Erin

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Erin Page 3

by Rachel Wesson


  Alicia couldn’t help be disappointed. She’d been sure the priest would love their idea.

  “On the other hand, it is a wonderful charitable idea providing young girls with a safe home, good work, and a decent salary. It always amazes me how one little town can offer so much to so many. I have to put my trust in God and pray he allows us to keep the sentiment of Clover Springs while growing the population.”

  Alicia was sure everyone heard her breath of relief. He was in agreement.

  “Going to be awful hard keeping the boys on track if they hear there are single women in town ripe for the plucking.”

  “Aaron Higgins,” Alicia blushed. “Please mind your manners.”

  “Sorry, darling, I forgot where I was. My apologies everyone.”

  “I don’t agree with your language but I can appreciate your sentiment. The ranch hands will just have to realize there are rules. If they cannot abide by them then they may just find themselves out of a job. It’s not like there are plenty of employment opportunities at the moment so that might be enough to keep them in line,” Reverend Timmons added.

  “Most of the men working for me are honest, hardworking lads who would love to find a woman and settle down. I don’t expect any trouble from that quarter.”

  Mick was glad to hear Davy stick up for his men.

  “Not all men are so well behaved, Mr. Sullivan.” Mrs. Grey's pointed glance in Charlie Staunton’s direction didn’t go unnoticed.

  “So how do we find these girls?” Alicia asked in the hope of diffusing any potential row.

  “I am sure Nellie will help us. She is bound to know people whose families need work.” Katie said before explaining to Alicia who Nellie was. “Nellie was the cook in our uncle’s house when we first came to Boston. She looked after Ellen and me.”

  “But ain't she working for Mrs. Gantley, the mail-order bride lady?” Wilma said.

  “Yes, she is but it will be all right. Not everyone who arrives at Mrs. Gantley’s house is suitable to be a mail order bride. Some are just so desperate for a job and security, they are willing to get married. I am sure Mrs. Gantley will help us too. She will have connections with rich people who employ servants. Many Irish and English people come to America by following family members.”

  “Father Malloy, do you have any ideas?” Alicia asked for fear their project would lose his backing.

  “Indeed, I do. Lots of Irish girls have been in service back in Ireland and often come to Boston with wonderful references. But as you know yourselves there are more servants than there are jobs in Boston at the moment.”

  “These are the girls the likes of Coleman will prey on. They are in a new country, probably worried sick about their future and will jump at any chance to earn what they think is a decent living.”

  “That’s true and many a young girl has got caught by groups like Coleman’s and your friend, Mr. Venebles.”

  Alicia shuddered at the mention of her ex-fiancé. “He most certainly isn’t my friend. I hope he rots in jail.”

  “So, do you think this will work, Father?”

  “Well, Katie, I certainly think it's worth a try, don't you?”

  Chapter 6

  Erin twisted and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. She was heartily sick of sitting on a train and wished more than once she had put Mam’s parcel in the post. Her mam would never have known any different and she wouldn’t be sitting here on a train headed to goodness knows where.

  She wasn’t looking forward to meeting a catholic priest. Her mam’s last wish before she got on the boat back to Ireland was for her to follow her catholic upbringing. It’s not just about religion, Alannah, it’s about being part of a large family.

  Erin had hugged her mam tightly. She only ever called them Alannah when she was very upset, falling into the Gaelic endearments easily. Erin had hugged her two younger brothers and her sister as they made their way back to Ireland. Her mam’s brother had promised them a home. Mam couldn’t stay in New York, not after what had happened to her husband. Things were better in Ireland. The famine was a thing of the past. The economy had picked up a lot, too, probably due in part to the amount of money being sent home by the Irish in America. Da had always wanted to go “home” as he called it despite being born in New York. This was Mam’s way of feeling closer to him she guessed.

  She had tried to convince Erin to go with them. The chances of becoming a doctor in America were slim but there were none in Ireland. Over there, a woman’s place was very firmly in the home. Erin shuddered. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being stuck at home minding children, cooking and washing while her husband worked all the hours God sent to keep a roof over their heads.

