Sisters of Sorrow (30 page)

Matilda raised one eyebrow.

Sarah turned and marched toward the woods.

When she had gone, Matilda said, “I am counting this as a debt you owe me, child. I do not give favors. You will tell me everything you know about who was here, about who died and how, and about who was coming to assist McCain. And when you have told me everything, you will still be in my debt. When I come to collect, you had better be ready to pay.”

“You help Donny, and take my girls somewhere safe,” Anna said, her hand clutched the key in her pocket so tightly that her nails dug into her palm, but the strawberry copper taste was gone. “That is your end of the deal. My end of the deal is I saved Dolores from the army of witch-hunters that you set on her. That makes us even. I will give you the information I have as a favor to you. I owe you nothing.”

“That is not the way I see it,” said Matilda. “But we must go, now. Collect your girls. We’ll hash out terms on the ship.” She stooped and retrieved Sarah’s blade from the sand. It glinted in the late morning sun.

Anna nodded, as solemnly as she could, but inside she felt a glowing, radiant hope. “You get nothing from me until Donny has recovered.”

“Then we shall speak this evening,” Matilda said in a cold, cold voice.

Anna turned toward the wood line and was surprised to see Jane standing there, had forgotten her completely. Anna rushed to her and threw her arms around the older girl.

“We’re leaving, Jane!” Anna whispered, trying not to let Matilda see her excitement. “We are sailing away from here forever. On that clipper ship. We’re finally free!”

“I know!” Jane whispered back. She and Anna started jogging toward their little camp.

“And Donny’s going to be okay!” Anna gasped as she ran, “They’re going to make him all better!”

“Anna, slow down,” Jane said, still holding her hand. “You shouldn’t be running.”

“Donny’s going to be okay!” The wood line moved away from her faster than she could run to it, but the ground came closer by the second.

“Anna!” Jane shouted. It was the last thing Anna heard before pitching forward onto the beach. She plunged through the sand into swirling darkness. It was a very familiar feeling, one she was becoming accustom to, like swimming in the ocean.

Anna awoke to the gentle side-to-side rocking of the clipper ship skimming across the sea. Sunlight streamed in through portholes, painting radiant oblongs on the floor. Reflections of saltwater scintillated on the ceiling.

Donny rocked in a hammock beside hers. He looked almost exactly as he had the last time she had seen him, his eyes and mouth hanging partly open. A slow buzzing sound hummed out from between his lips. Anna had the horrible idea that a fly was trapped in there. Then the buzz drew out to a rattle and Anna realized that Donny was snoring.

“Donny?” she said.

The snore abruptly changed to a snort. Donny’s eyes popped open, bright and green, fully alive. “Anna!” he exclaimed, swinging his feet down from his hammock and rushing to her side. “We’re on a boat, Anna, a tall sailing ship! You’ve gotta see this thing! It’s amazing, flyin’ across the waves…”

Anna threw her arms around him and hugged him so hard one of the stitches in her back nearly ripped out. “Shut up, Donny,” she choked through her tears. It was all she could manage before a sob clenched her throat. She wept into Donny’s shoulder until she wet his shirt with her tears. A clean white shirt, Anna realized, after she had soaked it. She clung to him while the clipper sliced through peaks and glided across valleys, rolling gently.

Finally, she let him go, not all the way, just to arm’s length. “You’re not going to get sick are you?” she asked, trying to smile, only a hint of mischief in her voice.

“Not this time,” he said. “One of those funny ladies gave me something to help with sea sickness. Uh, and um, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell…anybody about me being sick before.”

“You mean you don’t want me to tell Lizzy,” Anna said.

“Nah, that girl would probably follow me around no matter what you told her.” Donny paused then asked, “Anna, how’d we get on a boat? Last thing I remember, I was standing next to a bonfire, up to my knees in water, talking to you. Then, all of a’sudden I’m here. Jane says nobody’s allowed to say nothing to nobody about nothing until you wake up.”

