rowena raised her head. Confused by the dream that was memory, she slowly remembered what had happened. Fresh tears fell from her eyes, and the boy beside her hushed her urgently.

“Wake up, lass! For your own sake!”

“What-what is it? Is somethin’ the matter?”

“It’s the cap’n, lass! He’s talkin’ of keepin’ ya, just like he did me!” Although whispering, the boy seemed very distressed. “Keep quiet, and listen!”

Straining, the girl could hear the captain’s voice, along with that of another man.

“What will you do with the girl? She’s no good to ya, Cap’n. What will ya have her do? Swab the deck day and night?” The two men gave off bursts of laughter.

“I’ll put her to work with one thing or another,” the captain replied.

“It’s more trouble than she’s worth. Just throw her overboard and be done with her!”

After a more robust round of laughter, the captain found his voice. “She may not be much good to me now, but in a year or so she’ll be ripe. I’m sure I can keep her busy enough!” The men’s laughter echoed throughout the cargo hold as they made their way back to the deck.

“What are they talking about?” Rowena asked fearfully. “I don’t understand.”

“Cap’n wants to keep you on the ship. He’ll work ya hard, and I imagine worse as well.”

“What do you mean worse?”

“Are ye daft?” At her blank stare, Jack continued. “He’ll work ya to the bone all day, then take ungentlemanly advantage of your, er, girlness, at night.”

Terror crept upon her face as the situation became clear. “I can’t let that happen! You have to help me!”

“I’ll be flogged!”

“Please, help me. How long do I have before we arrive?”

“Two days, three at most. What are ya gonna do?”

“I’m gonna escape. And you, dear Jack, are going to help me.”

While the captain and crew were busy surveying possible damage from the storm, Rowena searched throughout the hold until she found her mother’s knapsack. Afraid of losing the few belongings they had, her mother had hidden it among the crates. Apparently, the captain didn’t notice it when they boarded, or simply had forgotten it. Holding it close to her, she prayed to the Goddess for strength, and began to formulate a plan.

Standing in the doorway of the captain’s cabin, Rowena looked on as he examined her mother. At last, he came out and closed the door.

“Consumption,” he said. “At least it’s not anything that’ll effect my crew.”

“Will she be alright?”

The captain walked away, not answering.

“Will she be alright!” she shouted, demanding response.

Turning around, the captain looked unfeelingly at the child. “She won’t last the night. Otherwise I wouldn’t ‘ve left her in my bed.”

Holding back tears, she went in to her ailing mother, curled up beside her, and fell asleep. When she awoke, her mother was gone.

A gently shaking brought Rowena from her reverie. Jack was letting her know the ship had dropped anchor. Nodding, but not opening her eyes, she feigned sleep. Within moments, a rough hand grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet.

“Time to go inland, lassie!” The gruff voice belonged to the first mate, a burly man with flaming red hair, and a beard that might have been nest to hoards of ungodly creatures.

Grabbing her knapsack, she followed him to the deck. She was helped down a rope ladder to a small boat that would take them to shore. Already aboard were Jack and the captain. Jack untied the craft, and began rowing toward land. The crew, it seemed, would follow in more boats.

“What do ya have there, lassie?” the captain asked gruffly.

“’Tis my mother’s knapsack.”

“Let’s have a look at that, shall we? Can’t have ya taken off with any of my belongin’s.”

“I assure you, Captain, it is my mother’s things only.”

“Well, then you won’t mind me having a looksee, huh?”

Reluctantly handing over the knapsack, Rowena silently thanked herself for hiding the knife in her sleeve. After finding only a few books, one dress, a chalice, and some candles, he handed it back to her.

Dreading the answer, but finding strength in her plan, she asked, “What will become of me here, without my mother?”

“Well, lass, that’s already been decided.”

“By whom?”

“By me.” His tone made clear there was no room for discussion. “You’ll help me get supplies for me and my crew, and come back to ship.”

“I can’t go back to Ireland!” Rowena faked her distress easily; it wasn’t far from what she was feeling. “There is nothing for me there!”

“You’ll not be goin’ back to Ireland, lassie. You’ll be stayin’ on as my cook and personal...maid, we’ll call it.”

Trying her best to look sullen but resigned, Rowena bowed her head and remained silent as Jack rowed to shore.

