Far Horizons (29 page)

“Thank you. You're both so kind.” Harriet knew Allan must have never told them of her intention to marry another, and she was glad, despite her feelings of guilt... did she really deserve their sympathy, their kindness?

Over the next few weeks Harriet tried her best to settle into this new, strange life. She helped Betty with the chores around the farm. It was high summer, and a busy time. There was plenty to do in the garden, as well as picking berries, making jam, and churning butter. Harriet was thankful for the work which emptied her mind and kept her from lingering on her sadness.

In her spare moments she often took walks along the river, enjoying the wild beauty of this young country. Sometimes Rupert joined her, and they walked in companionable silence. Harriet realised that they shared something since their ship voyage, and at times like this needed no words to be in perfect harmony.

Like her, Harriet surmised, Rupert felt adrift, a stranger in a place where he should've been at home. How different it could've been for everyone if his older brothers had lived. Now all of Sandy's hopes were pinned on his young son, whom he barely knew anymore.

Dusk was gathering one night in late summer as Harriet sat on the porch, listening to the now familiar call of the whippoorwill. A bowl of peas she'd been shelling was at her feet, and she'd left it for a moment, to enjoy the sweet stillness of the evening.

Yet despite the beauty of the evening, Harriet felt a restlessness. As kind as the MacDougalls' offer of hospitality was, she did not feel at home here, without Allan. She was anchorless again, without a role or home of her own.

Her future in Scotland had seemed bleak, yet this was almost worse. She'd come to the new world with dreams that could no longer be realised in any fashion. hat was she to do?

“Make new ones,” Harriet said softly. She leaned her head against the back of the rocking chairs. New ones... if only she knew how.

Ian perched in the tops, the warm Caribbean breeze brushing his face, and closed his eyes in perfect contentment. It seemed hard to believe that a few months ago he'd climbed to these topmost masts, his legs shaking with fear. Now he silently thanked Henry Moore for his so-called punishment, for the hours alone there had begun a transformation in him.

At first, the sheer terror of the experience had left his mind numb, unable to do anything but concentrate on not tumbling to the waves below. Then, gradually, he relaxed, and he began to admire the view of endless ocean stretching in every direction.

He’d also had time to think, to acknowledge honestly the mistakes he'd made, both on the ship and before he’d boarded it.

He knew Captain Moore was giving him a second chance. Many ship masters would have turned him out in Boston with little or no pay, and left him to fend for himself. Henry Moore had given him an opportunity to better himself, and Ian intended to prove to him that his trust was not misplaced.

Since then, he'd applied himself diligently to the task of surgeon's mate. William Fingal was at first meeting a taciturn man whose face seemed set in lines of stern disapproval. But with time, Ian had got to know the man underneath, and he appreciated the rare flashes of dry humour, as well as commitment to the task at hand.

Since
The Allegiance
was not a navy vessel, the job of surgeon was not always terribly exciting. Most merchant vessels didn’t even have a surgeon on board, but Fingal was a personal friend of the Captain’s, and Ian got the sense there was more to the story behind his position as surgeon than he yet knew.

Between the odd broken limb, injuries from scuffles between sailors, as well as the bouts of typhus and influenza, there was still plenty of time for learning and discussion. Mr. Final seemed to take pleasure in teaching Ian from his precious collection of books, and Ian enjoyed learning.

Still, an unease filled him at odd moments, when he remembered Achlic Farm and his family back in Scotland. Where were they, he wondered. Had they been turned out on the street, and all because of his foolish, yet costly, mistake? The thought, and the memory of his foolhardiness, still could make his face burn with shame.

He'd sworn he would not return to Scotland till he could make good the money he lost. It was a vow he did not take lightly. Yet as surgeon's mate, Ian knew he would never save enough to pay even a fraction for Achlic Farm, or any other property. The problem gnawed at him. He was nearly seventeen years old, yet with little more than pennies to his name. How could he make his old wrongs right, and win back the dignity and livelihood of his family?

“What do you think to young Ian, then?” Henry sipped his port, smiling over the rim of his glass. He and William Fingal were sharing a glass of port and a rare quiet moment in Henry's private quarters. Outside the porthole, Henry could see the Caribbean sun setting over a tranquil sea, turning the azure waters into a rainbow of flames.

