Drew's Irish Lass

By Delene Perry

Desperate to escape her home in a poverty-stricken, 1883 Ireland, Kathleen Macavee sails to America to marry a man she knows nothing about. Kathleen is pleasantly surprised upon meeting the handsome Drew Bryant. But will that be enough to fall in love? Will Kathleen be prepared for her new life as a wife in a strange land?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Smooth Sailing Press
• Release date: Nov 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781618990389

Delene Perry

Delene Perry writes from her home in the beautiful Santa de Cristo Mountains of New Mexico where she lives with her husband of fifty-three years.

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Drew’s Irish Lass

Delene Perry

Book 1 in The Celtic Legacy Series

Drew’s Irish Lass

an original novel by author Delene Perry

Copyright © 2013 by Smooth Sailing Press, LLC

Drew’s Irish Lass

ISBN: 978-1-933660-17-2 Soft Cover

ISBN:  978-1-61899-038-9 eBook

All rights to this book are strictly reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher as

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Dedication

To my dearest cousin Laura Smith, who is my biggest fan and to my daughters, Shana and Jamie who are my second biggest fans.

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS NOW the third of July, and Drew Bryant stood beside the stagecoach office reading the three-month-old letter.

April 23, 1883

Dear Mr. Bryant:  

I do not know how to start this letter.  It is so hard writing to someone that you do not know.  I suppose it is going to be a lot harder to marry someone that I do not know.  But that is what is going to happen, isn't it?

The ticket arrived today and I will set sail in three days.  It is quite frightening to think of taking such a journey on my own.  Have you ever made such a journey? They have told me that if I get this letter on the outgoing ship today that it will reach you before I arrive.  If I do not get it on that ship, I will arrive with it.  They have also said that you could write me back at a general delivery box and I could collect it when I get off the ship.  You just need to address it to Kathleen MacAvee, c/o General Delivery, New York shipping yards, New York, New York.  Of course, you do not know that and this will reach you too late to matter, so I will not be expecting a letter in New York.  

I have only one favor to ask of you, and that is if we can wait to get to know one another before we make our marriage real.  I promise to be a good wife to you, the very best I can.  I am young and strong and I know how to work.  I am loyal and will not forsake you.  But this has happened so fast – out of necessity, I realize – and I do not even know the most basic things about you; such as your age, how tall you are or what color your hair or eyes are.  I know these things matter little in the overall scheme of life, but how am I even to recognize you?

As for myself, I have black hair, blue eyes and I stand about five feet and two inches tall.  I will be sixteen years old the week before my ship docks.  Some have said I am pretty, but I really don’t think so.  That is another of those things in life that does not matter.  More importantly, I am strong and have neither deformities nor disfigurement. 

My parents are both dead.  My mother died giving birth to my baby brother when I was only seven years old.  I tried to raise him, but he was always sickly and with no mother to nurse him he died at four months. 

Macky, my oldest brother, married and left home shortly after mother passed away.  Arron, the second oldest, left home and joined the army.  My only sister, Mary Elizabeth, had married shortly before mama died.  The twins – Tommy and Tabor – were just older than me, but drowned about the time Macky married.  Dad took to drink shortly after Mama died and with each successive death in our family he got worse.  By the time the twins died he was a pitiful sight.  He fell from his horse one winter's night during a bad snowstorm and when they found him the next morning, he had frozen to death.  I went to live with Mary Elizabeth and her husband, Jon. 

They had two children at the time and now they have three; two little boys and a wee little girl.  I was almost thirteen when I went to live with them.  They were good to me but life is not easy with an extra mouth to feed.  So now, I must make my own way in the world.  

I hope that I suit you as a wife.  Again, I promise I will try to be a good wife to you.   

Yours sincerely,

Kathleen MacAvee

…your soon-to-be wife.  

A half scowl darkened his otherwise handsome young face.   On his own since he was ten years old, Drew supposed he would still be sweeping out barns and saloons or breaking horses at twenty if it had not been for old man Cobb.  The old man took him in about six months after his parents died. When Pappy Cobb died, he left Drew the small piece of land where they lived together for the past ten years.  