Noise from the harbor brought her head up quickly. She never dreamed it would be like this! Merchants wheeled their carts along the waterfront, while people everywhere hurried to their carriages, horses, and boats. Jack was right after all; causing a distraction in this riot would be a piece of cake!

Once the small boat was tied off at shore, the three disembarked.

“Stay close.” The captain moved off toward the bustling street, not looking back.

Ducking into the crowd, Rowena waved goodbye to Jack. He knew what to do.

“Cap’n! Cap’n!”

“What now, you insolent-- Where’s the girl?” The captain’s sunburned face now looked purple with rage. “Where—“

“That’s what I was tellin’ ya Cap’n! She ran off! That way!” Jack pointed in the opposite direction of where Rowena had gone. With much yelling, pulling the boy behind, the man charged through the crowd looking for his lost slave.

Winding her way through the crowd, Rowena already gasped for breath. She couldn’t have been running more than a few minutes, but with the captain out of sight and hearing, she felt it safe to slow down and take stock of her surroundings.

Behind her, the ocean lapped at the shore, creating a soothing hush within her. To her left and right lay a throng of merchants, shoppers, travelers, and crew. Thinking to approach one of the merchants and ask about shelter, she turned into the crowd. After being knocked down by a runaway cart, shoved by an overzealous shopper, and knocked in the head with a child’s ball, she began to think better of it, and decided to head back toward the street. As she turned around, however, she noticed the fiery beard of the first mate headed toward her and the thoroughfare. Frantically searching for a place to hide, she finally found refuge between two large crates, and dove for the small space.

Holding her breath, Rowena watched as the man passed her, shoving people out of his way while shouting at a merchant for directions to the nearest tavern. Once he was passed, she breathed deeply and coughed on the salty air. Trying desperately to remain quiet while she thought of a plan, her mother’s voice arose from her memory.

“Do you remember your Aunt Hannah?”

“I’m not sure, mama. I don’t think so.”

“Well, she moved to the colonies when you were very little. I got a letter from her several months ago, inviting us to come stay with them in Massachusetts. She’s married now, with a girl of her own. She’s younger than you are, about nine by now, I think.”

“So we are going to live with Aunt Hannah?”

“If we can find her. In her letter she said they moved to Hardwick. But where in Massachusetts Colony that is, I just don’t know. I’m sure we’ll figure it all out when we get there.”

Crawling out from between the crates, Rowena walked purposefully to the nearest merchant. “Pardon me, sir,” she began. “Where can I find Hardwick?”

“I have a hard wick for ya, lassie!” laughed the robust man.

Confused, she tried again. “I’m looking for a way to get to Hardwick. My aunt is expecting me and my mother.”

“And just where is your mother, lassie? I could work a deal with her!” The man laughed again. Rowena still didn’t understand what was so funny.

Not wanting to let on that she was alone in this large city, she replied, “She is ill, sir, and waiting for me at a local tavern. She didn’t feel up to wandering through the port.”

Sobering at last, the merchant finally gave her the answer she sought. “Hardwick is about sixty miles west of here, lassie. You’ll be about two weeks by carriage to get there. Good luck finding someone to take you that far. Stagecoach won’t be through again for three weeks.”

Downcast, Rowena thanked the merchant for the information, and headed out of the port, toward town. How she would get to Hardwick she didn’t know. But she did know that she needed a quiet place to think, something to eat, and a bed to sleep in. It didn’t take long to find a tavern.

Explaining to the bartender that her mother was shopping on the port, she acquired a small room. When asked to pay in advance, she panicked, and then remembered the money her mother had shown her before they left the cottage. Reaching in the knapsack, she found the loose thread that marked the spot. Discreetly, she pulled it, letting loose the patch and freeing the money her mother had hidden there. After paying, she went to the room and promptly fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was morning. Her stomach growled; she had forgotten to eat the night before. Bone weary, she made her way down to get breakfast.

“I didn’t see your mother come in last night, lassie,” the barkeep said as he placed her plate on the table in front of her. “She still shopping at the port?”

“No, sir, you must have just missed her.”

“Where is she now, then?”

“She…uh…she went to…inquire about a carriage.” Inwardly, she thought, ‘I must get better at this lying business!’

