If Pittsburgh was like her parents’ shtetl, or even as large a town as the ones she’d passed these past three days, everyone must know one another. Batya said no more as Moskowitz lifted her suitcase. She followed him to the stairwell and down the stairs.

He stopped on the last landing before the hotel lobby. “My business compels me to stay here for a few more weeks. My associate will take you to the ship and watch over you during the voyage.”

Cold perspiration erupted on Batya’s neck. Travel across the ocean alone? Without him? In spite of what he’d done to her, he was taking care of her just as he had promised. Her future husband was all she had in the frightening world away from her family’s protection. Why hadn’t he mentioned earlier his plans to leave her?

In the foyer, he led her to a nook where a big man was seated, his legs spread wide and his large gut spilling between them. “This is Dov-Ber Grabovsky,” he said.

Batya shrank back. His given name was the Yiddish word for “bear,” and this huge man, with thick dark hair and thick lips and thick fingers, was as frightening as encountering a bear in the woods.

Unsmiling, Grabovsky rose, lifted Batya’s suitcase, and gave a quick gesture with his head for her to follow.

Batya felt the blood drain from her face. “I’m scared,” she whispered to Moskowitz, clutching on his arm. “I’m not supposed to travel without you.”

“Nothing to worry about, my dear. My sister will fetch you at the port in Buenos Aires. The most extraordinary part of our life is yet to come.”

“Will there be kosher food on the ship?”

He smiled. “You haven’t been eating kosher for three days. Has lightning struck you?” Without waiting for her reply, he turned his back to the lobby and withdrew a small velvet box from his pocket. “While we are apart, I have something to remind you of our bright future.” He opened the box, and Batya stared at the diamond ring.

“May I place this engagement ring on your finger?” he asked in a ceremonious voice, bowing from his waist.

She was too awed to speak. He gently grasped her hand, and in the brief moment before he placed the ring on her middle finger, she registered his soft skin and manicured nails against her calloused hands with chipped, bitten nails. Once again she reminded herself how lucky she was that this nobleman had chosen her for his bride over all the women in America.

“You’ve been my dream,” Moskowitz continued, his voice sweet as honey. “You have such a good soul. I’ll join you as soon as I can. I can’t wait to show you my beautiful Buenos Aires.”