Far Away Home (7 page)

Aislynn’s body
sighed, and she placed her free hand on his cheek, “No, you wouldn’t. It’s not
in you.”

He released her.
Johnny glared at Aislynn while his tongue rubbed his back teeth. With
bitterness, he asked, “So, you’re goin’ to Tim?”

“No, I’m going
to get work.”

“You don’t need
work, Aislynn. I’d support you.”

Aislynn leaned
toward him, her eyes narrowed, “And what if you can’t? What if we have babies,
and you die like my Da? I can’t support myself. How could I feed babies, too?
I’d wind up in Five Points Slum, living on the street with nothing to eat.”

“I’m not goin’
to die.”

“I’m sure your
father didn’t plan it any more than mine did. Go ask your mother how it’s been
for her. Ask her what kind of a life she’s had, taking in strangers, washing
and ironing ‘til she can’t stand straight anymore. It’s not the life for me.”
Once she spoke the words, she realized why she was so drawn to the West. Of
course she would be with Tim, but the West held the very thing Brendan longed
for his whole life, the thing he had wanted for Aislynn and her children, the
opportunity to be free and independent.

He stood and
scowled at her. His face grew so red she thought it was expanding. Grabbing his
cap and his jacket, he stomped out the door. She heard the street door slam and
listened to his footsteps bang on the stairs. Aislynn thought she would feel
freer when Johnny walked out of her life, relieved of the pressure to marry
him, but she felt sad, sorry and empty.

She cared for
Johnny and wished they had parted as friends
.
Consolation came from
believing she would soon be with Tim and all these bad feelings would be
forgotten.

Papa Nolan gave
her his bed, and he slept in the parlor with the boys. With the different
sounds, the strange bed and her thoughts tormenting her, she lay awake. The
words of Tim’s letters and those of the Wild West dime novels flitted through
her mind, and she believed she could not make the trip alone. Unbidden, the
advice of the Holladay clerk came to her mind, feeding her fear of the dangers.
Following on its heels, the dogs of hell barked, “What if Tim can’t take you in
or won’t?” Then, there was Johnny. The picture of his hurt face hung before
her.

Aislynn invoked
her father, begging for guidance or a sign. She lay still in the dark, waiting
and listening with her eyes wide as the windows rattled and the men snored.
Outside, she could hear the wind blowing off the Hudson River and coursing
through Worth Street. Peeking through the curtain, she saw a funnel, full of
ashes, dirt, bits of brightly colored paper and last autumn’s leaves swirling
until it exhausted itself and rested on the road. Aislynn woke to the sun and
read the confident rays as a portent that anything was possible.

After the Nolans
were sent off to work, she sat down to write them a letter of explanation.
Aislynn wanted them to believe she was doing the right thing, but in writing,
her reasoning seemed weak, and she began to waver. She hung her head in her
hands and told herself to decide, now, without equivocation, to go or to stay.

As she reached
for a coin to toss, a soft knock landed on the door. She responded with, “Come
in.”

Johnny walked
into the kitchen wearing a small grin.

Aislynn bounded
out of her chair and grabbed his hands. “I’m glad you came. I didn’t want us to
part in anger.”

“I don’t want us
to part at all.” He leaned over her and whispered in her ear, “I love you.”

Aislynn pulled
back and smiled, “I know.” She chewed her lip and squirmed in her place, “Do
you want to kiss me goodbye?”

“I’d never pass
up the chance to kiss you.”

He pulled her
close and placed one hand in her hair and the other low on her back. While he
kissed her, his hand slid further down her back until it cupped her buttock.
She began to feel a slight thrill until he pressed her forward and she felt his
response to their proximity. Aislynn broke away from him and moved behind her
chair. She admonished him, “It’s a good thing I am leaving, Johnny Maher. You
take too many liberties.”

Johnny’s eyes
fixed on hers, and he pulled the chair away. His hands shot out. With his
fingers firmly encircling her arms, he pulled her to him saying, “Guess I’m
goin’ to keep takin’ them, because I’m not lettin’ you leave me.”

