New York Bride
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
New York Bride
North & South Book #3
1861
Christine Sterling
New York Bride
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
The book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. All rights are reserved with the exceptions of quotes used in reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.
Scriptures quoted from the King James Holy Bible.
All books titled or quoted in this story belong to their respective authors.
New York Bride ©2020 Christine Sterling
Cover Design by Virginia McKevitt, Black Widow Books
Editing by Carolyn Leggo and Amy Petrowich
1st Ed, 3/2020
License Note
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-- Christine Sterling
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New York Bride
North and South Book #3
Shay O’Donnell traveled across the Atlantic to escape the famine and poverty in Ireland. Sold into servitude by her father, she has little chance for freedom or marriage in the new land. She never expected a stolen kiss could turn her entire life upside down and give her hope for the future.
Macalister Wardsworth is conducting business for his father’s company when he encounters a beautiful Irish woman on the other side of the Atlantic. After weeks of stolen kisses and daydreams, Mac envisions his future with her. But when the ship arrives in New York on the precipice of war, their dreams become nightmares.
Can Mac and Shay find each other again? When Mac discovers Shay’s secret, how will he react, knowing he holds her future in his very hands? Will Shay become Mac’s New York Bride?
Acknowledgments & Dedication
I am so blessed that God gave me the gift of storytelling. I am so humbled that you, the reader, choose to read my books!
I am appreciative of my husband Dan who encourages me every day. I love you so much.
I have the most amazing daughters, Rebecca, Nora and Elizabeth who inspire me more than they know.
My team of editors and proofreaders – Carolyn and Amy, who are more than just part of my team. You are family.
Thank you, Phyllis Rundell, for suggesting the name Macalister for this story! Mac fits him perfectly. And to Tasha Henderson for suggesting the last name of Wardsworth.
Dedicated to all of those who came to America in search of a better life.
Author's note
Irish immigration was at its highest in the 1850s. Irish families sought to escape Ireland due to the famine that was stretching across Europe. This was in part, due to the potato blight, which impacted nearly all of Ireland’s exports and food supply.
Many sought a new life in the Americas. They would pay a few coins for passage on a ship and undertake the six to fourteen-week journey from Ireland to Canada or New York. Most of these “immigration ships” were converted slave ships.
Those that didn’t have enough coins for passage would become indentured servants and then work for seven years to pay off the debt to the person who fronted the fare.
Many of these immigrants arrived with no skills. Their motivation was simply to find enough to eat. They were housed in hovels and tenement apartments; where it wasn’t uncommon to have seven people to a two-room unit.
With no skills and wanting to create a better life, many took menial labor jobs or became house servants. The textile factories were booming in the late 1850s, and when the war broke out, many factories turned their attention to manufacturing uniforms for the Union Army.
By the 1860s, indentured servitude was still a common practice, however, the boats crossing the Atlantic were much nicer than the ones used previously. For the immigrants, however, the steerage portion of the ship was less than ideal. Men and women were separated. The conditions were harsh, inhumane and unhygienic. This led to death and disease among most of the third-class hold.
Bodies weren’t buried. They were simply pushed overboard. The second leading cause of death (after dysentery, which could kill someone in a mere 48 hours) was suicide. It was a horrific trip all around for those below first class.
In April 1861, there was a call to arms to fight the Confederate troops. Many Irish men enlisted, simply to show loyalty to their new country, and quell some of the discrimination they were receiving.
There were three Irish Units from New York. the 63rd New York Infantry Regiment, organized on Staten Island, and the 69th and 88th New York Infantry Regiments from the Bronx. These three units were known as the Irish Brigade. The most well-known, perhaps was the 69th New York Regiment, also known as the Fighting Irish.
This story deals with the men and women who immigrated to America for a better life and were caught up in a war that wasn’t their own.
You can find out more about the brave men of the Irish Brigade at:
https://www.history.com/topics/american-civil-war/the-irish-brigade
Chapter 1
April 1861, Cork, Ireland
Shay O’Donnell held her chin high and stared at the large ship in front of her. She tried not to let her bottom lip quiver, but it was no use. If she wasn’t careful, she might create a scene.
She watched the first-class passengers board at the front of the ship. They were decked out in their finery and thick coats. Shay pulled her threadbare jacket tighter around her shoulders and refastened the shawl that she wore over it.
The men and women were laughing over the thought of taking a voyage across the Atlantic. Shay doubted they would be laughing after a few days on the rough seas.