“A carriage to where?”

“Hardwick.”

“Hey! Alan!” a man called from the other side of the bar. “Need another round over here!”

Alan moved away from her table, leaving Rowena relieved that she wouldn’t have to answer any more of his questions. Her relief didn’t last long, for a very tall, older man soon joined her.

“You and your mother are going to Hardwick? That’s not a short trip.”

“Yes ‘ir,” Rowena replied between bites.

“Your Irish, ain’t ya? What are ya doin’ in Boston?”

“My mother got us passage on a cargo ship at the last minute. Our house was burned down.” Horrified that she had let so much information slip, she quickly added, “My Aunt Hannah is expecting us in Hardwick.”

“Well, you’re in luck. It just so happens that I am headed for Hardwick myself. I had to come to Boston on business. Got a farm that needs tending, and a wife as well. If you and your mother would like to ride along, I’ve got room. But you’ll have to pay for your own rooms and meals at the taverns along the way.”

“That would be wonderful! How can I thank you?”

“I’ll have a talk with your mother about that. Now where is she, anyway? Unusual for a mother to leave her young daughter alone in a tavern.”

“Actually…”

“Yes?”

“She had to go out for something. I’m not sure what. But she’ll be back soon.”

Doubtful of the girl’s story, but not wanting to push the matter, the man continued. “Well, I’m leaving at dawn. Meet me at my carriage outside the tavern here just before, and we’ll head out.”

“Thank you so much, sir!”

“No problem, miss…”

“McGowen. Rowena McGowen. And my mother is Summer.”

“Tom Hackett. I’ll be seein’ you in the mornin’ Miss McGowen.”

With that the man left. Excited yet afraid, Rowena finished her breakfast.

Rowena awoke as the sun set. She had lain down after her meal, in preparation for morning. She read through her mother’s books as she waited for the signs that dawn was soon to come. One book was her mother’s personal diary. In it, she found things her mother had not yet taught her, and she was fascinated. She almost missed the moment she had been waiting for.

Just before daybreak, Rowena crept down the stairs and out into the street. Peeking around the corner, she saw Mr. Hackett’s carriage. He was not in sight. Quickly, she hurried around to the back of the carriage, climbed in, and covered herself with a blanket. Part of her felt guilty for deceiving such a kind stranger, but alarms rang in her head when she thought of telling him the truth about her mother. This was the only way she could get to Hardwick without being discovered as a girl alone.

Outside, she heard Tom walk around the carriage. He climbed aboard, and waited expectantly. When the girl and her mother did not arrive, and the sun was rising over the tavern, he flicked the reigns. They were on their way.

**********************************

Chapter Two

The ride was quietly peaceful and irritating at once. At first, frightened by the possibility of discovery, Rowena couldn’t move. She breathed shallowly and quietly, trying desperately not to make a sound. After a long while, she peaked out from her blanket and saw rolling green hills, and rows upon rows of corn. Feeling relief at being out of the city, but still somewhat weary of Mr. Hackett, she fell asleep thinking of her lost home.

Inshannon was beautiful year round, but Rowena had always especially enjoyed spring. Surrounded by prospering farms and the lush green grass of the countryside, the small town was bustling with activity. Hard working farmers planted their crops while singing to their horses. Laughing children ran over hill and dale, jubilantly playing their games in the warm spring breeze. Business at the markets boomed with the end of the harsh winter as the women of the community left their homes, delighted to no longer be prisoners of the cold February storms. And Summer and Rowena tended their garden.

Those hours of gardening with her mother were the most precious memories Rowena had. Throughout the day they would weed the plot, tilling the soil, laughing and singing throughout. Then, by the light of a full moon, they would plant the seeds while her mother quizzed her on the use of each herb.

“Basil is good for…” Summer began.

Smiling, Rowena smartly replied, “Cooking.” This earned her a vicious tickling.

After their laughter subsided, Rowena gave the correct answer. “Make a tea from basil to settle a stomach or calm nerves. Plant near house for protection. Carry in purse for prosperity.”

“Very good, my dearie.” Moving to the next row, Summer continued the lesson. “Belladonna is good for…”

“Add to tea for sleep or ease of headache.”

“And…”

“I don’t remember.”

“Banishing spirits, also protection. But you must remember when making anything with belladonna—it is deadly if you take in too much.”

