Monsters & Angels

Inverness

Sorcha's feelings of impending doom finally faded when she joined her friends gathered around their luggage in the foyer. Each nurse was allowed a trunk and a small satchel.

As Sorcha left the convent, she took a wistful look around. This place was a refuge when I desperately needed a home. I miss it already.

Their ship was ready and waiting. Jointly owned by Sisters of the Peace and The East India Company, the Inverness accommodated passengers and cargo. Compared to the sleek Atlantic liners Sorcha gazed at in Manhattan, this was a secondhand row boat.

Sorcha scanned the dock and ship decks. Dr. Banitierre wasn't visible anywhere in the chaos. The nurses shuffled down steep ladders to cramped quarters to inspect their home for the next few weeks. The cabins were nothing more than storage lockers with dirty portholes.

"It's just temporary, girls-at least we won't be lonely." Zelia patted the mattresses and chose an upper berth.

"What a dump." Angela held her nose. "Let's go back outside."

They arrived on deck in time to see the final member of the expedition emerge from the back seat of sedan in a long-sleeved shirt, gloves and a wide-brimmed hat. Dr. Banitierre's gait gave him away; it was the stride of a commanding officer.

"He must have known about the small cabins. He wore all his clothes." Sorcha squinted at dark hair brushing the doctor's shoulders. Was his hair that long last night? Three short blasts of the ship's horn, followed by a long one, and they were on their way. Hope this adventure brings me closer to actually being somebody-to make Mum proud. Time to stop running and start building a legacy.

The Inverness navigated sharp bends and strong currents down the Mississippi River, while Zelia pointed out landmarks in both St. Bernard and Plaquemines Parish.

Ivori stood alone, staring into the flats. The breeze ruffled her rich, brown hair-just a shade darker than her skin.

Sure she's disappointed I didn't quit. As the twinkling lights of New Orleans faded, Sorcha realized that nobody from New York would believe that she'd taken a chance like this. She gasped as the deck boards curled and twisted under her feet and returned to normal in a blink.

Damn visions haven't stopped.

The team had little to do except dive into their books about tropical diseases and fall asleep to the gentle rocking of the waves.

Sorcha woke to moaning and the violent tossing of the ship. "Angela, turn on the lamp!"

Zelia screamed and covered her eyes. "Turn it off-grab that bucket from the corner!"

Like dominos falling, as soon as one girl started vomiting, so did the next and the next. Sorcha quickly found herself playing nurse to a hallway of green people. Day after miserable day, the ship rolled and pitched so viciously that she needed to brace herself against the walls to avoid falling down.

How did Mum survive a voyage like this at seven months pregnant? If I don't get some fresh air, I'll get sick too.

"Nurse Ald-Sorcha, are you okay?"

"Yes-grand." Sorcha pushed a wild tangle of hair away from her face and fumbled for the sides of the bench. "Must have dozed off."

"Don't get up." Dr. Banitierre placed his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to scare you. All your friends have been so ill, and you look a bit drawn yourself. Have you been eating?"

"A little, usually out here on deck. We just need to get off this ship."

"Soon-a few more days. I've heard how well you've tended to everyone. You're a strong woman Sorcha, and a skilled nurse. We're lucky to have you on this journey."

"Thank you, Dr. Banitierre. I'll try not to disappoint you."

"Not possible, my dear."

The trip had done nothing to change his captivating smile and charm. Those eyes...so intense. Aside from being pale, he looked healthier than anyone else on board.

"Make sure you don't miss the beauty on this voyage. Look at the stars. What do you see?"

Sorcha tilted her face up and pointed at the pure black sky. "I only know Orion, the Hunter."

"Look at those five." He steered her toward another constellation. "The Southern Cross."

"How did I not see that? It was just a jumble before, now it jumps out like a beacon."

"You should wear your hair down more."

"Sure, Dr. Banitierre." She pretended to concentrate on playing with her shiny waves while sneaking glances at his profile in the moonlight. His presence put her at ease, as if they'd been friends for years.