She watched a man standing next to several large trunks. He was tall and thin, his height increased by the tall black hat he wore. He sported a long jacket that fell below his knees, and light-colored pants with black boots.
Shay snorted. Those would be filthy in a matter of hours on the boat. She could see that his boots were polished as they reflected the sun rising in the sky.
She spied her brother Finn as he came running down the dock. Their father had given him a coin to purchase four apples from a fruit vendor. As Finn ran towards them, he clipped the man in the tall hat and the apples he carried fell to the ground.
Shay winced. She hoped they weren’t bruised too badly. The man steadied Finn and then helped him collect the wayward apples. He must have sa
id something funny, as she could see Finn laugh as he stuffed the apples in his pockets and shirt.
Two men joined the party and one of them sat down on the trunk; one had light hair, the other had dark brown. They wore the same fine garments as their companion.
They conversed with Finn for a few moments, and then the three men turned when Finn pointed to Shay and their father. The man in the tall hat raised his hand in greeting. Shay turned away without response. She’d have to keep a close eye on Finn, otherwise, he’d be all over the ship offering to do whatever he could to make a coin.
It didn’t take long before Finn jogged over to where Shay and her father were waiting. He handed Shay the apples and she inspected each one before placing them in the basket.
“What was that about?” her father asked.
“The man asked if I was free to help him load his trunks. I told him I was a passenger too and I couldn’t risk missing the boarding call.”
Shay turned back to look at the men by the trunks. One of them called to some men that were walking by. The men approached and each grabbed an end of one of the trunks and started to carry it up the planks, onto the boat.
She couldn’t imagine having four trunks of belongings to take on the voyage. They were only carrying two carpetbags on the boat. One for her, and one for Finn.
Finn was just sixteen years old but acted younger. He was still old enough to secure passage and work in the factories in New York. Shay just turned twenty. She should be planning her future, not looking to moving so far away. Their father had made the arrangements through a man he knew in town.
She looked at the faces of the men and women in the steerage class. Many of them were in the same situation as she was. All these boys and girls; many not even sixteen, were going to America to work. She wondered if they were all destined for the same factory.
She wondered if they were sold into servitude like her and Finn.
She knew her father was doing the best. Times had been difficult since her mother died of starvation during the famine. She always gave her little share of the meal to a growing Finn or a hungry Shay. It was too late when they realized that she wasn’t eating at all, and she died just a few days later.
Her father looked haggard. His face was worn with deep cervices. His blue eyes, which once sparkled, were now dull and flat. He was starting to stoop, walking with his shoulders hunched. Shay wanted to cry that her once strong father had been reduced to this.
She didn’t want to leave him. He needed someone to take care of him. Someone to make sure he would eat and get odd jobs done. He was so thin.
Even though the famine ended just two short years ago, her father still hadn’t regained the weight he lost during that time.
Since there was no work to be found, her father learned of families that were being matched to employers in America. Families were sending their sons and daughters in search of a better life. Their new employers would cover the costs associated with the trip and give each family a brand-new apartment where they could stay. The rent would be deducted from their wages, as would the cost of the trip.
Irish immigrants would be forced to work for seven years to pay back their employers. Only then would they be on their own to pursue a better life. Shay would be twenty-six when she would finally be free from the obligation.
It was a step above slavery, she thought.
“Do you have everything you need?” her father asked.
She wanted to scream no! But she knew it would put additional hardship on her father; she didn’t want to do that. Instead, she pushed back a dark curl from her face and gave a quick nod. “Yes, Da. I have the apples Finn just bought. I took some bread and cheese from the house. There are two loaves under the cloth near the stove at home. That should last you a few days.”
“You shouldn’t have done that, daughter. You could use that bread on the trip.”
“It would spoil in the damp air. Better you have it at home.”
Her father gave a short nod. “Make sure the food lasts as long as possible. And keep it from prying eyes. I heard this voyage could take up to three months.”
Shay groaned aloud. Three months? She thought six weeks. What did Da mean by prying eyes?
“If there are folks without food on the trip, they are likely to steal what little bit you have. Hunger does many things to a person.” Shay had seen firsthand what hunger had done in her own country.
Men and women resorted to stealing what little bit they could find. Potatoes, which were a large part of the Irish diet, weren’t available due to the blight. England and the rest of Europe weren’t willing to share what they had with Ireland, causing uprising and rebellions. And now it was causing the families to be broken apart.
