A Bride for Donnigan by Janette Oke

his chair, so close to Kathleen that she feared they would bump knees. She drew back in her seat as far as she could.
    “And are you feeling quite well now, my dear?” he asked solicitously.
    Kathleen assured him that she was fine.
    “You are such a delicate little thing,” he said smoothly, “that I feared for you on this arduous journey.”
    “I’m stronger than I look, sir,” Kathleen responded a bit curtly.
    He nodded and changed the subject. “We dock this afternoon.”
    Kathleen nodded her head.
    “I was hoping that we would have some time to—to enjoy each other’s company on the voyage, but the heavy seas—”
    Kathleen shifted uncomfortably and broke in. “I’m anxious to hear where I’ll be going, sir,” she dared to say.
    “Oh yes.” He came back to attention and placed his hands on his knees. “Well—that, my dear, is still a matter of concern for me, as well.”
    Kathleen did wish that he would stop calling her his dear.
    “As a matter of fact,” he went on, “it has still not been decided.”
    Kathleen frowned.
    “Oh, never fear,” he said reaching to take her hand. “You will have a place, I can assure you. Even if I have to take care of you myself.” He winked and grinned and Kathleen felt terribly annoyed.
    “Why am I here?” she asked boldly. “Why make an appointment just to tell me that there have been no arrangements?”
    “There have been arrangements,” he said, and reached to give his mustache a twitch. “I would like you to take dinner with me tonight at my hotel. I’m staying at a rather elegant place downtown. I think you will like it. Perhaps without the tossing of the sea we will have better opportunity to—”
    “That is unthinkable,” said Kathleen, standing to her full five feet two inches. Her face flamed with her disgust. “I will stay with the others—wherever they are staying.”
    His face grew dark with anger. “You are a proud one, aren’t you!” he spat at her. “And after all I’ve tried to do.”
    “Sure now, and I was of the impression that my passage was paid by an American gentleman,” Kathleen reminded him heatedly.
    “Yes, Miss,” said the man, his anger now matching her own. “And he shall have you—pity him, whoever he is. I wouldn’t want to deal with such a temper every day for the rest of my life.”
    Kathleen spun on her heel and left the room.
    “Stay with the others,” he called after her. “I want you around to take the orders of where you are to go.”
    Kathleen didn’t answer. She needed to get into the wind to cool off her hot cheeks.
    But she would be there when it was time to find out where she would be going. And she hoped with all her heart that it was a long, long way from Boston and Mr. Jenks.

    There was much commotion when the ship finally pulled in and docked in Boston Harbor. The women milled around, squealing and shouting and clutching belongings. Kathleen crowded close to her cabin mates, her dark eyes big, her face pale. As crowded as the cabin had been, she wished for just a few more days of feeling secure there.
    Their names were called out and they walked the gangway by groups of four. As her feet touched the firm dock, Kathleen nearly lost her balance. Erma, close beside her, giggled.
    They were all placed into carriages and taken through the streets to a large hotel. It felt strange to be back in a city again. Kathleen noticed that it was much newer, much cleaner, than her familiar section of London. She wondered if it would be possible for her to stay on here. She felt a drawing to this new American city. A feeling that she might soon be able to “belong” here.
    But the very next day they were called to a drawing room where Mr. Jenks presided.
    “Ladies—we are about to the end of our journey together,” he informed them as though this were a matter of deep sorrow to all. “You will be heading west—to one point or another. From here to Chicago you will share a train. There you will be