“Yes, mama.”

Moving to the next row, Summer said, “Mugwort is for…”

Rowena’s rest didn’t last long. The road was far from smooth. Ruts from wagons before them left Rowena tossed from side to side. It wasn’t long before she realized the reason Mr. Hackett had not thought to look for the source of noise. Everything was being jostled as much as she, and most of it into her!

Settling back into a corner as far from the attack as possible, she gave up on sleep and took out her mother’s diary. She had much to learn. Her mother’s wisdom was within these pages. Just holding the book in her hands made her feel closer to her. There were two other books in the sack as well. One was the bible.

“The bible has many teachings that are useful in life. Although we do not believe in their ways, we must always respect other religions if we are ever to see that same respect ourselves.”

In the other book, another diary, were notes of herbs and stones, moon phases, and the like, by which she and her mother had lived their lives and healed their bodies. This book too, Rowena must study, for she no longer had her mother to give her the answers.

As the sun set into the darkening sky, and Mother Moon came out to shine, she put the books away and took in her surroundings. The wagon would soon enter a small town. Once again fearing discovery, she hid underneath the blanket and lay still. Soon, the wagon came to a stop, and she heard Tom climb down from the wagon. His footsteps echoed louder as he approached, and Rowena held her breath.

Muttering through clenched teeth, Tom tossed things around the wagon, looking for something. Feeling around, he grabbed Rowena’s foot. Despite her best efforts to remain hidden, she jumped at the touch, eliciting a shocked yell from Mr. Hackett.

For a moment they just stared at each other in shock. Tom was the first to break the silence. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh…”

“Where is your mother?”

Rowena could not speak.

“Why are you hiding? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Rowena tried to find her voice, but wasn’t sure what to say without actually getting herself into more trouble.

Angry with her silence, Tom yelled, “What are you doing here?”

Rowena burst into tears. She tried to apologize through her sobs, but she could tell that Tom couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. He lifted her out of the wagon, and roughly dragged her into the building before them. Slowly, Rowena realized they were in a tavern. Tom asked for a room, and took her there.

“I have to go back out there and tend to my horses. When I come back, you better have some answers.” He slammed the door, leaving her to her shock and misery.

“I’m so sorry I acted that way,” Rowena began. Tom had returned much calmer, dinner in hand, but still wanting answers. Rowena knew she must tell the truth; he would easily see through any story she made up.

“If you’re speaking of the crying, that’s ok. I have daughters myself, and I know girls will cry when startled. If you’re speaking of hiding in my wagon, well, I won’t forgive that until I know what’s going on here.”

Rowena told her tale, just as she had rehearsed while she had waited for Tom’s return. She told him of her mother’s death, and her escape from the captain. She told him of how she planned to hide on his wagon until they reached Hardwick.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, sir, but I didn’t know what to do. I was only trying to reach my aunt safely.”

“Well, little lass, I understand why you lied. But I have to say, you are pretty naïve to think that you could hide on a wagon from Boston to Hardwick without being discovered. We won’t be there for five more days! What were you going to eat? It’s almost funny.” Tom chuckled softly. “Well, I guess I’m stuck with ya now.”

“Please, if I could just ride with you the rest of the way, I promise not to be any trouble,” Rowena flinched at the sound of her own thin, pleading voice. Trying to act more mature, she straightened in her chair and lowered her voice. “I have some money if you require payment.”

“That’s not necessary, little lass. You can ride with me, and I’ll keep you safe until I deliver you to your aunt myself. It’s the least I can do, now. Right now it’s time to get some sleep.”

Tom made a cot on the floor and let Rowena have the bed, after much protesting from Rowena. They slept fitfully, and left the tavern at dawn.

The next few days passed swiftly. Rowena told Tom of her mother and their home in Ireland. Tom told stories of his daughters, one that was about the same age as Rowena herself. He told her of Hardwick, and funny stories about the people there. Each long day of riding ended in a stay in a tavern, where Tom passed her off as his own daughter, and they shared a room; Tom on the floor, Rowena in the bed. Rowena felt horrible about this arrangement, but the man would not be moved on the subject. At long last, they reached Hardwick late in the night on the sixth day.

