A Family for the Titanic Survivor Page 2

  He stiffened, lifted his chin a bit higher. “I will inquire if anyone has reported one missing.”

  “All right.”

  He reached for the doll.

  She clutched it to her chest again. “I’ll wait while you inquire.”

  The look he cast down his nose was full of disgust. “I will inquire after we set sail. You need to return to your berth.”

  “Why can’t you inquire now?”

  “Because not everyone has boarded. Now if you will just—”

  “The child has,” Bridget interrupted. She normally wouldn’t be so rude, but this man wasn’t being any more helpful than the others had been. No one seemed to care about anything but setting sail. “A man was carrying her. Wearing a black coat. Her coat was pink.”

  “Miss, do you have any idea how many—”

  “Betsy! Betsy!”

  Bridget stepped around the steward. A little girl was rushing down the massive staircase as fast as her little legs would let her, closely followed by a man and woman. Certain this was the doll’s owner, Bridget knelt down and held out the doll.

  “Betsy! Oh, Betsy!” Long brown hair bounced on her shoulders as the girl jumped off the bottom step and ran forward, arms out.

  Bridget’s heart swelled as she handed the doll to the girl, who clutched the toy tight to her chest as tiny tears fell from big brown eyes.

  “Oh, how are we ever going to thank you?” the woman asked, kneeling down beside the girl.

  “How did you find her?” the man asked, kneeling down on the other side of the child.

  “I saw her fall,” Bridget said. “And caught her.”

  “I hadn’t known she’d fallen—what had made Elsie scream—until we were inside.” The man shook his head and then whispered over the child’s head. “I was sure she’d fallen in the water.”

  Bridget shook her head. “She fell right into my arms.”

  “She did?” the girl asked, still hugging her doll.

  “She did,” Bridget answered. “And I told her that I’d help her find you.”

  The steward cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir.”

  The man nodded, stood and picked up the little girl. “I’m Benjamin Wingard. This is my wife, Annette, and our daughter, Elsie,” he said to Bridget.

  “And you’ve already met Betsy,” the wife said. “Elsie’s uncle Karl gave Betsy to Elsie for Christmas, and she hasn’t let the doll out of her sight since. We are so grateful to you. What is your name?”

  Bridget was about to introduce herself, but the steward cleared his throat again.

  “We were on our way to the café for a refreshment,” Mr. Wingard said. “Please join us.”

  The steward cleared his throat yet again, louder.

  Tall, with brown hair and eyes, like his daughter, Mr. Wingard looked at the steward. “Thank you, your services are no longer needed.”

  The steward stiffened. “The café is reserved for first-class passengers only, Mr. Wingard.”

  “This young woman is our guest,” Mr. Wingard said.

  Bridget shook her head, fully prepared to find her way back to her cabin now that Elsie had been reunited with Betsy.

  “She most certainly is,” Mrs. Wingard said, looping an arm through Bridget’s. “We promised Elsie cookies and lemonade. Please join us.”

  Bridget saw the scowl on the steward’s face, but she was already being pulled along by Mrs. Wingard.

  “What is your name?” the woman asked.

  “Bridget McGowen.”

  “Bridget, what a lovely name, and you are a true angel. There was no consoling Elsie over the loss of Betsy. Benjamin and I tried everything. We were relieved when she finally agreed to a cookie, and then seeing you with Betsy...” She patted the corner of one eye. “I just can’t thank you enough.”

  “I’m glad the two are reunited,” Bridget answered, gradually slowing her footsteps as they neared the entrance to the café. “I really should return to my deck.”

  “Is someone waiting on you?”

  “No, I—” She swallowed because it still hurt to say, especially seeing how loving the Wingards were to their daughter. “I’m alone.” Alone in the world. That was still hard to admit.

  “Then you simply must join us for lemonade, or tea, or whatever you prefer.”

  Bridget’s insides bubbled at the pleading in the other woman’s blue eyes beneath her stylish purple hat that was encircled with a wide band of white silk, and matched her purple and white dress. Bridget’s dress was blue, a dull blue, and not nearly as stylish. Most certainly not stylish enough for a first-class café. She wasn’t stylish enough, either.