Chapter 7

Fear flowed
through Aislynn. He tightened his grip, and his breath brushed her face.
Instinct ruled and she twisted away. Squaring off, she demanded, “What are you
up to?”

“I’m goin’ with
you.”

Aislynn
vacillated, trying to decide if this was good news or bad news.

As she searched
for a response, Johnny continued, “My mother says you’re right; a woman should
have a good job, be able to support herself and her family.”

Aislynn was
thrilled Mrs. Maher understood and sympathized with her position.

He explained,
“She said for you to start a business, and she and Kathleen will come and work
for you when you need help.”

Aislynn silently
beamed under Mrs. Maher’s approval.

Johnny stepped
to her and touched her cheek. “I figured it must mean a lot if you’re willin’
to take such risks.” Johnny shrugged, “If this is what you want, I should help
you reach your goal. I want you to be happy, Angel.”

Aislynn felt
stunned. Guilt tingled through her nerves. She realized she did not deserve
Johnny’s adoration but could not let it go, either.

Aislynn finished
her letter and placed it on the kitchen table. Johnny dragged her trunk down
the stairs while Aislynn gathered her valise and her carpetbag. She stood for a
moment in front of her apartment door and said goodbye to the empty hall.

The drayman took
them and their belongings to the Pavonia Ferry at the foot of Chambers Street.
As they cruised to New Jersey, sunlit waves flashed like mirrors in their eyes.
Aislynn had only been out of New York City once. On the first warm day
following her eighth birthday, Tim took her to Brooklyn, to the end of the
omnibus line. It stopped at a deserted, wooden platform built along the road.
They followed the boards until they ended in the sand. Removing their shoes,
they climbed a small knoll. At the summit, Tim spread his arms and declared,
“Aislynn Denehy, my ward and lady fair, I give you the Atlantic Ocean.”

The memory made
her smile. Johnny felt her mood. He took her hand and squeezed it. When she
looked up at him wistfully, his eyes widened and his brows rose. He took her
right hand and slid the Claddagh ring off her finger, turned it around and
pushed it back into place with the heart pointing toward hers. “I’m givin’ you
a year. Whether you’re successful or not, we’re married in one year.”

A subtle sinking
feeling sat in her stomach.
I should have expected him to place conditions
on me; men always do.
She looked at her hand and gave him a nod.
A great
deal can happen in a year.

The ferry bumped
the pier and docked. They hurried off to the Long Dock Depot, a vast, vaulted
structure open to the river on the east side and to the rails radiating on the
west side. At the ticket counter, they purchased continuous emigrant passage to
Cheyenne. Aislynn pressed the ticket to her breast and felt a rush of
confidence. The clerk advised them to claim seats. He explained the Union
Pacific Railroad was pushing westward and dozens of men were traveling to
Cheyenne daily to sign on to the construction crews.

They captured a
double, cane-covered seat. Johnny thrust their three bags onto the wrought iron
shelves hanging from the row of sleeping berths situated over their heads.
Aislynn sat next to the window, and Johnny wedged in next to her, his broad
body consuming more than his half of the bench. Happy to be on her way and
feeling secure with Johnny present, she hugged his arm and rubbed her cheek
against his shoulder. It was a shameless public display of affection, but she
did not know any of her fellow passengers and looking at them, judged she would
not care about their opinions. Aislynn knew the act would make him happy, and
she wanted to reward him for rescuing her from her fears. “You can still go
home,” she suggested.

He leaned his
head toward hers, “Aislynn, I’m close enough to feel your heart beat; do you
think there’s any place in the world I’d rather be?”

The train full
of excited people pulled out of Jersey City at 8:00 P.M. Children bounced in
their seats and ran in the aisles while women chatted and the men roared. Smoke
from the passengers’ cigars and pipes filled the closed car and made the scene
dreamlike as the train bumped and swayed to the grinding tune its wheels
hummed.

At this hour,
the window’s view offered mostly darkness, with the exception of small pools of
light distorted by the film of dirt coating the glass inside and out. Those
lights soon faded as the train snaked south to Philadelphia. This leg of the
trip would take five hours but Aislynn was determined to stay awake to see the
city.