Drew was not afraid of hard work and the thought of caring for another human being did not worry him too unduly.   But was he really ready to settle down and marry?

Pappy Cobb always told him, Son, you watch them women.  Oh, there is some good ‘uns out there – my Mammy was one and I am sure your Mammy was, too – but there’s some bad ‘uns out there and they is just out to take what a man’s got.  So you be very wary of ‘em!

Drew found this to be true on more than one occasion. But, he also felt it hard to be much of a target when he didn’t have anything to take.

Trying to raise the boy, the old man needed a woman around but didn't have that luxury.  Though Pappy Cobb did his best, there were no gentle touches in their lives.  He sure hoped this Kathleen was all she said she would be.  Just the fact that she agreed to the trip was evidence alone that she was something special; that she was a brave ‘un, as Pappy would have said. Boarding a boat in Ireland, then a train in New York and finally a stagecoach in East Texas … the girl must really possess some spunk.

If three days behind her letter, then she was to arrive the day after tomorrow.  The letter arrived yesterday when Drew came into town to buy some supplies.   He usually made the trip into town about this time of the month 

Two days later, he traveled back to town in the wagon he had borrowed from his next door neighbors, the Franklins. He was there to meet the stagecoach that was delivering Kathleen.  He waited for two hours for its arrival.   The stagecoach was late as usual but he had arrived about an hour early.  He really didn't understand his own anxiousness – then again, this was the person he planned to spend the rest of his life with.

As the stagecoach pulled in, Drew stepped back into the crowd, sort of hidden from view yet still able to watch the passengers disembark.  And there she was, a dark-haired girl in a nice traveling suit.  No … that couldn’t be her.   She is too tall and this girl must be twenty-five or older.

All kinds of thoughts flashed across Drew’s mind.  Was Pappy right?  Had this girl lied to him?  If that’s her, she can just get right back on the stagecoach!; he thought irritably. But then he noticed another girl; this one too with dark hair. But, she looked no more than twelve.  

Drew watched as the older woman – the one he initially assumed was Kathleen – walked to a waiting couple, embraced the lady and then left together.  A dandy looking fellow spoke to the younger girl and she was craning her neck to look around as she shook her head no.  Then as the man spoke to her again, she spoke loudly enough to be heard from the fifteen feet away where Drew watched.  

No sir, as I have said, Mr.  Bryant will be here.

With this, Drew left the safety of his hiding place and stepped into the street.  Miss MacAvee?

Yes? replied the frightened, bedraggled girl, turning fully to face Drew for the first time. He drew in his breath as the sun warmed her face and reflected off her eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, much more than he anticipated. He hoped primarily that she would be presentable – he would hate to have ugly kids, though he resigned himself to that possibility – but he dared not hope for a true beauty. 

Drew realized he was standing there with his mouth open and his hand out. He closed his mouth as she placed her soft young hand in his, and then kind of stuttered, Uh, may I take your bag? Do you have any others?          

She handed him the one small bag she was carrying but kept her grip firmly clasped around a small, wicker picnic basket. 

Drew said, The wagon is this way.

A smile crossed her face and reached her eyes and she simply said, Okay.

            They walked in silence the few feet to the wagon. He helped her onto the roughhewn wooden seat, and then went around and placed the bag in the back before stepping up onto the wagon himself.  Sitting beside her, Drew turned shyly, his throat dry as he asked, Uh, is there anything you need from town before we leave?

She shook her head. I have no money.

In a daze he drove away.  They had gone at least three miles before it dawned on him that he should assure her if she needed anything he would pay for it; after all, she was to be his wife.   He could simply put it on his bill at the general store.   But he was so shocked by her looks that his mind was still befuddled.  

That she appeared so beautiful was nothing less than a marvel considering her outward fashion – or lack thereof. Her clothes were old and while neatly mended, they were still rather ragged.  Her shoes looked as if she walked most of the way from Ireland, and while he was sure she had made some attempt to tidy her hair before the stagecoach arrived, it was still pretty mussed and windblown. The old bonnet on her head did not match anything she wore, and the brown coat draped over her thin arm appeared to have fallen prey to moths years ago.

