Free A Bride for Donnigan by Janette Oke Page B

really is.”
    Erma moved closer to Kathleen and the smaller girl took comfort in her presence.
    “Let’s walk around to lee side so we can talk out of this wind,” Erma suggested, and Kathleen followed with no hesitation.
    They found a small bench sheltered from the wind and took refuge, wrapping their shawls tightly around their shoulders for warmth.
    “There now,” said Erma, giving Kathleen a forced smile, “this feels better.”
    Kathleen nodded, watching the rise of distant waves and feeling the pitch and roll of the sea.
    “We’ll be docking tomorrow,” said Erma. “Have you seen Jenks yet?”
    “In the morning,” replied Kathleen.
    “He sure has held you off,” observed the other girl. “Yet at the same time, he’s been almost courtin’ you the whole passage.”
    “Courting?” echoed Kathleen. She had not felt courted—only harassed.
    Erma nodded. “Why do you think the teasing from the others? They noticed all the attention. The ‘How are you? Can I get anything for your comfort? Would you join me for dinner?’ ” Erma chuckled softly at Kathleen’s shocked look.
    “I don’t think—” began Kathleen. Something about Mr. Jenks made her feel dreadfully uncomfortable. But she couldn’t put it into words. Not even to Erma.
    “Well, no matter,” went on Erma briskly. “We’re almost there now. Not much chance for courtin’ from now on, is there?”
    Then, to Kathleen’s relief, Erma changed the topic. “See all the gulls? That means we’re getting near land.”
    Kathleen lifted her face and studied the birds circling overhead. She could hear their cries and it awoke some deep, distant memory. Had their Irish farm been by the sea? Then her thoughts were interrupted as Erma spoke again.
    “So you still don’t know—?” she began, then stopped, knowing that Kathleen would be able to finish the question.
    Kathleen shook her head. “Sure, and the suspense is givin’ me goose bumps, and that’s the truth,” she answered with a shiver.
    They sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the cry of the gulls and the swell of the seas.
    “If you could wish—and have it come true—what would you wish for?” asked Erma softly.
    “That he be Irish,” responded Kathleen with no hesitation.
    “And his trade?” asked Erma.
    “I wouldn’t care. He can be anything—just as long as he—” She didn’t finish her statement.
    “And what would he look like?” asked Erma, seeming to enjoy her little game.
    Again Kathleen did not hesitate. “Dark wavy hair coming down at the sides with curling sideburns, with laughin’, teasin’ eyes, and a dimple in his chin.” She had described her father just as she remembered him.
    “I’d like a tall blond rancher with broad shoulders and a straight nose and even teeth with a—just a small, carefully trimmed mustache,” laughed Erma.
    “Oh, Erma!” cried Kathleen, laughing too, and then adding in sudden anguish, “And what do you think they are hoping for in us?”
    Erma shrugged, then answered thoughtfully, “Companions. Cooks. Housekeepers. Someone to share laughs and—and trials. Someone who won’t nag or chatter too much or complain over wet firewood or footprints across the kitchen.”
    Kathleen shivered.
    “At least—I’m hoping that’s what he’ll want. I could be that, Kathleen. But if he wants more—then …” Erma let the sentence slide away to join the cry of the gulls and the sighing of the wind.
    Kathleen reached for her friend’s hand.
    “The biggest wish of all”—her voice was a whisper—“is that you will be wherever I am, and that’s the pure truth of it,” she said with feeling.

Chapter Eight
    Meeting
    The next morning Kathleen went promptly for her appointment. Mr. Jenks rose to meet her as she entered the room and took the liberty of using her first name. “Kathleen,” he beamed, taking her arm and steering her to a chair placed a little too close to where he himself had been seated. He reclaimed