six
Zoe stared at the plain wooden coffin as the men lowered it into the gaping hole. Slowly the ground swallowed her friend, taking her away forever. Though Zoe’s chest ached with the need to sob, her eyes remained dry, probably because she’d already shed all the tears her body held. The past two sleepless nights with Violet had given her too much time to cry over the loss of Jane.
Violet grunted, and Zoe automatically began to rock the babe. She certainly didn’t want the babe wailing now, not with all the other women around mourning for Dora and Jane. Most were already irritated enough that the babe woke them at night with her noises. They’d only complain all the louder if Violet disturbed them again.
If Zoe had ever entertained the idea of living at the Marine Barracks with Violet, she’d quickly tossed it aside. Not only were her bride-ship companions grumbling, but the ladies from the welcoming committee were too—all except Mrs. Moresby, who’d been kind enough to collect donations of baby clothing, infant napkins, blankets, and more.
Zoe had reassured everyone she’d soon be married and would take Violet away from the Marine Barracks.
Today. She’d find a man today. In fact, earlier, as she’d walked to the cemetery, she’d made a point of spreading the word that she was looking for a husband. Surely when she returned to the Marine Barracks she’d have a line of fellas waiting to meet her.
Zoe had tried not to let her gaze stray toward Pastor Abe during the ceremony. She had no doubt he’d overheard her announcement when she’d arrived. And she’d kept her attention on the coffins so she didn’t have to chance seeing his disapproval.
He had no reason to be upset with her decision. She’d agreed to wait until after the funeral. He couldn’t expect her to put off a wedding indefinitely, could he? Especially since he hadn’t been able to locate Herman. He’d kept her up-to-date on his progress each evening when he came to check on Violet. He’d been kind enough to continue his visits and clearly took his responsibilities for the infant seriously.
Though he hadn’t admonished Zoe again regarding her efforts to find a husband, she’d sensed his caution, and she understood the need to be careful about getting into a potentially bad marriage. She’d seen her fair share of unhappy situations in the slums.
Like Pastor Abe, the welcoming committee had assured the bride-ship women that they needn’t hurry, that they could take time to be properly courted by their suitors. But people married for convenience all the time. Some people got lucky and developed affection for each other, and some people didn’t. If love never came for her, she’d make the best of it.
Besides, did love really matter? All the people she’d loved had either left or died. Maybe she’d be better off if she didn’t allow herself to love again. Maybe a marriage of convenience to a complete stranger was exactly what she needed to keep from giving her heart away only to have it crushed.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen,” Pastor Abe concluded, making the motion of the cross. Even today, having changed out of his casual attire into a dark suit and clerical collar, he still didn’t look like any reverend she’d ever seen. She couldn’t figure out why, except that he was simply too handsome.
A murmuring of amens came from around the graveside followed by the thud of dirt hitting the coffins as the gravedigger and his apprentice shoveled from the waiting pile. The others took that as their cue to step back and give the men room to work. Even Pastor Abe began to walk away and was immediately flocked by several of the bride-ship women who’d made a point of noticing and speaking to him whenever he came to visit the Marine Barracks. After he left, they giggled and whispered over him like schoolgirls instead of grown women.
Zoe couldn’t make her feet move. Instead, she stared at the dark opening as the damp scent of earth rose up. The weather was warmer and balmier, the cold nip gone. Though the sky was overcast with low gray clouds, the rain had held off during the funeral. And now it was sprinkling, finally shedding tears upon the departed.
Good-bye, Jane, she said silently. You were a dear, heaven-sent friend when I most needed one. Thank you. I will never forget you.
The clacking and whirring of the looms reverberated in Zoe’s head, the noise that had been their constant companion every day from before dawn until after dusk. She could see the floating pieces of cotton in the dusty haze that filled the cardroom, the same dust that eventually filled Mum’s lungs, and Jane’s, and the lungs of countless other mill women, who were hired on for half the pay of men. The long hours, the stifling air, the dim lighting, the dangerous machinery that easily caught fingers and hair—at the time they’d considered themselves lucky to have work. But had it really been worth it?