“He's a good lad.” William nodded briskly, his mouth twitching, which Henry knew was as close as the man usually got to smiling. If they hadn't met at Harvard, and grown as close as brothers during their years there, Henry often wondered if they would have ever become friends. William was a quiet man, but deep. It'd taken a long time to get to know him, but Henry would now trust him with his life.

“What do you think of his prospects?” he pressed.

William raised his eyebrows. “Prospects? You seem to take a keen interest in the boy. I wasn't the only person aboard ship surprised to see you keeping him on at Boston. He was useless as a ship's boy, you know. Half the sailors still don't have the time of day for him, but the others are coming round. The ones who've been in sick bay, at any rate!”

“He's good at medicine, you mean?”

William shrugged. “He's a quick mind, no question. And he's always anticipating my every request. It's rare to find a mate who can hand me the herb I need before the words have left my lips!” He smiled, a true smile that took Henry by surprise. “Yes, he's good at medicine. In time, perhaps, he'd make a fine doctor even.”

“Interesting.” Henry swirled the liquid in his glass, lost in his thoughts.

“What ties do you have to the boy, Henry?” William asked bluntly. “It's not like you to take a foundling under your wing, generous as you are.”

“I don't know.” Henry smiled ruefully. “It went against my better judgment to hire him as ship's boy at all. I had a suspicion he'd be little more than useless. But...” he paused, reflecting. “There was something about him that made me think he was worth saving. An educated boy, obviously from a well-off family, out on his own? Why?” He shook his head. “Mr. Douglas, if that is his name, still hasn't given me any answers to that particular riddle.”

“Yet why should you care? There are thirty sailors on your ship, and half a dozen ship's boys.”

“I tell you, I don't know, William. But I like the boy.” Henry set down his glass. “This spring I'm returning to Boston to visit my family before I head back to Scotland.”
And to Margaret,
he added silently. “I think I'll introduce Mr. Douglas to some mutual acquaintances... if you really do think he's as clever a lad as you say.”

“Do you mean medical school?” William asked in surprise.

“Why not? The world, and the world's ships, could use more fine doctors like yourself.”

William shook his head, smiling slightly. “Flattery, Henry, and nothing more. But yes, he is as clever as I say. I think Mr. Douglas will do very well at medical school, and he should thank the Fates or Providence, or both, for your hand in his welfare.”

Pictou harbour sparkled in the late morning sunshine as Harriet and Rupert disembarked from the mail packet.

“A bit different since last time,” Harriet remarked softly and Rupert nodded. The last three months had been hard for both of them, working through their grief even as they learned to live in this new land.

When Sandy had mentioned wanting to go to the mainland for the mail and a few supplies, Harriet had leapt at the chance to do the errands herself. She suddenly longed for a bit of freedom, an escape from the pleasant drudgery of life on the farm. With Rupert acting as her chaperone--or her as his--it seemed perfectly respectable to make the short journey across.

The mercantile was busy with people trading and buying as Harriet browsed among the goods. She fingered a length of green muslin, thinking how pleasant it would be to have a new dress, and yet at the same time wondering what good a new dress would do her.

She needed to stop thinking this way, she berated herself, not for the first time. For better or for worse, this was her life now.

“Quite busy today,” she commented to the shopkeeper as she handed him her list of supplies.

He nodded briskly. “A ship arrived yesterday in the harbour, from Scotland. It's full of settlers heading for Selkirk, and they want to get their supplies for the trip. Isn't easy, going that far.”

“Selkirk? Is that a new settlement?”

“Out West. Lord Selkirk bought up land from the Hudson's Bay Company for Scottish settlers. They've been there for a few years now, but as far as I can see it hasn't been an easy time. This new batch is heading out in another few days, hoping to make a go of it.” The shopkeeper shook his head doubtfully. “God bless them, at any rate.”

“All Scottish settlers?” Harriet was intrigued in spite of herself. “And they're travelling together?”