  She watched out the window as the train puffed into Clover Springs. She was looking forward to a good wash and a comfortable night’s sleep. Thankfully, she was wearing a traveling cloak so it took the brunt of the ashes and cinders flying around. She would be glad to get rid of it, it was so ugly and patched in so many places it was a wonder it stuck together. But it served its purpose as Mam would have said. She smiled as the conductor helped her off the train.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay here, miss, although I doubt you will stay unmarried for a whole year.”

  Erin shook her head at his strange comment. He had made similar ones on the train. She supposed he saw so many passengers he had got her mixed up with someone else. A new mail order bride on her way to meet her husband perhaps. The male doctors had found it hilarious someone would travel across the country to marry a man they hadn’t met. But it was different for them. They had choices. Most of the women in the adverts making them laugh were obviously desperate.

  “Well, looks like Mrs. Grey’s idea is off to a good start, would you say Mick?”

  Erin spun around to stare coldly as two cowboys stood staring at her. The man she assumed was Mick had the decency to look away, embarrassed to be caught staring. The other man simply stared back even when she tried imitating her mother’s steely look.

  “Looks a mite bad-tempered to me but guess that could be the traveling. Maybe I should offer to carry her bag and see if that sweetens her up some.” The cowboy winked at Erin.

  “I would suggest you mind your manners or perhaps go and learn some. I can look after my own bags, thank you very much.” She turned on her heel and walked off in the direction of a hut. She hoped there was a train official on duty. Thankfully, an older man stood behind the counter. “Please, sir, could you watch my luggage until I return with some transport.”

  “Where you traveling to, miss?”

  “I am looking for a boarding house.”

  “Ah, you are one of them girls. Funny I thought you would be younger.” The man spat some tobacco out the side of his mouth. Erin stared in horror at the brown juice making its way down his bushy beard. She didn’t know what shocked her more, the fact he seemed to be expecting her or the fact he’d called her old. Twenty-six she may be, but old? What sort of town was this anyway?

  “Thank you,” She muttered as politely as she could. It wouldn’t do to annoy the man looking after her belongings.

  “Quinn, can ya show this lady to the boarding house please. I got to mind her bags.”

  “Any excuse for you to sit while others do your bidding, Matthews,” The man called back, although he nodded to Erin as he removed his hat. “Names Mick Quinn. If you come with me, ma’am, I will show you to the Sullivan boarding house. Mrs. Sullivan is expecting you.”

  Mick couldn’t believe his luck. Matthews had asked him to show the new girl to the boarding house. She wasn’t bad looking if she smiled. She’d taken offense real easy though but then Grattan wasn’t known for his tact. He spent way too much time around animals to remember how to speak to a lady. Maybe she was embarrassed they all knew why she was in Clover Springs.

  “Mrs. Sullivan, she runs the boarding house, is a very nice lady. She’ll look out for you.”

  Erin looked at him quickly before looking
away. He tried again.

  “So where are you from?”

  ‘New York.”

  Well, it was a start, she’d answered his question. Maybe she didn’t like to talk. He couldn’t imagine that. All the ladies he had met loved talking. Mary, Laura, and Mrs. H never stopped talking from what he saw at the ranch.

  “What made you decide to come to Clover Springs?” Sort of a stupid question to ask when you know the answer. All the ladies coming to stay with Mrs. Sullivan wanted to get married, didn’t they?

  Mick found himself walking alone. He turned to see the lady standing on the path behind him. What was wrong with her? He walked back.

  “What are you standing here for? The boarding house is up there a bit.”

  “I am trying to work out why everyone thinks my business is theirs. Does nothing ever happen in this town? Are you so short of people to speak to you subject complete strangers to an interrogation?”

  Gee, she was madder than a cornered beast. “Listen, lady, don’t get uppity with me. I was just making conversation. I won’t say another word.”