“’Tis late, lass,” Tom said softly as they pulled in front of a small farmhouse. “I think it best you stay with us for tonight. I’ll deliver you to your aunt first thing in the morning.”

“Okay,” Rowena replied. She had come to trust this man, and would do as he thought best. “But only if you have room,” she added, just for politeness.

“Well, you’ll have to sleep on the floor, or in one of the chairs in the parlor, but it will suffice for just one night.”

“Yes, sir.”

Although she had slept upright in a very hard chair, Rowena awoke refreshed and excited about meeting her aunt. Meeting Tom’s wife, Carol, and his two daughters, Cynthia and Catherine, put her in even higher spirits. After a warm breakfast of fresh eggs, day-old bread, and delicious milk, Rowena bid her farewells, adding promises to visit once she settled at her aunt’s home.

As Tom’s wagon neared town, Rowena became nervous. Something wasn’t right, but she wasn’t sure what. Probably just jitters, Rowena thought. Everything’s fine.

Tom stopped at the general store to inquire about her aunt’s whereabouts. He came back to the wagon with a grimace, unable to look at Rowena.

“What’s the matter?” Rowena asked fearfully.

“Your aunt, it seems, has left town. No one knows where they went or why they left so suddenly, but her husband moved the family last week.”

It took several moments for the impact of this revelation to sink in. Gone? How could she be gone? “Where am I to go?” Rowena asked out loud, tears threatening to break through.

“I don’t know, lass. For now, you’re coming home with me. I can’t see leaving a child alone, regardless of how strong she seems to be.” He glanced at her, and she gave a weak smile.

“I don’t know about all that, sir.”

“Well, I do. After all you’ve been through, you’re still alive and well. That says something.”

“Well, thank you, sir.”

“No more of this ‘sir’ stuff. I told you before, call me Tom.” He started the wagon back toward his farm. “You’ll stay with us until we can figure out what to do.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Now, Carol, you know she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Well, now, that’s not our fault. She’s not our responsibility!”

“How would you feel if one of our daughters was in the same spot? Wouldn’t you want someone to help her?”

“Our children would never be in that position, and you know it. Where is her father anyway? Why didn’t he come along from Ireland? Her mother was probably a—“

“A what? You don’t know anything about her family and it’s presumptuous of you to—“

“And what do you know of her family, Tom?”

“Look, I’ve spent the last six days with that girl, and she’s told me all about her mother and what happened. She’s made it this far you can’t just throw her out!”

“No, you listen to me, Tom Hackett! We can barely put food on the table for our own daughters. We cannot afford another mouth to feed!”

Rowena sat in the parlor, hearing every word of the shouted discussion. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Tom’s family heartache. Formulating a plan, she waited for a lull in the argument. Finally, she heard the silence she had been waiting for, and slowly entered the kitchen.

“I am sorry to have caused you trouble, Tom.”

“Now, Rowena—“

“No, sir, I thank you for your kindness. But your wife is correct; you are not responsible for my welfare. If you will kindly take me into town, I should like to find work and a bed before night falls.”

Tom opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. With his wife glaring at him, and Rowena’s grim determination showing plainly on her face, he muttered, “I’ll go hitch up the wagon.” Even he knew not to try to argue with resolute women.

The ride to town was spent in silence. Rowena ran over her plan, wondering where she should start to look for employment. Tom was lost in his own thoughts, worried about the girl at his side.

As they neared town, he finally asked, “Where do you want me to take you? Where did you want to go?”

“The tavern,” the girl replied softly. “I should have enough money for a couple of nights stay. Hopefully I can find employment by then.”

“You might try the laundry, and…” Tom’s voice trailed off, as he realized what he was saying. How could he help a child find a job? She was only a child!

“And? Please, Tom, I could really use the information. I don’t know this town at all, and if you could just give me a place to start—“

“Market Street,” he interrupted. “I’ll show you how to get to Market Street from the tavern. It’s only a block down, and almost all of the merchants’ shops are located there. If you can find a job in this town, that’s where you’ll find it.”

“Thank you,” Rowena smiled.

“I just wish I could do more. I don’t feel right about this.”

“You’ve done more than enough. I thank you for your kindness this last week. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

Blushing, Tom turned back to the horses. Riding again in silence, they pulled in front of the tavern.