Drew asked about her trip.

I would like to put the trip behind me, Kathleen said honestly. I decided long before the journey ended that if you did not want me as your bride when I got here, I would be happy to marry anyone that would have me.  I would not be getting back on that stagecoach for any reason.  I would rather lie down in the street and let the stagecoach run over me first!

            Laughing, he said, I'm sorry it was so bad.  But I must ask how old are you, really? You look to be about twelve. Kathleen turned defiantly in the seat to face him, her dirt-streaked face showing the signs of tear tracks and said, Do I now? As I stated in the letter, Mr. Bryant, I turned sixteen on the ship.  Didn’t you get it? You must have; you are here on the appointed day.

Yes, I got the letter, day before yesterday.  But, you look about twelve, not sixteen.  People will think I am robbing the cradle!  The sheriff will come and take me away in handcuffs … to say nothing of Minister White.  He will probably refuse to perform the marriage ceremony.

And so, there is to be a marriage ceremony, is there?

Well of course, came his hasty reply.  I would not have brought you out here if there wasn’t.

Well I wasn't for sure as you have told me nothing, she said with fresh tears streaking her face. Drew realized what an idiot he was being.  He should have taken her to the hotel in town and allowed her to at least wash her face and comb her hair. 

The next best thing was to stop at the creek a couple of miles from the house.  He couldn't take her to the house looking like this anyway.  As beautiful as she was, Mrs. Franklin would have his hide. 

Drew apologized for not taking her to the hotel so she could freshen up. Lay your head here in my lap and close your eyes and try to get some sleep.  We have a few hours ride ahead of us before we reach the farm, he explained. Then when we reach the creek about ten miles ahead you can clean up and do whatever else you need to do ...  or do you need to stop now?

Blushing profusely, she pointed up just ahead and said, I would like to stop over there at that stand of trees. He pulled up beside a large cottonwood and helped her down, inwardly cursing himself for his insensitivity. He had not even thought about the fact that she had been on the stagecoach for four days. The last stop it made before reaching town was a three-hour ride away. While he didn’t use the stagecoach regularly he had made a two-day trip on it one time, knowing how dirty and rough the passengers felt afterwards. He had sworn he would never do it again. 

It dawned on him then that she must be thirsty and hungry. He could not do anything about the hunger, but he had a canteen in the wagon. When she returned to the wagon, he offered it to her.  Thank you, I am parched, she said, drinking deeply from the canteen. And, she said, droplets of water falling down her chin, I could eat a bite.

He kicked himself once again and said, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to eat. Oh, wait, I do have something. After helping her back up onto the wagon, he dug around and found a bag of apples among the parcels he had purchased at the store in town.  The way she tore into the apple made him feel even guiltier.   She was starving. When had she last eaten? At the last stagecoach stop before town, he had understood that they could provide a cold meal. But, then again, she had said she didn’t have any money.

Kathleen, how long has it been since you ate girl? Oh, I had a bite yesterday, she said, nibbling on the apple core. Drew gave her another apple and she ate this one a little more slowly.  Drew thought, after the way I have behaved up to this point, I wouldn’t blame her if she got back on the stagecoach and fled in the opposite direction.

            Drew asked Kathleen what she had eaten the day before, and she said it was some bread at one of their stops. She didn’t mention that it was the crust of the older woman’s sandwich.   She did not have a lot of money to begin with.  Of course, her meals were furnished on the voyage over, but meals on the train cost extra. She had settled on one meal a day.   

            A kind older lady on the train asked her to be her companion on the trip and bought Kathleen a couple of meals. When this woman got off at her stop, she gave Kathleen an almost-full picnic basket. Kathleen emptied that on the first half of the stagecoach ride.   But she only had enough money to buy one meal on the whole stagecoach trip. 

Once she finished the second apple, Drew encouraged her to lie across the wide wagon seat and place her head in his lap.  The seat was very deep with a rest about six inches high across the back. It was long enough that if she drew her feet up, she fit pretty well.  He covered her with the old coat and she went to sleep immediately.