As the iron
wheels rolled, she and Johnny planned their trip. They discussed their funds
and found they had close to a thousand dollars. “With a thousand dollars, we
could have stayed in New York and built a smithy and a house, or at least a
part of one,” he said.

Aislynn frowned,
“What good is part of a house?” She shook her head. “I’d better handle the
finances,” she declared. They decided to travel as cheaply as possible, hoping
to have money left when they arrived in Utah. Sleeping on the trains and on the
stages, driving straight through would save time and money. Johnny’s agreement
with all of her suggestions satisfied Aislynn.

Philadelphia was
a blur of dim lights. After fifteen minutes in the station, the train slid into
the darkness of the Pennsylvania night. Johnny leaned his head back against the
seat and started to snore. Aislynn studied her fellow emigrants and decided
they were unsavory. Every time the man behind them exhaled, the smell of garlic
drifted into Aislynn’s nose. The thought of breathing his air made her cringe.
She covered her nose with her silk handkerchief and slid closer to Johnny.
Leaning against him she felt secure; she closed her eyes and thanked God for
sending him to her.

Every stop and
start jolted Aislynn. She fell into a deep sleep somewhere in the heart of
Pennsylvania. When she woke, the sun hung behind the train, and the view
outside their window hinted at a very un-New York City terrain. Budding bushes
and branches reached toward the track. The train climbed hills and passed
through tunnels of trees broken by cliffs of rock or bridges over rivers and
streams. As the sun rose, they moved into flatter land, where brown fields
stretched before them, long and undulating, meeting the sky. Farms flanked them
into Ohio.

By evening, the
odors exuded by the people in the car were making Aislynn sick. She and Johnny
bundled in their coats and walked to the sheltered platform between the cars.
Johnny carried Aislynn’s small valise and turning it on its side, created a
seat for her. He leaned against the door while Aislynn sat. Steam, ash and rock
dust billowed around them, but Aislynn preferred the debris and the cold to the
smells in the car.

They passed the
night in discomfort. Aislynn tried to sleep curled on the seat while Johnny
squeezed onto the floor below. They ran out of the food Aislynn had packed at
home and had to run off the train during one fifteen minute stop to grab coffee
and sandwiches. The prices and the poor quality rankled Aislynn. She felt
filthy and tired and hungry. By the time the train pulled into Chicago, she
told Johnny she needed a real meal, hot bath and a night in a bed.

People swarmed
through the vast Chicago station. It was massive stone building with a grand
dome rising over a broad marble floor. The din was oppressive. Aislynn and
Johnny discovered a quiet corner with a bench. Johnny left to find a room,
while Aislynn sat and watched the luggage. She heard a clock strike six and
watched passengers flow up and down the narrow staircase in front of her seat.
Trying not to look anyone in the eye and thereby calling attention to herself,
she watched their shoes, skirts and pants. During a lull in the rush, a lone
man came into view. She noticed his boots were highly polished; his trousers
were well cut and made of fine wool. Her eyes traveled up slightly to see a
dark hat in one hand and a fine leather case in the other. She saw the feet
stop abruptly, stand still for a moment, descend the stairs and walk in her
direction.

Aislynn trained
her eyes on the floor. When the boots rested directly in front of her, she bit
her lip and raised her head with trepidation and curiosity. The face resided
somewhere in her memory; as she tried to retrieve it, he spoke. “Miss Denehy?”

When his dark
head tilted and she saw his narrow, light blue eyes and sly grin, she recalled
his name, “Mr. Moran.”

“What a surprise
to find you so far from New York.”

“What a surprise
you recognized me.”

His smile
broadened, “You’re quite memorable.”

His gaze made
Aislynn uncomfortable.

“So, what brings
you to Chicago?” he asked.

Aislynn’s spirit
rose, “I’m going west.”

“The West is a
big place,” he said as his eyes questioned her.

“I’m going to
Ogden to join Tim.”

“I just left him
a few days ago; he didn’t mention your arrival.”

“I wrote, but
the mail takes so long, and I couldn’t wait for a reply. But how is he?” The
words jumped from her mouth. “How does he look?”