“Yes, by boat first up the river to the bay, to York Factory. From there they can sail down the Red River to the settlement. Fort Douglas, I think it's called.” The shopkeeper turned to her list. “I'll just fill this order for you, Miss.”

Harriet glanced at a young woman and her husband next to her in the shop. They were looking around them with wide eyes, and she wondered if they were newly arrived, and headed for Red River. Their conversation soon confirmed it, and even though Harriet suspected she was being inquisitive to the point of rude, she approached them.

“Pardon me, are you part of the new Selkirk settlement?”

They turned to her with eager, friendly smiles. “Yes, we've just arrived. Are you joining the travelling party?”

“No... that is...” Flustered, Harriet found herself stumbling over her words. “Are others joining here in Pictou? Is it... is it possible for others to accompany the group from the ship?”

The woman frowned in thought, but Harriet could see the man looking at her with some suspicion. “Naturally we'd welcome Scottish men and their families,” he said. “Are you travelling with your husband?”

Harriet flushed. “No, I'm alone.”

“Alone?” The man shook his head. “I hardly think a woman alone would attempt such travel. Come, Emily.” He drew his wife away, frowning, and Harriet's heart sank. The impossibility of her position as a single woman in the new world was heavy inside her.

“I have everything ready for you, miss.” The shopkeeper returned with her supplies. Harriet settled the bill, and with Rupert at her side walked out into the sunshine.

“Harriet, why did you ask about that Selkirk place?”

Harriet turned to Rupert, surprised to see him looking so distressed. “I was just curious.”

“No, you weren't. You're thinking of leaving, aren't you?”

Harriet sighed, wishing the boy were not so astute. “Perhaps I was, for a brief moment, but I can see it's a foolish dream, Rupert. Madness, more like! I can hardly travel alone, unchaperoned, and without supplies or money. Besides, what would I do when I arrived, with nothing to my name, no home, no family?” Harriet shook her head, feeling more hopeless than ever.

Allan had once spoken of the many opportunities of the new world, but there seemed few for a woman alone. Was she destined to spend her life with the MacDougalls, an unhappy spinster?

“Why don't you like it at Mingarry?” Rupert asked, his voice small. “Don't you like us?”

Impulsively Harriet put an arm around Rupert's shoulders. “Of course I do, Rupert. You're family to me, you know that. It's just...” she shrugged helplessly. “It's not really my place to be there, not without Allan. I feel a misfit.”

“You could marry someone else. Mother said Thomas Anderson was sweet on you.”

“Rupert!” Harriet shot him an admonishing look. “I know no such thing, and anyway, I'm not looking to marry right now.” She'd suspected their neighbour had an affection for her, but her own heart could not be rekindled from the ashes.

Still, she supposed Rupert had a point, in his own way. There was no reason why she shouldn't settle on Prince Edward Island, marry and have a family and home of her own. Why then, she wondered, did she feel so displaced? Would the restlessness that plagued her ever go away?

“I don't want you to go,” Rupert said quietly. “Everybody goes away.”

Harriet hugged him again. She didn't want to make false promises of staying, yet she could hardly see an alternative. “It won't always be that way.”

Rupert gazed up at her with a wisdom that belied his years. “Won't it?”

“Are you the young woman from the mercantile?” A woman stood in front of them, sandy haired and businesslike. Harriet stopped in surprise.

“Which woman do you mean?”

“Asking about the Selkirk settlement. I overheard a bit, and it sounded like you wanted to join the travelling party.”

“I was only curious,” Harriet hastened to explain. “It seems such a... an adventure.” She knew her words sounded feeble, but she was disconcerted by this woman's forthright manner.

“Curious, eh?” The woman gave her a very direct look. “Lord knows a woman can't travel alone, and I heard you were alone.”

“If you mean I'm unmarried, that's true,” Harriet replied stiffly.

“Don't get starchy with me,” the woman said with a dry laugh. “I'm speaking plainly because I'm alone as well.” She stuck out her hand, and Harriet shook it. “Katherine Donald. My husband died on the voyage across. Typhoid. I've got my supplies and a place in the settlement, but I can tell there are folks here who frown upon a woman travelling alone. Think she'll be trouble.”

“I'm sorry for your loss,” Harriet said uncertainly.