Erin

by Rachel Wesson

  Erin

  Clover Springs Mail Order Brides

  Rachel Wesson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  An Introduction to Oregon Trail Series

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Rachel Wesson

  Copyright © 2017 by Rachel Wesson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter 1

  New York, May 1887

  “You can come in now Mrs. Cooper.”

  Erin pushed her hair back, trying to calm her nerves. She took a quick look in the mirror to make sure she was presentable before moving from the waiting room into the larger room.

  Three doctors were sitting at the main desk in front of her. She wasn’t asked to take a seat. That was the first bad sign. She made a mental note to remember how hard this was. Next time she had to deliver news to a patient, she would try being more understanding. That is, if there was a next time.

  The doctor sitting in the middle looked up from his notes, pushing his thin-framed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “There is no easy way to say this, Mrs. Cooper.”

  “Just tell me straight, sir, please.”

  “We have read the court papers and have debated this issue most strenuously. I would like to congratulate you on your achievements while working at the hospital. If circumstances were different, I believe you would have made an excellent doctor.”

  “You mean if I had been a man?”

  “Now there is no call for that attitude,” the most senior doctor on the panel said. His condescending tone and the fact he stared at a point over her head told her, her fate was sealed.

  “When do I have to leave?”

  She crossed her fingers hoping they would allow her sit her final examinations. It was a long shot but…

  “Today.”

  Despite not being asked to sit down, Erin sat. She was afraid her legs would buckle under her and she had some pride left.

  “I thought there was the opportunity for an appeal?” she said, her voice not as clear and steady as she would have liked.

  “The circumstances in this case require a final decision. Mrs. Cooper, your presence here is a distraction. You must leave these premises immediately. Your things will be collected and delivered to your home.”

  “But I was proved …”

  “Our decision is final. Good day, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Erin stood up in a haze. She must have looked shocked as the doctor who had first addressed her, stood and held the door open for her. “Erin, I am sorry. I tried,” he said quietly. “Is there someone waiting for you at home?”

  “No, Doctor. Thank you for your time. Good day.”

  She wasn’t completely surprised, although she’d hoped her reputation and hard work would count for more. Thank goodness Mam had already sailed. She didn’t need this news on top of everything else.

  She couldn’t remember getting home. Pushing the door open, she was glad Mrs. Doherty, her housekeeper, was still there. She’d make her a cup of tea before she left for the day.

  “Why you are so white? Did you have more trouble?”

  “I am fine, Mrs. Doherty. I walked a little too quickly is all. I would love a cup of tea if you would be so kind.”

  “Will I put a drop of whisky in it for you, lass? My doctor swears by it you know.”

  Erin did know. She came up against this on a daily basis. So many doctors prescribed alcohol to their patients in the dim hope it would make them feel better. Perhaps it did but only for the short term.

  “No thank you, Mrs. Doherty. A cup of tea would be just fine.”

  Mrs. Doherty went off muttering something but Erin didn’t take any notice. She wanted to sit down and rest for a while before she started looking at her financial affairs. This house would have to go. She had a small sum of cash saved up and some pieces of jewelry she no longer wanted. She could sell them but would it be enough? She wanted to give Mrs. Doherty a couple of months’ wages to tide her over till her next job. Housekeeper positions were difficult to find given the huge number of young immigrants arriving on a daily basis. She would, of course, give her a wonderful reference but after today, how much weight would that hold? Mrs. Doherty may be better off lying than to admit to working for her.

  A couple of weeks later the house was sold together with most of her possessions. The house had been heavily mortgaged so after paying back the debt and providing for Mrs. Doherty, she was left with very little cash.

  Mrs. Doherty had cried bucketfuls when she told her she had to leave New York. The poor woman had even invited Erin to come share her house rather than going west and being alone amongst strangers. Touched as she was at the gesture, Erin knew her housekeeper couldn’t afford to feed another person.

  She was nearly as badly off financially. She looked at her total worldly goods. A few items of clothing, her medical books and instruments. Her most prized possession was her uncles medical bag, the leather weathered from years of use but you could still see the initials E Brennan MD. Her pa's younger brother had married a wealthy widow some years older than him. She had supported him through medical school. She got a charming young handsome doctor on her arm and he got the chance to make a dream come true and practice medicine. Despite the age difference they were very happy together.

  When they died in a train derailment, she'd been surprised to find her uncle had not only left her a small allowance but his medical bag and books. He had paid a significant amount of her tuition costs too. Something she suspected led to widening the family rift caused by him marrying a protestant widow. The bulk of their estate went to the son of her previous marriage. He'd never approved of his mother's remarriage so there was no help from that quarter. Without the money from her uncle, Erin's future at medical school was in jeopardy until her mam surprised her and paid all the bills.