  Not wanting to disappoint anyone, yet, knowing her place, Bridget whispered, “I’m not allowed in there.”

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Wingard said, walking on the other side of his wife and still carrying Elsie. “You are our guest.”

  “It will be fine,” Annette said. “Benjamin and his brother are bankers. They are the reason this ship was built.”

  The only banker Bridget had ever known was George O’Reilly, and Da claimed George was so greedy he’d rob a blind man.

  Mr. Wingard laughed at his wife’s claim. “My brother and I did assist in gaining capital for the White Star Line to build this magnificent ship, but we are not the reason it was built.” He winked at his wife. “But I agree with my wife. You must join us for a refreshment.”

  “Is that why you’re on the maiden voyage?” Bridget asked.

  Annette’s eyes grew sad. “No, it’s just a coincidence. We are going home. We’ve been here for a month. My father was ill and died two weeks ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “My Da died last week.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Annette’s hold on Bridget’s arm tightened. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? Being an orphan? I know I’m an adult, but that’s how I feel with both my mother and father gone now.”

  Bridget did, too, and couldn’t say if it was their common losses, or her part in reuniting Elsie with her doll, but from that moment on, she felt a connection to the Wingards.

  * * *

  The four days that followed were truly wonderful. Benjamin and Annette had several dinners and events they had been invited to attend, and because Elsie’s nanny had broken her foot while they’d been in England and had remained behind, Bridget offered to watch Elsie whenever they needed her during the voyage.

  Because she was a friend of theirs, Bridget was also able to join the Wingards, seeing sections of the ship that were only for first-class passengers. The restaurants, library, even the swimming pool. Each night, she would share her daily adventures with Catherine, her berth mate, who was also from Ireland and traveling to America with her brother Sean. He was traveling as a steerage passenger, sleeping and eating in a large bunk room for single men.

  “I sincerely wish I could convince you to stay in New York,” Annette said one night while getting ready to go to an evening party. “Mrs. Conrad is a dear, but she was Benjamin and Karl’s nanny, and just doesn’t have the energy for a four-year-old. Elsie adores you.”

  “And I adore her,” Bridget replied, placing the final pin in the back of Annette’s hair. Elsie was such a little darling, and Annette and Benjamin were two of the kindest, most generous people imaginable. “But I can’t stay in New York. I promised my Da I’d go to Chicago, to his cousin Martha’s boardinghouse, and eventually start my own boardinghouse.”

  Annette sighed, but smiled into the mirror. “I understand, and I’m happy for you.” She turned around on the stool. “I’m just going to miss you. It’s silly, but I feel like you’re the sister I never had. An aunt for Elsie.”

  Bridget was truly touched, because she felt much the same way. “I’m going to miss you, too. We can visit each other, and write.”

  “We certainly can.” A
nnette stood. “So often we’ll wear out the train tracks between Chicago and New York.”

  “Yes, we will!” Bridget gave her a tight hug and then stepped back. “You look stunning.”

  “It’s just part of being Benjamin’s wife. There is always a function to go to, but it’s worth it. He’s such a wonderful man. Meeting him was the luckiest day of my life.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “He’d traveled to London to meet with my father about investments, and the moment I saw him, I fell in love. We were married a month later. That was five years ago. We haven’t been separated a day since then.”

  Bridget had never heard such a loving story.

  “I’m so lucky,” Annette said. “Benjamin is so good to me, so good to Elsie.”

  “She’s lucky to have such wonderful parents.”

  “And to have you. The person who rescued Betsy,” Annette said. “She’ll never forget you. None of us will.”

  “Of course not,” Bridget said. “Because we’ll see each other often. Now, you better go or you’ll be late.”

  “You’re right.” Annette stood and draped a shawl around her shoulders. “I’ve already ordered the evening meal to be delivered to the cabin for you and Elsie.”