Rowena thanked Tom once more, and went into the tavern. A plump, blond woman with rosy cheeks stood behind the bar. At once Rowena felt her kindness, and approached without her usual timidity.

“I would like to rent a room, please.”

“Are you alone, child?”

Nervous again, but comforted by the sound of the woman’s Irish voice, she forced herself to continue, “Yes, ma’am, I am alone, although I would appreciate it if you did not make that a well known fact to your patrons.”

Impressed with the girl’s courage and forthright manner, the woman nodded. “That I would not do. Can you pay?”

“Yes, I can, miss.”

“Very well. You may have the room next to mine. That should help keep the troublemakers from your door.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am.”

“My name is Laura. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

“Don’t you want money first?”

“We can take care of that later. Come now.”

Leading Rowena up the stairs to the rooms above, Laura began to ask the questions Rowena had been dreading. “So, lass, how did you come to be alone in a town like this? Where is your mother, dearie?”

“She died on our way to this country.” Surprised by the calmness of her voice, Rowena realized that she had told the story so many times now that it didn’t seem real anymore. “She had a sister that lived here, but, alas, my aunt has moved, and I do not have anywhere to go but here.”

“Ah, you are the child that Tom came inquiring about yesterday.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I thought sure he would take ye in ‘imself.”

“He wanted to, but—“

“Let me guess, eh? That wife of his wouldn’t hear of it.”

“No, ma’am, she wouldn’t.”

“Please, call me Laura.”

Finally, they had arrived at the room. “That over there,” Laura said pointing, “is my room. This shall be yours.” She opened the door.

The bed was small, and the wood of the dresser was faded and warped, but the tiny room was the prettiest sight Rowena had beheld since she had left Ireland. “It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, running inside. She tossed her knapsack on the bed and spun around in a circle, bumping her hand sharply on the dresser.

“Careful, there, lassie.”

Rowena laughed. “It really is wonderful, Laura. Thank you. Now let me pay you for the room.” She reached for her knapsack. “I can only pay you for two days for right now, but I’m going to search for employment right away—“

“That’s fine dear. Pay for two days for now, we’ll take care of the rest later.”

“Thank you, ma—I mean, Laura.”

Rowena left the tavern in high spirits. Everything would be fine now, she was sure of it. She only needed to find a job. Surely it wouldn’t be that hard. She walked over a block as Tom had showed her and found Market Street. Starting at the edge of town as she was, she should hit every shop in the community simply by walking down the road. Swinging her arms and humming a tune, she began her search.

“I am sorry, little miss, but I simply cannot hire a child to do a man’s job, and a little girl at that!”

“Please, sir,” Rowena begged the merchant. “I know I can do something…perhaps I could clean your shop? Or bring the workers refreshments?” This last comment got several whistles from the sweaty men digging in the quarry behind her.

“Look, little miss, these men are not the company a girl of your age should be keeping. I wish I could help you, but I just can’t. Try the laundry up the way…perhaps they can give you a job there.” The merchant turned from her and went back into his shop to polish the stones his men had conjured from the ground.

Rowena stared after him, her brow furrowed in confusion. What did the man mean by his words about the men? True, she had always kept company with her mother and some of the ladies and girls back home, but she had always assumed that the men were busy working their farms. Was there another reason of which she as unaware?

Still confused, but resigned to the merchant’s decision not to hire her, she headed down the street to the next shop. The sixth place she had inquired about employment, the laundress must give her a job. Without money, she could not have food to eat or a bed to sleep in, and she refused to become a lowly beggar. Head held high, she went into the small shop. The robust woman inside was much less helpful than the jeweler.

“Ma’am, I am in search of employment. I do not require much, but enough for a bed and some food, and I will work hard. If you would just give me a chance…”

“Absolutely not,” the laundress answered immediately. “I cannot afford to feed my own children, much less you. They do the work around here, and they do it well. I’ll not have the likes of you taking away from them. Be gone!”

Shocked and dismayed, Rowena went back into the street. Head bowed, she kicked at the rocks in the road, no longer looking at the shops along the way. With no where to go and no one to help her, she began to wonder why this was called “the land of opportunity.”