“Isn’t there food on the boat?” Finn asked. “I saw them load up baskets of food.”
“That’s for the first-class passengers. I understand you’ll get soup and a piece of bread every day, but that’s all.” He handed a crumpled handkerchief to Shay.
She opened the cloth to find a handful of coins. “Da, I canna’t take this.” She handed the hankie back to her father. He curled his bony fingers over her hand and held the handkerchief in place.
“Take it, child,” he said with tears glistening in his eyes. “T’isn’t much, but you’ll have the coins in case you need them.”
Shay gave a little sniff. She took a deep breath to fight back the tears. It didn’t seem right, taking money from her father, but the coins she scraped away by cleaning and cooking wouldn’t last long once they arrived in America. “Th-hank you, Da.”
“’Tis alright, iníon beloved,” her father said pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “You’ll have a good life in American. A better life.”
Shay nodded, too consumed to speak. Soon she would be leaving her homeland behind, possibly to never return. Her hand tightened around the paper in her hand, causing it to crumple.
“Da,” her younger brother Finn asked, embracing their father in a hug. “Why do we hafta go? I want to stay with you.”
Liam O’Donnell pulled his son close and pressed his weathered face into the boy’s blond hair. “I canna nary take care of meself, boy. There t’ain’t no work and our Éire has barely recovered.” He released Finn and pushed him gently towards Shay. “You listen to me, boy. You are the man of the family now.” Shay saw Finn stand a little straighter. “It is your responsibility to take care of your sister.”
Shay put her hand on Finn’s shoulder. “We will look after each other, Da.”
Her father waggled his finger in Shay’s face. “You be very careful, Shannon O’Donnell,” he said, calling her by her full name. “Keep to yourself as much as possible. It looks like a motley crew on this boat. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you on the trip over.”
Shay nodded. “Yes, Da.”
A rumble sounded as a plank was stretched from the ship to the dock. Folks began to move and form a line to walk aboard. Several were gently crying, hugging sons and daughters right before they stepped onto the wooden boards leading up to the boat.
“Let’s go, Finn,” Shay said, guiding her brother to the end of the line. Their father followed and waited until they were next on the boat.
There was a man in a white shirt and brown breeches standing at the bottom of the gangway. Shay could hear him yelling at the passengers as they approached. Shay could see him look at each passenger’s papers and then push them up the planks. She wondered what made him so miserable that he was rude to the passengers.
As they waited their turn in line, the stench of unwashed bodies washed over the crowd. Shay wanted to retch. She held her nose in the crook of her arm as they continued their approach to the front of the line.
“Tickets,” the man growled. He held out his palm. Shay blinked several times. The words didn’t register in her mind. The man took a step forward and raised his voice. “I said, ticket!” Shay took a step back. “What’s wrong with you? You stupid, girl?” His lip curled
, revealing tobacco-stained teeth, as his eyes scanned Shay from her boots to her bonnet.
“The paper, Shay,” Finn whispered, peeking his head from behind her.
“You better watch your place, boy,” the man said pointing a finger at Finn.
Shay held the paper between her fingers, offering it to the man. “Sorry it is wrinkled,” she said softly.”
The man-made a snorting sound as he yanked the paper from her hand. He glanced at the paper and gave Shay a scowl that turned her blood cold.
“I know Mr. Ward will teach you some manners. He won’t put up with an Irish churl that don’t respond immediately. You’ll learn your place, missy, otherwise, I might have to teach you meself.” His tongue ran across his lips.
Shay watched as her father moved in between her and the man. Her father held his hands up as if in mock surrender. “She’s a bit daft, but she won’t cause you no trouble.”
“I’ll make sure she don’t,” he growled, thrusting the paper into her father’s chest. “Get out of here old man, we have a schedule to keep. Ticket,” he bellowed to the people behind her.
Her father gave a slight bow and then turned to Shay and Finn. He gave them each one last hug and kiss before stepping out of the line.
Shay lifted her bag and took Finn’s hand. She led him up the gangway. She looked down on the boards. She could see the blue-green of the water between the planks. The water broke in small waves against the hull of the ship.
Shay released Finn’s hand to steady herself against the rocking of the gangway. She paused long enough to peek back to the dock. Her father gave her a wave before disappearing into the crowd.
They were truly alone now.
Chapter 2
“Keep a’movin’,” a shrill voice called behind her. Shay picked up her steps and was soon standing on the deck of the ship.