Zoe stood for several more long moments, an ache pulsing through her. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end for Jane. This wasn’t what they’d dreamed about during the voyage over. They’d both wanted to find husbands with good jobs that didn’t involve weaving or textiles. They’d planned to be neighbors and help each other when their babies came along. They wanted to have better lives here in this new land, free from the sickness that ran rampant in the Manchester slums.
“Miss?” said someone from close behind.
She turned to find a man holding his hat in his hands and watching her expectantly. Of medium build, he was stocky and rugged with his brown hair slicked back and beard neatly trimmed.
“Rumor has it you’re wanting to find your brother. Man by the name of Zeke Hart.”
Ever since the true culprits of the mill fire had been caught, she’d been bursting with the need to find Zeke and set him free from the guilt and heartache that had forced him to run away from Manchester. Everyone now knew he’d been accused of a crime he hadn’t committed and that he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of the mill workers. He was a free man. She wouldn’t be able to rest until she told him the news. “Aye. He’s my twin. Do you know him?”
“I know a fella who goes by Jeremiah Hart. You share a family resemblance.”
Jeremiah Hart? Was it possible Zeke had changed his name as an extra precaution? It made sense. And it also made sense that he would have taken the name of his best friend—Jeremiah Millington.
The man perused her again, taking her in from her scarf-covered head down to her muddy boots. His gaze hesitated on Violet before landing on Zoe’s face, a slow smile forming. “Yep, just what I remembered. You’re the pretty one.”
He remembered her? From when she’d come ashore? She studied his face again. Aye, he was the cocky man who’d tugged at her scarf and cloak and made lewd comments about her body and how he wouldn’t mind having her warm his bed this winter.
She scowled.
He tossed back his head and laughed. “Good. I see you remember me now too.”
“Not willingly.”
He laughed again. “I like you.”
“What do you want?” The others were drifting farther away, and she needed to join them. Also, she needed to get Violet out of the drizzle.
“Heard you’re looking to get married right away, and I’m here to tell you that I’m the man you want to marry.”
Her sights narrowed on him. “And why would I want to marry you?”
“You did say you want a man who can take you to your brother, right?”
She could feel Zeke’s pendant in her pocket weighing ever heavier with each passing day. “That’s right. But how do I know this Jeremiah Hart is really my brother?”
“Like I said, you look alike—same black hair and green eyes.”
“I’m sure that could apply to lots of fellas.”
“It’s obvious you’re twins.”
Aye, even though Zeke was bigger and broader and masculine in every sense of the word, they shared similar features, even down to having the same dimples. Was it possible she’d found Zeke? That this man could take her to him? For the first time since she’d arrived in Victoria, anticipation leapt to life inside her.
“Do you know where my brother is?”
“Yep. He’s up in the Williamsville area doing real well for himself. I know the way up the canyon. Traveled the route more times than most miners.”
“Then you’re a miner?”
His grin inched higher, almost as if he thought the question was funny. “I’ve made a sizeable fortune so far.”
A sizeable fortune? “Then you can support and take care of a wife and child?” She let her sights drop to Violet and stroked the babe’s back.
“I don’t want Herman Cox’s half-breed.”
Zoe’s head snapped up. “Then I don’t want you.” She spun and started to stalk away.
“Hold on now.” His footsteps pounded the earth behind her, and his hand closed around her upper arm, halting her.
She was tempted to jerk free and continue on. But this man knew Zeke’s whereabouts and was willing to take her there.
He spun her around and gentled his hold. “I’ll build you a house in Williamsville. A real big fancy one.” His expression was earnest.
A real big fancy house? She’d always lived with her family in rented rooms in one tenement or another in Manchester. And the possibility of finally having a house—no matter the size—sent a thrill through her. It was just what she and Jane had talked about. But she also wanted Violet. “I’m obliged to take care of this little one.”