“Donny,” Anna tried to laugh, but it came out as a dry sob. She wiped at fresh tears running down her cheeks. “Donny, you got killed, by one of those crazy nuns. Then a witch brought you back to life.”

Donny raised an eyebrow at her and whistled through his teeth, nodding. “Yeah, figured it was something like that.”

This time Anna managed a real laugh. “No, you didn’t,” she said, bopping him on the shoulder. She let her feet drop from the hammock, wrapping her arm in his. “Can you take me to see my girls?”

Donny led her up a narrow flight of stairs onto the deck of the clipper. The ocean spread out before her, a brilliant blue, all the way to the horizon on every side. It sparkled in the near blinding sunlight. Salt water sprayed as the sea slipped by below them. The wind played with Anna’s hair and cooled her damp cheeks.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, Anna took in the ship. Three tall masts, with all sails full of wind, rose from its deck. The deck itself was probably a hundred feet from stem to stern. One of the witches, Anna could not tell if it was Matilda or Sarah, stood at the helm, wheel in her hands. She still wore the white silk gown. No other crew was visible.

Anna turned and looked to the front of the ship. Below the fore mast, her girls sat in a little circle – Jane, Lizzy, Joan, Mary One, Norma, Lilly, Maybelle. They each wore a clean white dress, without a trace of grime on their faces. Jane stood as soon as she saw Anna, but made no move to approach. Maybelle jumped up at the sight of Donny, but Jane took her by the arm and gently sat her back down.

Between Anna and her girls, another figure in white lounged, her feet resting on the railing and a broad brimmed hat covering her face. Anna guessed who it was by the bandages on her feet.

As Anna approached, Dolores raised the brim of her hat and smiled. She extended her hand to Anna, and when Anna took it, Dolores pulled her in and wrapped her arms around her.

“You came back for me,” Dolores said.

“I had to…”

“No. Anna, you didn’t,” Dolores said. “No one has ever come for me. I have always been alone. Do not discount what you have done. It is something no one has ever done before.”

“Dolores, you’re one of us, you are one of my girls. How could I have left you?”

Dolores was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, she said, “I made sure that your girls were properly fed. They’ve also been bathed and clothed, as you can see. There’s a washtub below, and clean clothes for you as well, when you’re ready for them.”

“Thank you, Dolores.”

“Please,” she said in a voice that sounded angry but wasn’t. “Please don’t thank me. It was the least I could do. I’m sorry, Anna, I – I have been alone for a long time, and I wasn’t planning on being alive today. I’m having a difficult time…knowing how to behave. It may take me some time to remember how to be a friend.”

Anna knelt beside her, trying to know what to say. She stared out at the sparkling waves. “Not a friend, Dolores, a sister. You are a fine sister. And we saved each other, I never would have made it out of there without you, nor would my girls.” After a pause she added, “I think I like you better when you don’t behave.”

“
You
never did, did you?” Dolores smiled.

“No,” Anna said, “I suppose not.”

“Jane said you wanted to see the ocean,” Dolores said after another pause. “I hope it is as wonderful as you imagined.”

“It is,” Anna said. “It’s almost hard to look at. It just goes on and on forever, like it’s not real. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up back in Saint Frances, or in the cistern.”

“It’s real enough, Anna,” Dolores said, squeezing her hand. “You’ll have plenty of time to adjust. Don’t expect to see anything but ocean for several weeks.”

“Weeks?” Anna said. “Where are we going?”

“What did you tell Matilda?” Dolores turned to her with a teasing grin and a little wickedness in her teary eyes. “She seems to think she needs you, seems to think you are too important to trifle with.”

“All I said was that some of McCain’s army was still…” Anna paused, then said, “I think maybe Jane might have over stated my role in McCain’s demise.”

Dolores smiled out at the ocean. “We’re sailing to Australia, Anna. There’s a school for young ladies in Perth. Matilda says you and your girls can stay there. ‘Until you’ve grown’ is how she put it.”