  Mam had gone back to Ireland but before she left, she had asked Erin to bring a gift to Father Molloy. She wanted to thank him for all the things he had done for the family over the years. Erin couldn’t understand why her mam didn’t just post it, but Mam had insisted it be delivered in person. She mentioned something about a dream she had but Erin didn’t pay much notice. Her mam laid great store by what she called her gift. She reckoned she had the second sight. Erin didn’t believe anyone could see into the future never mind her mam. If she could, surely, she would have foreseen what happened to her da. He was a fireman and had been killed trying to help a family escape a high rise. Erin didn’t want to think about her da, not now. Not ever. He hadn’t wanted her to become a doctor. They’d argued and were not speaking when he died.


  Her mam had supported her every step of the way. When everyone else laughed at the idea of a woman becoming a doctor, Mam had given them her look. Mairead Brennan's look could stop a train. Or so the locals used to say. Nothing stopped her mam when she got an idea in her head.

  She wondered what her mam would think of her heading out west. But then what choice did she have? Nothing could have made her stay in New York. Despite the size of the city, gossip spread fast. She would never get used to people staring at her in the streets or worse those she thought were friends ignoring her.

  Erin sat on the train, her things in a small carpet bag with the medical bag on her knee. A couple of people glanced at the bag. She shared the same initial as her uncle. If she was going to start a new life alone, she might as well shake off the baggage of her previous one. Everything could go starting with her name. No more Mrs. Cooper. From now on, she answered to Erin Brennan.

  Chapter 2

  Clover Springs

  Mick Quinn pushed the hat back from his eyes. He was looking forward to seeing the people of Clover Springs again. He felt more at home here than anywhere else he had ventured on his travels. Cookie liked it too otherwise he wouldn’t have come with him. Despite his grumbling, the man enjoyed staying at the Sullivan ranch. Mick wondered if he had a thing for Mrs. Higgins. Not that he would ask. They may be very good friends but Cookie was almost like a father to him. And there was one thing you didn’t ask your pa about and that was his love life.

  He hoped being surrounded by old friends would help him shake his melancholy. Every year he traveled back to the farm hoping for good news. As usual, he had gone this year only to be disappointed again. The Stevensons, who rented the farm and were doing an amazing job, were always friendly and hospitable but he felt uncomfortable at the pity he saw in their eyes. Why he had ever shared his story, he didn’t know. He usually didn’t tell anyone. Perhaps it was the concern Mrs. Stevenson expressed. She'd known him for nearly twenty years and kept telling him it was time to put down roots, meet a nice girl, and have a family of his own. Ha! Little did she know the war hadn't only robbed him of his past but his future too.

  “You going to sulk all day?” Cookie said as they got nearer the Sullivan ranch.

  “I ain't sulking. I was thinking is all.”

  “Listen, son, I been meaning to say this for some time. I think we should stop returning to Virginia every year. Don't go looking at me like that. I ain’t saying there’s not hope but the Stevensons would send you a telegram if they found out anything.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “No, it ain’t, but it sure beats the heartache you bring on yourself. Visiting that old place, all those memories. It ain’t good for you. You know it and I know it. Ain’t good for nobody. Some things are best left in the past.”

  “Cookie, I...”

  “I know you don’t want to hear it but think on it please. I only got your best interests at heart.”

  Cookie set his horse into a gallop in the direction of the ranch. Mick followed behind not giving into his horse’s desire to run too. Was Cookie right? Should he give up now, after all these years? He stared into the distance not seeing the large Sullivan ranch but another small farm, a lady pulling water from the well, a man checking his horse and two little... Enough. Cookie's right. Looking back isn’t helping anyone.

  “Mick, welcome back. We thought we'd have to send out a search party when you didn’t arrive last week. You missed the Harvest Festival and all.”

  “I know I'm late, boss. Had some stuff to sort out. How are things here? How’s the missus and that fine baby of yours?”

  “Mary is great, not sure anyone would love Cathy at the moment. She got her ma's Irish temper.”

  Mick laughed. Mary Sullivan wasn’t your average Irish woman. She had a nice calm temperament provided she wasn’t too upset. She could talk forever but getting all fired up quickly wasn’t her style. He wasn’t about to sing her virtues to his boss though. Although they had got over the mix up over the birthday present that first year Mrs. Sullivan had come to live in Clover Springs, he didn’t want to push his luck. Davy was protective over his missus. Rightly so given the shortage of women in the area.

  “Any trouble since we been gone?”

  “None. At least not on the ranch.”

  Mick looked at his boss more closely. Something was up.

  “You heard there’s been more trouble with the sheep herders? Not with my men, they know I won’t stand for it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t spill over onto my land.”