He could not keep his eyes off her as she slept. It was a good thing the horse knew the track so well or they would have ended up wandering off into the open prairie.  He was fascinated by the details of her feminine countenance, her cute little nose and the smoothness of her skin. Even dirty, it was easy to imagine how soft and warm her skin would feel to his fingertips. It was difficult for Drew to keep himself from reaching out and touching her.

Kathleen slept a couple of hours before he gently shook her saying, We are at the creek.

It took a few moments for Kathleen to coax her sleep-deprived brain into wakefulness.   Realizing that they were no longer moving, she sat up and looked around.  There, to their right was a beautiful little brook, bubbling happily through the meadow and in the distance she could just make out the shadowy mountains.  Drew helped her down from the wagon and she almost fell and would have if he had not caught her up in his arms against his chest.  

He gazed deeply into her eyes and she thought he was going to kiss her, and she wanted him to, until her fogged brain realized how dirty she was. She pulled back. I am okay now I think.  If you would just lift my bag down for me, I'll be using my comb and brush and I have a wee cloth to wash with.

Drew immediately brought her bag down to her, setting it on a rock on the stream bank.  Kathleen, under Drew’s attentive eye, removed the bedraggled bonnet from her mass of hair, and, turning, said, Is the water safe to drink? He answered that it was and turned to tend the horse and leave her to her absolutions. 

I’ll be as fast as I can, she said as he stepped away. Kathleen first took the small wash cloth and wet it in the icy stream and washed her face several times before she felt it was approaching anything near clean.  She felt that she had dug a whole farm out of her ears, as her mother would have phrased it. The cold sting of the water was invigorating, but she would not have wanted to immerse her body in it.  It took her forever, it seemed, to brush the tangles from her long hair as it had been some time since she actually was free to brush it.  The men on the stagecoach stared at her when she attempted to brush it in front of them.  It had made her skin crawl.  

Finally satisfied that most of the tangles were out, Kathleen twisted her hair into a perfect knot on top of her head. Then using a couple of twigs from a nearby tree, she secured it into place.  Standing, Kathleen tried to beat the dust from her old worn dress.  It was way too big for her. The dress had been her mother’s and then her sister had worn it for years before passing it down to her.  There was no spare money for clothes or anything frivolous.  Her sister, Elizabeth, had given her five shillings for food on the trip and that was all the money she could scrape together.  

Drew pretended to tend to the horse while Kathleen cleaned up.  He sensed she did not like to be watched but, he watched just the same as she combed that amazing black hair of hers.  He was astonished as Kathleen twisted it on top of her head and held it there with the twigs. His first gift to her, he planned, will be some sticks made from bone. He knew where there was some good dried elk leg bone that he used to make knife handles and he imagined it would do nicely for hair pins as well.

As he watched her surreptitiously, he regretted having made the decision not to consummate their marriage until they got to know each other. Not that he said anything about the plan to Kathleen; it was that he promised himself. And, Pappy Cobb had always told him, If you can’t keep an agreement with yourself, you shore aren’t gonna keep one with somebody else!

Drew understood why Kathleen asked him for such consideration in her letter.  It had to be hard to come to a completely strange country, leave all your family and all that you ever knew to meet a man for the first time and put your life – and your body – in his hands. Essentially that is what this girl had done, this beauty, this child bride of his.  That thought made his head swim and he wanted to go to Kathleen and hold her and lose himself in her rosy lips.  Instead he stomped down to the water’s edge about fifty yards from the girl and, falling on his knees, buried his head in the icy stream. 

            By the time Drew returned to the wagon, he was in control of his emotions, and Kathleen had herself cleaned up the best she could under the circumstances.

Kathleen was even more beautiful now without the dirt tarnishing her face.  He almost had to make another trip to the stream.  Helping her aboard the wagon was agony for him.  He did not know he could want a woman so much.  Of course, he was yet to have dealings with women on that level.

Kathleen sensed something was wrong but she had no idea what it might be.  She had no experience with men’s emotions or needs and would have been horrified if she had guessed.  Kathleen simply assumed he was in a hurry to get to the house and resented her holding them up.  Well she thought, we could go now, why is he just sitting here?  

