Page 41 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

“But your certificate?—”

She shrugged. “I still have the knowledge.”

He kept staring at her, as if he wanted to say something more, and then he just shook his head, sighing in what she feared was resignation. “You bought your passage this morning?”

She nodded. “In steerage.”

“I’m in steerage, too. Your da and Danny bought a cabin. They’re trying to lie low.”

Maggie nodded. “They’re on board?”

“As far as I know.” He stared at her, still seeming disbelieving. “Why did you—” he began and then shook his head as the line of passengers waiting to board moved forward. “I’ll see you on deck after we’ve boarded,” he told her, and then headed down the dock to take his place in the line.

Maggie clutched her suitcase tightly as she inched forward with the others, towardCity of Pueblo. Brendan hadn’t seemed very pleased to learn she was joining them, she reflected numbly. He’d seemeddispleased, even, as if he’d have rather she didn’t go.

Maybe she should have expected it, considering the distance in their friendship. Maybe he was reluctant to feel responsible for her yet again, look out for her the way he always did. She would be at pains to be independent, Maggie resolved, even though she recognized she was woefully unprepared for whatever was ahead. She didn’t even have a proper winter coat.

Half an hour later, Maggie was on board the ship, being herded down the narrow steps to the steerage hold, in the bow. Her accommodation was one large room, bunks lining the walls, and a wooden trestle table flanked by benches that were nailed to the floor running down the middle. The floor was covered with sheets of iron that were already damp and dirty, and Maggie lifted her skirt as she watched where she stepped.

Women crowded the space, unpacking their suitcases, storing their trunks, and claiming as much space in the cramped hold as they could. Children called out, excited or fretful, babies cried, and arguments were already breaking out over bunks and who put their things where. One solid-looking woman, her hands planted on her ample hips, insisted she could not keep her three suitcases all on her berth, as everyone else was doing, but needed the floor space around her bunk, as well.

Maggie walked the length of the room before she found a lower bunk in the corner and put her one small suitcase on it. Already, the hold smelled of sweat and stale humanity, and she feared it would be a long three and a half days.

She took her turn at the basin to tidy her hair and wash her hands and then went up to the deck to look for Brendan—and say goodbye to the city she’d called home for nearly two years.

The deck was crowded with passengers eager to enjoy the fresh air while they could; Maggie had overheard that the passage up to Washington was notoriously rough, and often many were forced to stay in their berth for nearly the whole voyage. She squeezed into a spot by the railing to gaze out at the city, taking in the jumble of warehouses and tenements that lined the crowded waterfront, the steep streets rising to the hills above, the morning mist evaporating to reveal a spring sky of pale blue.

Another farewell, she thought, and found to her surprise that she was not as sad as she expected to be, although she was still anxious about what lay ahead. She knew she would miss her work at the hospital, although she was hopeful she might find some kind of nursing position in Alaska. As for the people she was leaving behind… most of them had already gone. Philip and Adelaide, Wilhemina, even Jenny… they’d all slipped out of her life, or were about to, before she’d boarded this ship.

Maybe, Maggie reflected, she’d chosen to come to Alaska not just because she wanted to be with her family, but because she wanted something more for herself. It was a better thought than that she’d simply run away out of fear or made a mistake. Maybe she wasn’t as different from her da as she’d always thought, and just like him, some part of her hankered after the wide blue skies of adventure. Maggie’s hands tightened on the railing as she lifted her chin to let the sea breeze cool her heated cheeks.

“There you are,” Brendan said as he came to stand beside her on the crowded deck, his hands resting on the railing as they both looked out at the harbor. “It’s a madhouse down there. I was worried I wouldn’t get a bunk.”

“It seems a lot of people want to go to Alaska,” Maggie agreed. She slid him a sideways glance, trying to gauge his mood. He’d seemed so surprised and maybe even displeased before, when he’d realized she was coming with them to Alaska. Was he finally starting to accept her presence?

“Or at least Washington,” Brendan replied. “We’ll need to take another steamer to get all the way to Alaska, from Port Townsend.”

“I don’t even know the route,” Maggie admitted. She barely knew anything about the journey or even the destination besides what little Brendan had already told her. Again, she was struck by the recklessness of her own actions, and yet despite the anxiety swirling in her stomach, she couldn’t regret her decision. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps in time she would.

“From Port Townsend to Victoria and then Fort Wrangell, and finally Juneau.”

“Juneau…” The name was familiar, but still felt foreign. “That’s where we’re going?”

Brendan nodded. “For now, anyway. I don’t know what kind of place it is—there’s a big hard rock gold mine there, and I’ve heard the weather is more temperate than it is in other places inAlaska, but as for how rough it is, the kind of people…” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “I think it will be quite different than any of the other places we’ve been. It might take some getting used to, you know?”

“I’m sure,” Maggie murmured, although, in truth, she couldn’t imagine it at all. All she knew about Alaska was that it was wild and vast… and cold. Although, according to Brendan, maybe not in Juneau. “And what are you hoping to do there?” she asked. “You said there were business opportunities?”

“I don’t know,” Brendan admitted. He braced his forearms on the railing as he stared out at the waterfront, his gaze narrowed against the glare of the morning sun, the wind ruffling his hair. “Truth be told, I came as much to get away as to goto.I just… I needed to escape from it all.”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing further, so Maggie could see the crow’s feet fanning them in a way that was not unattractive. He was thirty now, and the roundness of his face had hardened into a lean cheek and chiseled jaw. There was a toughness to him that hadn’t been there before, perhaps from his years escorting unruly guests from Miss Jessie’s. It suited him, she thought.

“Do you mean the parlor house?” Maggie asked hesitantly. “You wanted to leave it behind?” She braced herself, afraid of what else he might say.

Brendan kept his gaze on the waterfront. “That, I suppose, but…” He blew out a long, low breath. “Ever since we left New York, I’ve been drifting in one way or another. I haven’t settled to anything, I haven’t found a wayforward…” He raised one hand to knuckle his forehead. “And I thought maybe in Alaska… it could be different.Icould be different.”

Maggie regarded him uncertainly; he sounded soresigned, as if he had decided he couldn’t be different even before they’d gotten there, when they hadn’t even left the harbor.

“Youcanbe different, Brendan,” she told him. “We all can.”