“Let someone else be responsible for the babe.”
“Herman gave her to me. And now I have the chance to do her some good and give her a better life.”
The miner hesitated.
Would all the fellas feel the same way about Violet as this one? Zoe hadn’t considered the possibility that having a babe would limit the number of men who might be willing to marry her. With so many wanting wives, she’d thought she’d have no trouble. But what if she couldn’t find anyone to take her with the babe?
A sliver of anxiety worked its way under her skin. “I promise Violet won’t be any trouble.”
He stared at the outline of the babe within the bundle of blankets. “What if I find Rose’s relatives? And what if they’re willing to provide a home for the babe?”
“Herman said he already tried to find them and that they’re all dead.”
The man scoffed. “Herman’s a lazy drunk. He wouldn’t be able to find his face in a mirror.”
“Then you think Violet might still have family somewhere?”
“I’ve got connections. If Rose still has family, I’ll find them.”
Zoe wasn’t sure whether to be worried or happy about the prospect. ’Course, the babe deserved to have family raise her—especially if they were a loving family.
Yet Herman had all but given Violet to her, hadn’t he? Perhaps God had even ordained their meeting. After all, she’d still been at the hospital when Herman had come. And Pastor Abe had been there at the right moment too. Besides, she was experienced with infants and knew just the kind of care Violet required. How many other women would have been willing or able to take the babe? It was almost as if God knew she needed the babe as much as the babe needed her. Just when she’d been experiencing loss, new life had been dropped into her lap.
Whatever the case, she wasn’t planning to give Violet up. Not yet.
As if sensing her resolve, the miner released her and stepped back. “I’m giving you a good offer. Why don’t you take some time today to think on it?”
“Why don’t you think about the fact that if you want me, then you’ll have to want the babe?”
He grinned. “I’ll do that. You just might be worth it.”
As he walked away, she exhaled slowly, releasing the tension. She watched him join a couple other men, exchange a few words, and then laugh as they ambled away.
Maybe he wasn’t exactly handsome. But he was decent looking and could provide for her. Best of all, he could help her find Zeke. That’s all she needed in a man. Wasn’t it?
A clearing throat startled her.
She spun to find Pastor Abe holding his Bible and prayer book against his chest. A scowl marred his handsome face as he stared in the direction of the miner who’d been speaking with her. “What were you talking about with Dexter Dawson?”
Dexter Dawson? Her face flushed with the realization that she’d practically agreed to marry a man whose name she hadn’t known. Was she really so desperate?
The truth was, she didn’t care what his name was. It was irrelevant in the bigger scheme of things. More important was that he might be willing to take care of both her and Violet.
“He asked me to marry him.”
“He what?” Pastor Abe seemed to choke on the words.
“He said he’d marry me and take me to my brother.”
Pastor Abe stepped closer, his brow furrowing even deeper. “You can’t marry Dexter Dawson.”
“Why not? He promised to build me a house and said he had a sizeable fortune.”
“Because he’s a crook.”
She scowled. “You’re saying that to discourage me, because you don’t think I should get married yet.”
“I don’t agree with hasty marriages—that’s true. But it’s also true that Dexter Dawson is not an honest, law-abiding man.”
“He looks normal enough.”
“He’s not innocent or normal. He’s dangerous and steals gold from the expressmen and caravans coming down out of the mountains.”
She paused at the accusation and glanced at Dexter’s retreating form. He had the confident swagger of a man who thought too much of himself. But he’d given her no reason to believe he was a dangerous crook. “If he’s such a bad criminal, then why isn’t he in jail?”
“Because he hasn’t been caught in the act.”
“So there’s no solid proof he’s doing the stealing?”
Pastor Abe drew in a breath, whispered something that sounded like a prayer, then spoke calmly. “Miss Hart, you must believe me that Dexter Dawson isn’t the type of man you want for a husband.”