  “We’ll visit the library after eating and return here to read the books she chooses,” Bridget said, walking beside Annette to the door. “She and Betsy will be sound asleep in bed when you return.”

  “This is so nice of you, to give up your evening for us,” Annette said.

  “I would simply be sitting in my berth otherwise. I truly don’t mind,” Bridget replied, opening the door that led into the sitting room of their suite, which also had a second bedroom and a full bath.

  Once Benjamin and Annette had hugged and kissed Elsie, they left the suite and Bridget took ahold of Elsie’s hand. “What would you like to do, Poppet? Play with Betsy or a game of knucklebones or—”

  “Knucklebones!” Elsie exclaimed.

  “Then knucklebones it is.”

  “I’ll get it!” Elsie ran to the room she slept in to collect the little bag.

  Moments later, they were sitting on the floor, bouncing the rubber ball and picking up the small metal knob-ended jacks before the ball bounced a second time. Elsie’s giggles filled the room when the ball would bounce away before either of them could catch it. Bridget was fully enamored by the little girl and loved every moment she spent with her.

  After eating the evening meal upon its delivery, they visited the massive first-class library where Elsie, clutching Betsy, snuggled on Bridget’s lap in one of the large chairs while she read the child a couple of stories from a children’s book.

  “Time to go back to your room, Poppet,” Bridget said when Elsie started yawning. “We’ll read some more there,” she added when Elsie frowned.

  “Yippie!” Elsie said, getting a second wind.

  Her second wind didn’t last long after Bridget had helped her into her nightgown and lay down on the bed beside her to read another story. When Elsie was sound asleep, Bridget eased off the bed, kissed Elsie’s forehead and then sneaked out of the room. In the sitting room, she nestled into a corner on the sofa to read a book she’d chosen for herself. The story was good, but she found herself wondering about the Wingards. Wondering if all the people in America were as nice as them, including Benjamin’s brother, whom they spoke of so fondly. Karl Wingard. He was older than Benjamin. Twenty-eight, and unmarried. He sounded nice, and he had bought Betsy for Elsie. Annette said they all lived in the Wingard family home, because it was so large, and because they didn’t want Karl to live alone.

  She couldn’t help but wonder about that. About him.

  When her eyes snapped open, Bridget questioned what had awakened her, then was appalled that she’d dared to fall asleep! The room was silent. Annette and Benjamin had not yet returned. She rose to check on Elsie, but felt oddly off-balance, as if the ship itself was somehow faulty.

  Attributing it to falling asleep, she checked on Elsie, who was still fast asleep. Feeling something was out of place, or simply awkward, Bridget returned to the sitting room.

  Everything felt oddly still.

  Or had she grown so used to the movement of the ship, she simply no longer noticed it?

  Bridget was about to sit back down on the sofa when the cabin door opened.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” the steward said, walking directly to a closet. “The captain has ordered all passengers put on their life belts.” He pulled a white life belt off the closet shelf and held it out to her. “And proceed to the sundeck.”

  Her heart stalled. “Life belts? Why?”

  He dropped the belt over her head. “Just a precaution, ma’am. How many people are in the cabin?” He talked fast, yet calmly, and with quick steps, crossed the room and opened the door to Annette’s bedroom.

  “Two,” Bridget answered, fastening the life belt as she hurried into Elsie’s room. “Mr. and Mrs. Wingard are at a private party in the—”

  “Get the child,” he said, standing at Elsie’s door. “And come along. Hurry.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Just a precaution, ma’am.” He handed her another life belt. “Put this on the child. Get your coats. Hurry.”

  Scared and flustered, she grabbed Elsie’s coat from the small closet. “Why do we need to hurry if it’s just a precaution?”

  “Captain’s orders. Please hurry. I have other passengers to alert,” he said.

  “Can you please find Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wingard, let them know?”

  “Yes, now hurry to the sundeck.”

  “Thank...” Her words trailed off because he was already gone, leaving the bedroom door and the door to the corridor open.

  The noise that filtered in, of other passengers scurrying along the corridor, sent her heart racing. Not wanting to scare Elsie, she gently awakened her. “Sit up, Poppet. I need to put your coat on.”