“A school?” Anna said, flabbergasted. “We can live there?”

“Yes, Anna. Everyone except Donny. When you negotiated this deal, you insisted on a safe place for your girls, so Matilda is not obligated to provide anything for him,” Dolores said, her eyes still twinkling. She watched Anna absorb her words, waited until Anna understood. As soon as Anna was about to ask what Donny was supposed to do on his own, Dolores added, “Fortunately for Donny, he has a friend in Perth who owes him a favor.”

“You?” Anna asked.

Dolores lowered the brim of her hat and settled back in the lounge chair. “Yep,” she said, “Somebody’s going to have to look after me until my feet heal. I’ll make sure he gets fed, and has a warm place to sleep. Maybe you can come by and visit sometime?”

“Of course I will, but…” Anna said, “But, Dolores? Australia?”

Dolores said nothing. Her smile broadened under the brim of her hat.

“Dolores,” Anna asked, now in a hushed voice, “can I trust Matilda? You know that she set you up, right?”

Dolores’s smile faltered. She lifted the hat brim to look Anna in the eyes. “Matilda will not lie to you. She agreed to heal Donny and she agreed to take you and your girls to a safe place. You can count on her to do those things. You must make absolutely sure that you uphold your end of the bargain. She is being extremely generous with you. That makes me think she wants more from you than you agreed to. I would recommend that you settle on exact terms sooner rather than later.”

“What does she want from me?” Anna asked.

“Surely, I do not know.” Dolores raised her eyebrows. “But, in as much as she seems to think that you singlehandedly wiped out McCain and half her army, my guess is she wants you to help her do battle with the other half.”

“Dolores!” Anna cried. “I didn’t do that, you did.”

“Well don’t tell
her
that,” Dolores smiled. “Besides, I’ll be around if you need a little help – And really, Anna, what else were you planning on doing with your life, now that you’ve seen the ocean?”

That thought struck Anna as so profound that she could find no words. Her future stretched out before her as sparkling and limitless as the ocean itself. A rushing vertigo swept over her and she sat back on her heels.

“Anyway,” Dolores said, “This ship sails faster than any natural vessel, but it’s still a very long way to Australia. You have plenty of time to wrestle with questions about the future. Eat. Rest. Dream. Oh, and you might want to go say hello to your girls, rumor is they are anxious to hear how you’re doing…Donny, would you mind giving her a hand?”

Anna looked across Dolores, to the bow of the ship, where all the girls stood, looking toward her. Their faces were a mix of wonder and concern, amazement and bewilderment, and joy. She felt Donny lifting her to her feet, felt Dolores releasing her hand.

Anna floated across the deck, as if she were a hot air balloon and Donny was guiding her by a rope rather than by her hand. She looked back at Dolores as Donny walked her toward the bow. The hat hid the woman’s face, except for one corner of her mouth, which turned up in a sly, contented grin.

Anna’s balloon landed the second she touched the forward deck. The girls mobbed her, laughing and shouting and crying. She heard shouts about Australia, where they have raccoons with duck heads and rabbits that stand up as tall as a man. She heard shouts about a school where you can read as much as you like, where they feed you even if you don’t make enough shoes. Someone kept asking if they have blackberry jam in Australia. Anna collapsed in a pile of hugs and tears.

At the ship’s stern, the black haired woman still stood at the wheel, her white gown ruffling in the wind like a furled sail. Anna had unfinished business with that woman, but that would have to wait. At this moment, it didn’t frighten Anna in the least. It seemed that just now, there was no room in her for fear. Her heart was too full with joy and wonder and love.

Thank you so much for reading Sisters of Sorrow. If you had half as much fun reading as I had writing, we are both the better for it. Many more hardships and adventures await Anna and her friends. If you’d like to be the first to hear about new releases, please sign up for my newsletter HERE.

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