Moran chuckled
and shook his head. “He’s fine. Hairier than you remember him, I suspect, but
he’s doing very well. He’s a bright young man, one I have plans for.”

“Really?”
Aislynn beamed to hear someone else appreciate Tim.

“Right now he’s
off in the mountains prospecting for me.”

“Oh dear, is
that dangerous?”

“He’ll be fine.
He’s not alone. May I sit?”

“Of course,” she
waved toward the space next to her and returned her hands to her lap. “But if
he’s not at your ranch, how will I ever find him?”

“Leave word at
the house. He’ll be checking in.” He leaned closer to her, his hard blue eyes
piercing hers for a moment, trying to see through her, “You’re undertaking a
very strenuous trip; does your family know?”

Aislynn
hesitated and looked at her hands. “My father died a month ago; I actually have
no family.”

“Who is your
guardian?”

“Tim.”

Moran
straightened, “But he’s in Utah. What did his family say about this trip?”

Aislynn felt
uneasy with the direction of this conversation. “It was my decision. I’m an
adult; I can make my own decisions.”

“I believe
you’re just seventeen.”

“How do you
know?” she questioned.

“Utah winters
are long. Men have lots of time to talk.”

“Tim spoke about
me?”

“Oh, yes; he regaled
us with Aislynn Denehy stories.”

“He told
strangers about me?” For a moment she felt flattered, but her feelings
fluctuated; she wished she knew what he had said.

“Don’t be
offended, Miss Denehy. A cowboy’s life is full of loneliness. He was just giving
them something to dream on.” His face grew kinder. “They were decent tales. You
don’t have to worry; Mr. Nolan is one of the most upright men I’ve ever met.”

Aislynn basked
in his high opinion of Tim when he asked, “How are you planning on getting to
Utah?”

Raising her
head, she announced, “Rail and stage.”

“Miss Denehy…”
he faltered. “I don’t believe Mr. Nolan would approve of this trip.” He paused
again, clearly considering his next words. “I do feel compelled to do something
to return you to your family in New York.”

“I have no
family in New York, Mr. Moran. I only have my legal guardian, Tim.”

“But his father
and brothers?”

Hurt swelled in
her heart when she thought of explaining her situation. Her eyes fell. “The
priest wouldn’t allow me to live with the Nolans. You see… we aren’t truly
family.”

Moran watched
her for a moment and added softly, “But you cannot travel alone.”

“I’m not alone.
I have a companion.”

“Where is she?”

“He is looking
for some suitable accommodations. He is a young man from my parish who is very
responsible and respectful.”

“Johnny Maher?”

Astonished,
Aislynn said, “Yes.”

“You’re a very
smart little girl, Miss Denehy, but very naïve. I think you’re wrong to believe
Mr. Nolan would approve of such an arrangement.”

“He’s simply my
escort. What could Tim object to?”

“That’s between
the three of you.” He stood and bowed slightly, saying, “I wish you a safe
trip.”

Alone in the
station, Aislynn’s stomach grew nervous. She knew Tim had standards and
traveling with Johnny might be stretching them too far. She worried he might
think she was tainted by this trip.

“No,” she told
herself; she could trust Johnny, and Tim trusted him, too. She assured herself
that nothing improper would ever occur between her and Johnny, and she could
face Tim with a clear conscience.

When Johnny
returned to the station, he found Aislynn hungry and anxious to get to their
rooms. She mentioned meeting Moran and her concern about Tim’s disapproval, but
Johnny said, “You worry about the wrong things. Tim loves you, and he’ll be
happy to see you.” Buoyed by his assessment, Aislynn enjoyed her first
restaurant meal in peace.

They dragged
their bags through the Chicago streets away from the station to a quiet,
residential section of the city and a neat three-story frame. A refined-looking
lady greeted them at the door and directed them to a room off the kitchen.
Inside, Aislynn found a tub with steaming water occupying most of the floor
space. She squeezed past the tub toward the bed standing against one wall. A small
stove, its pipe pushing out through the room’s only window glowed in the
corner. The only other piece of furniture in the room, a chair, stood before
the stove, with a chamber pot tactfully hidden underneath.