  “So what’s with the frown?” Mick asked.

  “You will find changes in Clover Springs. The men were pleased to see a new house open up.”

  “A house?”

  “You know the type I mean. They don't hold quilting parties or sewing bees.”

  “A bordello in Clover Springs? How did that one get past Mrs. Grey and the rest of the townsfolk?” Mick saw Davy's frown. “What ain’t you telling me, boss?”

  “Mick, I know single men got to have their entertainment but this house, it isn’t right. The women, well, they are only girls really... You know what I'm trying to say.”

  “Have you told the men its off limits?”

  Surprised Davy stared. “No, I can’t do that. They may be my workers but I ain't their pa. They got to make their own decisions. But I sense trouble brewing. Dickinson, he's the owner. He reminds me of Coleman – that man who tried to take Laura away. He has shifty eyes.”

  “Do you want me to do something in particular?” Mick was still a little confused as to why Davy was telling him all this.

  “Just watch yourself, Mick. I know you have a hot temper, particularly when it comes to women and kids. I don't expect you to stand by if anyone is being mistreated but when it comes to Dickinson and his men, you might not want to handle it alone. That’s all I'm saying.” Davy looked at him. Mick nodded. He understood his boss’s warning and was more than a little touched by the fact he cared enough to make it. They sure had come a long way since that first year Mary Sullivan had arrived.

  “Come on, Mrs. H will have my head. She's baked a feast. She said she had a feeling you’d be back soon and got prepared.”

  “Sure, that’s the only reason I come back to Clover Springs. Mrs. Higgins's cooking.”

  Mick gave his horse to one of the boys who helped the ranch hands with the chores. “After his rubdown, give him plenty of oats, he's earned it.”

  The boy led his horse away. Mick walked toward the kitchen spotting Cookie laughing and joking with Mrs. H. They did look like a couple. He wondered if he might just have a word with Aaron and Samuel. With the boys both being relatively newlyweds, they might just convince their ma to give it a go with Cookie. She wouldn’t get a better man that was for sure.

  Chapter 3

  “Morning, Wilma.” Father Molloy walked into the orphanage closing the door behind him.

  “Did you smell the cookies? I just baked a new batch this morning. I have to wait till the children go to school or they eat them all as soon as they come out of the oven.” Wilma chuckled.

  Father Molloy knew she didn't mind the children taking the cookies. After what those little ones had been through, they deserved cookies every day as far as she was concerned.

  He took a seat at the table.

  “Is Ellen down at the school, too, with baby Jake?”

  Wilma frowned. “Yes, she is and you need to have a word with that woman. She be doing too much. She should be resting after a difficult birth. Stubborn as a mule she is.”

  “You would know more about that than me, Wilma.”

  Wilma laughed. “I don't know about that, Father. You can be more stubborn than Miss Ellen and me put together.” Her tone grew more serious. “I am telling you though she ain’t listening to nobody. Laura is trying to persuade her to take more time off, but Miss Ellen thinks there are too many children for one teacher.”

  “Ellen is right. There are.”
Catching the look on Wilma's face, Father Molloy quickly continued. “Ellen shouldn’t be there though, not with her still feeling so ill. I will speak to Mrs. Grey. She seems to have a way of talking Ellen around.”

  “I was talking to Miss Alicia, I mean Alicia, last week about the children.”

  Father Molloy noticed her slip but didn’t comment. It would take Wilma a long time to stop calling white folk mister and miss despite Alicia's insistence she treat them as her equal.

  “You know I am still rather shocked, but delighted, you two have become such good friends.”

  “Me and Alicia? Me too. If you had told me that day she arrived in Clover Springs, she would fast become like family to me, I would have said you done lost your mind.”

  “God works in mysterious ways,” Father Molloy said half teasing as he knew Wilma hated it when he referenced God like that.

  “I don’t know about God and mysterious ways, but I do know you be a good judge of character. You saw something in Alicia that day or you wouldn’t have invited her to Clover Springs.”

  Father Molloy didn't confirm or deny her assumption.

  “Is she back from her trip yet?”

  “They is all due home tomorrow. I can't wait to see her, Aaron and those two sweet boys of theirs. Mr. Aaron, he was kicking up a big fuss because Alicia told him he had to wear a fancy suit to their meeting. You should have heard him complaining to Mr. Samuel about it. He was saying he not one of those city boys.” Wilma was laughing so hard, her whole body wobbled. She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.

  “I hope the visit proves successful.”

  “You mean you hope Alicia shows more tact than she did when she first came here.”

  Father Molloy nodded, not surprised she had read him so well. “A lot of people don’t take too kindly to women bosses, particularly those who are likely to complain if the workers aren’t being treated too well.”