Chapters (53)
- Praise
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Donegal, Ireland - 1911
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- The Titanic - 1912
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- New York - 1912
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Dallas, Texas - 1913
- Delia
- Donegal - 1913
- Nora
- Shotgun City - 1913
- Delia
- New York - 1913
- Nora
- Humboldt Ranch - 1913
- Delia
- Shotgun City - 1913
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Delia
- Acknowledgments
- Suggested Questions for Discussion
Ben threw my bag in the back seat and settled me into the front. We said nothing for a long time. As we drew close to the city, I began to worry. What was I going to do? My first instinct was to find Delia, but that would be impossible. Besides, at this point all I wanted to do was run away and lick my wounds. I wanted nothing more at that minute than to go back home to Donegal. But how was I to do that with hardly a penny to my name? My tears began to flow, even though I fought to hold them back.
“What’s wrong, Nora?” Ben said.
I let the words pour out of me. “Oh Ben, I just want to go home, and I’ve no money. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Ben looked at me and said nothing. When we arrived in New York, he drove straight to the White Star offices to inquire as to when the next ship was sailing for Ireland. He talked to the clerks and came back smiling.
He handed me a ticket. “There’s a ship sailing in two days,” he said.
I looked at him in shock. “But . . .” I began, “I didn’t mean for you to buy me a ticket. I’ve never begged in my life and I don’t intend to start now.”
“Do you have money for a hotel?” he asked, ignoring my protest.
I looked at his earnest face. I realized that in my hurry to get away from Sinclair I hadn’t even thought about where I would sleep tonight. I lowered my head.
“No,” I said.
He smiled. “I thought not. Here, take this.”
I started to refuse, but he pushed some banknotes into my hand. I held back tears as I thanked him. He drove me to what he said was a respectable hotel. When I got out of the car, I stood on the sidewalk with my bag. He and I looked at each other. I don’t think either of us knew what to say. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Good luck, Nora. Safe journey.”
“Thank you for everything, Ben,” I said, “You’ve been a good friend. I promise I will pay you back one day.” Without thinking, I reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
When I reached the hotel entrance, I turned back and waved to him one last time.
Dallas, Texas - 1913
Dallas, Texas
1913
Delia
Delia