  “I’m not cold, Bridget,” Elsie said, with one eye open. “I’m in bed.”

  “I know you are darling, but we need to go up on the deck, and it will be chilly up there,” she said while putting on Elsie’s coat and buttoning it. “I need you to put on this life belt, too.”

  The white cork-filled vests were cumbersome, but with Elsie in her arms, Bridget picked up the doll. “Here, you hold on to Betsy.” Then, concerned because Elsie didn’t have on any socks or shoes, Bridget pulled a blanket off the bed and quickly tucked it around the child.

  She left the cabin and followed other vest-wearing passengers up to the sundeck, all the while assuring Elsie that everything was fine.

  “It’s just a drill,” a woman wearing a fur coat said. “They canceled the life boat drill this morning.”

  “Why are they doing it at this hour?” another woman asked. “It’s ludicrous.”

  Others agreed and discontent grew as they were ushered along the deck toward the lifeboats. Uniformed men were racing back and forth, shouting for people to hurry to the lifeboats. Passengers returned with shouts that they were not getting in a boat. That there was no reason to if it was just a precaution.

  Bridget bustled alongside the protesters, her arms trembling at the difficulty of holding Elsie with both of them wearing the bulky life vests, and shivering as the cold air penetrated her thin dress. Every time she stopped, or saw a seaman, she asked them to find Annette and Benjamin.

  “Women and children first!” shipmates were yelling. “Women and children first!”

  One of the ship’s men grasped her shoulders from behind, shoved her toward a lifeboat. “Here! Woman and child! Here!” He pushed harder to get her through the group. “Step aside! Step aside!”

  Elsie was slipping from her hold due to the jostling. Bridget hoisted her higher, fumbling to hold on to the blanket in the process. “Please,” she said to the shipmate over her shoulder. �
��The child’s parents are at a party. With the captain. Captain Smith. You must let them know where we are. Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Wingard. Annette and Benjamin Wingard!”

  “Sure, sure,” he said. “Get in the boat.”

  Still trying to get a solid grip on Elsie, Bridget shook her head. “Her parents—”

  The man grabbed her, lifted her, along with Elsie in her arms, over the edge of the boat and dropped them inside.

  She landed on the wooden seat so hard it made her backside sting, but her concern was Elsie. “Are you all right, Poppet?” she asked, twisting Elsie about on her lap so her leg wasn’t squished between her and the woman beside them. “Where’s Betsy?”

  Elsie lifted the doll so her head popped up over the blanket.

  “Good.” Bridget kissed the top of Elsie’s head and tucked the blanket snugly around her little feet and legs. “It’s going to be fine. We are just going to sit here for a little bit, then we’ll get you back in bed.”

  Chapter Two

  One by one, raindrops slowly inched their way down the window, leaving long narrow streaks, but Karl Wingard didn’t see them. Not the drops. Not the streaks. He didn’t see anything. On purpose. He was forcing his mind to go blank, to not see what was before him or what his mind was conjuring up.

  He turned from the window, adjusted his focus and settled his gaze on the man standing on the other side of the desk. “I want to know the very moment you know more. The very moment.”

  “Of course, Karl.” Daniel Brock nodded. “I have reporters collecting every ship to shore message. As I said, knowing Benjamin and his family were on the maiden voyage, I wanted you to hear what I’d heard so far. Novice operators are filling the airways, causing a lot of interference, and there hasn’t been a solid confirmation yet of what happened, other than she sank.”

  Karl’s throat muscles tightened as he tried to swallow. The Titanic couldn’t have sunk. Couldn’t have. The White Star Line... He huffed out a breath as other consequences rushed across his mind. Investors. He’d invested funds in the line, and had brought along many others while building capital for the White Star Line. So had Benjamin. It had been a solid investment. Comfort. Luxury. Speed. That’s what the world wanted. The White Star Line had promised all of that, along with safety. The Titanic had watertight compartments. She couldn’t have sunk. Couldn’t have.