Trying to hold back tears, Rowena made her way back to the tavern. This was her second day in the small town, and she had no money to pay for another night’s stay in her wonderful room. The shopkeepers would not hire her—she was too young, she was female, they could not pay her, or their families did the work. No one would even try to help her, and no one bothered to ask why she needed a job to begin with. She started to wonder if there were any decent mannered people in America.

“Oof!” Rowena hit the ground jarring her shoulder.

“You take it back!” a boy shouted.

“No you!”

The two boys rolled in the dirt, yelling and hitting one another, oblivious to the fact that they had knocked her down. Unable to hold back the tears that had been threatening all day, Rowena sobbed softly and scooted away from the rumble.

“Joseph! Markus! Stop that fighting right now!” Laura shouted from the doorway, hands on hips.

“But, Ma!” One of the boys stood and turned to the robust woman. “You said not to fight in the tavern. We’re not!” He grinned impishly just as the other boy snuck up behind him and punched him in the back. As the fight picked up pace once more, two men came out of the tavern and pulled the boys apart.

“Don’t you boys know better?” asked one of the men.

“Your mother doesn’t need this kind of trouble. Who started this mess?” asked the other.

“He did!” the boys said in unison, pointing at each other.

“Markus!” Laura called from the door.

One of the men took Markus by the arm, dragging him off. “To the jail with you,” he said. “You can cool off there.”

The other man pushed Joseph into the tavern. “You go clean up that mess you left for your mother!”

“Thank you, Mr. Cobb. They’re just too big for me to handle anymore.”

“Not a problem, Miss Laura. You know we’ll always step in to help.”

Closing the door, Laura finally noticed the girl crying in the road. Hurrying to her side, she called, “Are you hurt lassie?”

Rowena could do naught but sob. Laura helped her to her feet, and led her inside. “Let’s get you cleaned up and you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“My shoulder…” Rowena tried to tell the woman about her injury through her sobs. “I was knocked down…”

“We’ll take a look at that, too, then. Come along, lassie.”

Nerves calmed with warm milk, tears wiped away, and shoulder cleaned and bandaged, Rowena told her tale to the kindly bar owner, starting with the trip across the sea.

“But why did you have to leave your home?” Laura asked. “I know America has become the dream of everyone in Europe, and people come here by the droves. But for a lone woman with a child to leave her homeland for places unknown, with no real plan…And what of your father?”

“I think she had a plan,” the girl replied. “I just don’t know what it was. And I never knew my father.”

“But why did you have to leave?”

“I’m not sure I should say…”

“Please, child, you can trust me. I promise not to judge you. There is enough of that going on in this town anymore.”

“Well, my mother and I lived in a small cottage on the countryside, just outside of London. It’s not there anymore…” Tears began streaming down the child’s face. “They burned it down because…” Now sobbing uncontrollably once more, she could barely continue.

Laura was beside herself. What this child must have gone through! “Why, dear? Why did they burn down your house?”

“Because…because…” The memory of the cottage burning against the night sky overwhelmed Rowena. She couldn’t speak, and the sobs overtook her completely.

Putting her arms around the girl, Laura hushed her. “It is a fantastic tale you tell, my child. But I believe every word. People can be so cruel. Hush now.” Laura began to rock her as the sobs eased. “Everything will be alight. Mama Laura will make sure of it.”

After more warm milk, followed by more crying, followed by yet more warm milk, Rowena looked as if she might fall asleep right there at the bar.

“What should I do?” the girl asked helplessly.

“Come to work for me.” Laura replied without hesitation. “You can stay in your room, and eat here in the tavern.”

“That would be fine, but what would I do? I’m much too young to be a barkeep.”

“I know that dear. But you can help me serve the men their food, wash the dishes, and help me cook. There’s beds to make and sheets to take to the laundress. After you’ve accomplished all that, we’ll see about learning how to tend to the bar. But believe me, there’s plenty of work around here to be done.”

“Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would do without you!” Laura found herself enveloped in the girl’s small arms in the first hug she’d received in at least ten years. “You won’t be sorry, I promise! I’ll work hard, and earn my keep! Thank you!”

At almost thirty, Laura’s hair was beginning to gray and she didn’t move as quickly as she used to. Her two sons, Joseph and Markus, caused her nothing but grief, and could not be depended upon to help her run the inn. The girl would be a big help. Besides, she had always wanted a daughter.