Pastor Abe had gone out of his way to be helpful even when he had nothing to gain in return. Why would he lie to her about Dexter Dawson?
Violet stretched her legs and then released a squeak—one Zoe had learned signaled hunger. She hefted the babe, switching arms. Even though the wee one was just a wisp of a babe at four months of age, Zoe ached from holding her almost nonstop.
“I need to be going,” Zoe said. “Violet is due for another feeding soon.”
“Do you have enough milk? If not, I’ll make sure to have more sent over.”
“Aye, Pastor, she’s getting her fill and is the happier for it.”
Pastor Abe leaned in and peeked at Violet’s face beneath the blanket. “She looks content. Much more so than the first day Herman brought her in.”
Violet’s lips puckered with another cry, and Zoe shifted the infant’s hand to her mouth, helping her find her thumb to suck. “She’s doing much better. And that’s exactly why I’ll be keeping her.”
Pastor Abe released a long sigh. “You can’t—”
“If Dexter’s willing to have me with the babe, then I’ll marry him. And if he doesn’t want Violet, then I’ll find a husband who does.”
Without waiting for him to argue with her further, she strode away, her boots squishing in the wet grass. She half expected him to follow and continue trying to talk her out of her decision. But when she glanced back at him a moment later, he’d already turned and was walking away in the opposite direction.
A strange sense of disappointment slowed her steps. She wasn’t sure why it should matter that Pastor Abe had given up so easily. That’s what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? For him to stop protesting and let her have her way with Violet?
’Course she wouldn’t marry Dexter if he really was a criminal. That wouldn’t give her or Violet the kind of life she wanted. But she’d find someone willing enough to have her and the babe. Surely in this land filled with marriage-hungry men she’d latch on to at least one ready to take a bride of convenience.
“Sorry, miss.” The young fella rose from his chair, buttoning his coat. “I’d marry you today—tonight—but I’m not interested in getting a child in the bargain.”
Zoe swallowed her discouragement. He was the last of the callers, and his response had been typical of all the rest.
He put on his hat and tipped up the brim, his eyes still eager. “If you change your mind, let me know, and I’ll be back here putting a ring on your finger before you can blink.” He paused as though giving her the chance to change her mind right then and there.
She considered telling him he could take his ring and shove it in a pig’s snout. But she’d already spoken enough choice words for one day. And she was weary.
When she didn’t respond, the young man gave a polite nod and then exited. A moment later, the front door of the Marine Barracks closed firmly. The quiet in the hallway confirmed he’d been the final suitor. Zoe stood in the center of the room unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare at the open doorway.
The darkening sky hinted at evening. The day was coming to a close. And she was still woefully unattached.
Had she been mistaken to insist on keeping Violet?
“She’s awake.” Mrs. Moresby appeared in the doorway, holding the babe and smiling down at her.
With wide eyes, Violet stared at the giant silk butterflies that adorned Mrs. Moresby’s hat. She reached up as though to grab one, and Mrs. Moresby used the opportunity to kiss the babe’s outstretched hand.
“Guess I need a hat like yours.” Zoe shook herself out of her melancholy. “Seems to be working wonders for Violet.”
“I’m the wonder-worker.” The giant of a woman made eyes at the babe.
Zoe smiled in spite of herself. “You’ve been a godsend, Mrs. Moresby—”
“Velva.”
Zoe couldn’t get used to the familiarity of calling the gentlewoman by her given name. It didn’t seem right, even after Mrs. Moresby had shared about her humble past when she’d been a maidservant for a wealthy Victoria family.
Mrs. Moresby seated herself in the chair the young man had just occupied, all the while cooing at Violet.
“Thank you for watching Violet during my meetings.”
“From the sounds of things, you didn’t have any takers?”
“None.”
“That’s a shame. A man couldn’t ask for two prettier girls than you and Violet.”