  “Thank you.” She walked off leaving him no option but to follow her. He had offered to carry her carpet bag but she clung to it closely. He admired the way her skirts swished showing a tantalizing view of shapely ankles before he realized she had taken the wrong turn. At this rate she would be in the Red Feathers or the saloon next door. Mrs. Sullivan would kill him if that happened closely followed by Mrs. Grey. He called out to her but she didn’t seem to hear him. Either that or she was ignoring him deliberately. He was tempted to let her keep walking to see what she would make of the saloon.

  Her step didn’t falter. Even when a scantily clad Lily said hi to her. In fact, he could swear the lady returned the greeting and spoke a few words to the girl. Lily seemed stunned, she was probably real surprised to find a respectable lady speaking to her. She replied and then the lady kept on walking. Was she a fake? Maybe he should warn someone the first lady to respond to their advert for virtuous young ladies didn’t seem to mind talking to saloon girls.

  Erin kept walking wondering how far the boarding house could be. The girl she had asked said it was a couple of houses down on the right. Would it have a sign outside? Maybe the cowboy would catch up with her in time. She didn’t fancy arriving at the wrong door.

  A loud bang followed by a horrific wailing scream pierced the air. “That came from the direction of the mill,” Mick said. “Someone go fetch Doc and Mrs. Grey.”

  “Please show me where the mill is,” Erin said.

  “Not now, ma’am. Wouldn’t be right to bring a lady.”

  “I am not a lady. I am a doctor and judging by the sounds of those screams, my skills are needed.” Erin moved quickly in the direction of the screams, leaving Mick standing behind her with his mouth open.

  A doctor? He’d thought she was one of the new girls Mrs. Grey was bringing to Clover Springs.

  Mick ran after Erin. Grabbing her elbow, he half pulled half pushed her along until they reached the mill. The sight was not pleasant.

  “Pa was trying to fix the blade but somehow it turned on. I tried to turn it off but...it took a few seconds.”

  “Get the child out of here. Make sure he gets a warm drink and someone put a blanket around him after they wash him.” Erin was examining the adult while issuing instructions. Nobody moved. “Don’t just stand around gaping at me. I am a doctor. Do what I say.”

  Mick recognized Mrs. Larkin who was a mother of ten. She moved forward putting her arm around the young lad’s shoulders. “Come with me, Max, we will get you cleaned up while the doc looks after your pa.”

  “I don’t want to leave him. He needs me.”

  “Your ma will need you too. I think Wilma may have been making cookies. Let's go find out.”

  Mrs. Larkin led the child away. Erin was kneeling down beside Mr. Hofmeister.

  “Where's Doc?” Daniel Sullivan's white face showed his panic.

  “He's out at the Rankin place. Won't be back for hours. Mrs. Grey is following behind. Mrs. Shipley stayed at the clinic.

  “Where is the clinic?” Erin asked.

  “A couple of blocks down the street. We will have to carry him.” The men moved forward but Erin stopped them.

  “Don’t touch him.”

  “Lady, if we don't get Hofmeister to the clinic he will die.”

  “If you move him, he will bleed to death in seconds.” Erin opened Mr. Hofmeister shirt and appeared to listen to his breathing. “Mr. Hofmeister can you hear me? We are going to do everything to help you. Please stay calm. I am going to give you something for the pain.”

  Mr. Hofmeister didn't reply. Erin reached into her bag.

  “Thank God you are here, Mrs. Grey. This young lady won't let us move Hans. She says we will kill him.”

  “She's right.” Mrs. Grey assessed the scene quickly. “I am a nurse. What can I do?”

  Erin sent her a grateful look.

  “Thankfully, he missed the main artery but there is a lot of blood. I need clean cloths and water to see where most of the bleeding is coming from. I could do with someone mechanical too. I have to remove the blades.”

  Mrs. Grey sent some of the women off to get bowls of water. She had brought the cloths with her. She stripped them into smaller pieces to soak up as much of the blood as she could.

  “Do you have any chloroform in the clinic?”

  Mrs. Grey nodded.