Drew was sitting there because he needed to calm down.  They were not that far from the house where the Franklins and the preacher waited for them.  He didn't dare go in, not in the emotional state he was in.  They all knew him too well. They would know that something was up and not leave her there with him. 

Drew said, Kathleen, I need to tell you about tonight.  Our next door neighbors are at the house with the preacher and his wife.  We are going to have the wedding ceremony as soon as we get there and then Mrs. Franklin has prepared a wedding supper for us.

Fear came into the young woman’s eyes and her voice trembled as she said, Saints preserve us, I thought we were going to get to know each other first. He stopped her with, "We will get to know one another before we consummate the marriage, but you can’t live out here at the house with me and not be married to me."

Oh, she said, feeling embarrassed but relieved at the same time. She could have crawled under something and died.  In a way she wished she had never made that request.  Kathleen liked this young man. No, it was more than liked him!  She not only didn’t understand the emotions and needs of men but, right now, she didn’t understand the emotions she was having.  They didn’t talk anymore for the short duration of the trip. Soon, Kathleen saw lights of a cabin ahead.  She didn’t see any people but supposed they were inside. 

Drew called out, Hello, anyone in the house!

Before he could say another word, seven people began appearing on the porch, waving and calling out greetings. There was an older man Kathleen guessed to be the preacher. Beside him stood a short stout little woman that was most likely his wife. Then there was a younger man, probably in his mid to late twenties, with a very pregnant woman standing beside him.  The other three were, she guessed, from six to maybe ten; three little boys.  Two were blond and the other with hair as dark as her own. 

CHAPTER TWO

THE LADY expecting a baby reached the wagon first and proceeded to climb up on it, until the husband stopped her.  She appeared as if she could go into labor any minute. 

Drew made his way around the back of the wagon and helped Kathleen down.  Then he introduced her to everyone saying, This very anxious lady is Martha Franklin, and this is her husband Josh.

They both spoke and Martha could not contain herself.  She grabbed Kathleen and gave her a bear hug. At the same moment, the baby or babies kicked. Martha was quick to inform Kathleen there were two babies as she was expecting twins. Martha continued to tell Kathleen that the babies were due in the next couple of weeks.  Josh Franklin stood beaming proudly as Drew indicated that the two blond-headed boys were also Franklins.  Next he introduced the minister and his wife, Joseph and Maude White. 

Gesturing toward the dark-headed little boy, Kathleen asked, And this wee man must belong to you? No, this actually is Mark, Drew’s boy.  Didn’t Drew tell you about him?

Drew stepped forward. Uh, no, I didn’t. There has not been time. Kathleen, this is Mark.

The gorgeous imp stuck his hand out and said, Glad to meet you Ma’’am; are you going to be my Ma’’?

Drew tried to distract him and Kathleen said, That I am if I am going to marry your Pa.

Mark replied, That’s good … Pa don’t cook so good.

The tension was broke by laughter and everyone drifted into the house.   

            Maude said, Well young lady, we best get you dressed if there is going to be a wedding tonight.  She blocked the men from entering the house and ordered Drew to retrieve Kathleen’s baggage.

Drew dashed back to the wagon and retrieved her bags and most of the other parcels as well.   He loaded the boys down with the rest, carrying in the supplies that were supposed to last them a month.  

The two older women fussed around Kathleen like a couple of old sitting hens with one little chick.  It was slightly uncomfortable, as Kathleen had never experienced such attention, but it also nice to have someone fuss over her.

They soon dressed Kathleen in Martha’s wedding dress.   It was not anything particularly fancy, but Martha stated she thought Kathleen might not have one coming so far. And, of course she didn’t; there certainly was no money for such trappings. Finishing up the last minute details, both women gushed over the young beauty.  Knowing there wasn’t one in the house Martha had brought her hand mirror, allowing Kathleen to see the women’s handy work.

The men were allowed back in the house and the ceremony began with Josh standing up for Drew and Martha standing up for Kathleen.  Drew and Kathleen then exchanged vows.