Zoe lowered herself to the chair opposite Mrs. Moresby and sat on the edge. She reached for the ball of soft white lamb’s wool yarn and her knitting needles that sat in the basket she’d brought with her into the sitting room. She was halfway done with the baby blanket. Was it really worth her effort? Maybe she should have continued knitting mittens for her friends instead.
“Am I making a mistake in keeping Violet?” She voiced the question that had been clamoring louder with each passing rejection.
All her friends at the Marine Barracks had told her to give the babe back to Pastor Abe and let him find a home for the child. They didn’t understand why she wanted Violet. At times, Zoe didn’t understand either, especially when the infant awoke crying at night.
Now with the difficulty in finding a man who would be willing to marry her with Violet, maybe she was asking for the impossible.
Mrs. Moresby sat up and leveled a look at Zoe. “Do you want my honest opinion?”
“’Course.” Zoe braced herself for one more person telling her she needed to let go of the native babe.
“There are a lot of abandoned and unwanted children in this world. And not enough people willing to love and care for them.”
Zoe agreed. She’d experienced that firsthand with her sister’s abandoning Eve.
“If God places within you a desire to take care of helpless and unwanted orphans, then I’d say you can’t ignore His calling.”
“His calling?”
“The good Lord calls us all to serve Him in one way or another. Most of the time we’re too focused on what we want to pay attention to what He’s asking of us.”
Zoe was guilty of that. She’d always believed callings were for ministers or missionaries. But what if God had something special for everyone to do?
“Sometimes we want to know the whole plan and how it will work out before we agree to start,” Mrs. Moresby continued. “But all we can do is take one step at a time, one day at a time, as He leads us along.”
“Then you’re saying I should keep Violet?”
“I’m saying that since you have such deep compassion for this orphan, then you best take care of her for as long as God leads you to do so.”
Zoe reclined in her chair, a strange sense of peace settling over her and chasing away her tension. Aye, she loved babies. And she had deep compassion for orphans. Was it possible God had plans to use her not only for Violet, but for others?
The very thought seemed presumptuous. After all, she was a poor, simple mill worker. She had no way to take care of herself, much less this babe or any other. But maybe Mrs. Moresby was right. Maybe all God required was a willing heart and the trust that He’d work out the rest of the details in His timing and in His way.
A thumping on the front door startled Zoe, and she dropped the half-finished baby blanket into her lap.
Violet released a cry, and Mrs. Moresby’s brows rose. “Are you expecting someone else tonight?”
“That was it. Unless Pastor Abe’s coming to check on Violet.”
Mrs. Moresby sat up straighter. “That Pastor Abe is quite the handsome man.”
“Aye.” Zoe pictured him as he’d looked solemnly reciting from the book of prayers at the funeral. “I can’t argue with you there.”
“Too bad he’s practically engaged to a woman from his home back in Yorkshire.”
Zoe hadn’t realized he was engaged. Part of her fought against the same disappointment she’d experienced when he’d walked away from her after the funeral. But at the same time, she had no reason to feel anything. They’d been thrust together in their quest to save Violet. That was all.
Footsteps in the hallway drew nearer. A knock on the door was followed by Kate holding out a folded note. “A message came for you, Zoe.”
Zoe rose and crossed to the pretty young woman, eyeing the slip of paper. Who was sending her a message? As she took the sheet and opened it to a note, all she saw was Dexter Dawson’s name scrawled at the bottom. She didn’t need to read his message to know what he’d decided.
He’d agreed to marry her in spite of his reservations about Violet.
The question was, did she want to marry him? After Pastor Abe’s warning, she’d tried to gather more information. From the little she was able to discover, Dexter seemed harmless enough and well liked. The constable at the gate wasn’t familiar with the name and said not to let one rumor stop her, since the miners liked to exaggerate their tales.
She smoothed out the sheet and traced Dexter’s name with her finger. What if he was one more step in God’s plans for her? If marrying him would allow her to carry out God’s calling to care for Violet, then how could she turn down his offer?