  “I think it would be kinder to put Hans asleep while we remove the blade.”

  “The risks—”

  “Are huge either way,” Erin said in a strained tone.

  Mrs. Grey stood again. “Mick, go to the clinic and ask Mrs. Shipley for the bottle of chloroform. Be careful with it.”

  “Yes, ma’am”.

  Chapter 7

  Erin wiped her head with her sleeve as the perspiration threatened to drip into her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut quickly trying to remember every bit of the lectures on amputation. She couldn't save the man's arm. He would die if she didn't take the arm off. If they were in the hospital, she would feel fairly confident. She had assisted at enough amputations but operate out here in the open? She wasn’t sure she was up to that. Especially with all these people around.

  The man, Quinn wasn’t it, returned with the chloroform. Mrs. Grey administered it to the patient who, at least now, was out of pain.

  “The arm will have to come off.” Mrs. Grey said quietly.

  Erin looked up, straight into the older woman's eyes.

  “Yes, but...”

  “You have never performed such a procedure?”

  “Not that exactly. I have assisted at a number of them but in a hospital with a proper bed and the right equipment. Not here in public.”

  “Well, we got to do the best we can. Otherwise, he will die.”

  At Erin’s look, Mrs. Grey gave her a quick pat on the hand. “If you don’t do anything he will die. If you try, he may live. Which choice do you think he would make?”

  Erin nodded while steeling herself to carry out the operation. She watched Mrs. Grey get ready as she washed her hands in one of the many bowls of hot water.

  “You have done this before, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, back in the war. Not a skill I hoped to have to use again, it has to be said.” Mrs. Grey looked grim.

  Erin hoped her hands wouldn’t start trembling. She wished the people would go away but, if anything, they had moved closer – probably wanted a better view.

  She looked around in despair, her glance caught the intense gaze of the man who had shown her to the boarding house.

  Chapter 8

  “Right people, give the doc room. Mrs. Grey won’t be able to breathe if you don't move back. Go on now, I'm sure you all have things to be doing.” Mick turned to a boy standing closest to him. “Bertram Shaw make yourself useful and go get the reverend.”

  “Is he going to die?” The hope glistening in young Shaw's eyes made Mick loo
k away.

  “I hope not, young man, now get out of here.”

  The boy ran off up the road, no doubt eager to share with his friends what was happening at the mill.

  You could have heard a pin drop on the street, it was so quiet. Well, apart from the noise of the saw. Mick, who prided himself on his steady stomach, had to walk away. He couldn’t bear the image the noise was creating in his head. It brought back awful memories of the Yankee hospital he’d been in. How could a young woman do something like that? She must have a cast iron stomach.

  He saw Mrs. Grey quickly wrap something up in a blanket. Then she got to her feet. “Mick, can you and a couple of the other men fetch a wagon so we can move Mr. Hofmeister to the clinic please. Perhaps you could find someone to clean up here before his wife sees it?”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Mick rounded up a couple of the boys and together they helped carry the unconscious man into the wagon. Mick offered his hand to the doctor to help her climb into the back. She smiled – the smile of a professional acknowledging the help but it set the hairs on the back of Mick's neck to rise. He smiled back but it was too late, she was concentrating fully on her patient once more.

  They made their way to the clinic very slowly. Mrs. Grey riding up front with Mick while the doc sat with Hofmeister.

  “Will he make it?”

  Mrs. Grey looked back at the patient before answering. “Not sure but if Hans does, you will have the doctor to thank.”

  Somehow Mick didn’t think the doctor would take kindly to his thanks. Not when he'd mistaken her for a husband seeker.

  Chapter 9

  Erin nursed the patient through the night and the next morning only taking breaks when Mrs. Grey insisted. She soon learned nobody said no to Mrs. Grey. The Clover Springs doctor didn't come back – someone said it wasn't unusual for the trip to take a few days. She wished he was here. She would have welcomed a second opinion. Mr. Hofmeister seemed to be doing all right but there was something about his condition making her wary.

 

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