Long Journey Home (Longing for Home Book 5)

by Sarah M. Eden

  “He takes after his father,” she said.

  “Says the woman who just made a brilliant business suggestion I hadn’t thought of despite years of study and experience.” He shook his head as he took up his sharpening tool once more. “Give yourself due credit, Maura O’Connor. You deserve it.”

  She carried Sean out of the barn once more, her heart somehow both lighter and heavier. She knew this was the right course of action, but her burden would grow as a result. She would have less to offer Aidan in the short term. If she could live long enough to see Aidan gain the farming skills he needed, he could live with his grandparents or an aunt and uncle without being a burden. That would mean a lot.

  Katie’s music had stopped, but had she returned to the house yet? Maura glanced in the direction of the practice copse. Katie was walking toward her, her fiddle case held securely against her. Maura waved.

  “Wave to your ma, Sean,” she said, demonstrating for him. After a few tries, he made a valiant effort.

  Katie waved back and hurried to them. “Were you waving to your ma, dear?”

  Sean reached for her.

  “I’ll take your fiddle,” Maura offered. Holding the boy and the case would require some juggling for someone with fingers on only one of her hands.

  “Thank you.”

  They made the swap quickly.

  “May I talk with you?” Maura asked.

  “Of course. Is anything the matter?”

  Maura shook her head. “I’m wanting to ask if I can make a change in my arrangements here.”

  “Is the work proving too much? After the difficult time you had last week, I worried it might.”

  “No. Well . . . the change I’m thinking of would help in that regard, as I’d not be so tired from walking up and down the road day after day.” She had Katie’s attention. ’Twould be best to move forward. “Running a farm is far beyond mine and Aidan’s abilities. This job suits my skills better. And I believe Ryan and Mrs. Callaghan will soon have ownership of the Claire land and house.”

  “Where will you go?” Bless Katie, she sounded genuinely concerned.

  “I hoped I might lay claim to the housekeeper’s room here. I’d make extra at meals for m’self and Aidan, which can be deducted from my pay, as well as the value of the laundering soap I’d use when tossing our clothes in with the rest of the family’s.”

  Katie tipped her head in thought. “I lived in that room while working as a housekeeper here, and we took those same things into consideration. It is easier to get the work done when you’re not having to walk here each morning.”

  Ryan had made the same observation about his land and living at his brother’s house. If she lived with the Archers, she would have more time to work, but she would also have more energy, more air, more endurance.

  “What about Aidan?” Katie asked. “Where would he sleep?”

  That part of Maura’s plan was less ideal. “He’s been sleeping on the floor of the loft these past weeks, so he’s not unaccustomed to a blanket on the floor.”

  “He’d sleep in the housekeeper’s room with you?” Doubt had entered Katie’s voice.

  Maura couldn’t afford to allow it to grow. “Not permanently, only until I sort out something better. He won’t complain, and we’ll not be a burden on the household. Indeed, he’s been working for Joseph the past couple of days with Finbarr’s help.”

  Katie’s mouth dropped a bit open. “Finbarr’s been helping him?”

  Maura nodded. “’Tis a good thing for them both. I’d like to allow the connection between them to grow for a time. We can make do sharing a room; we’ve done it before. And we needn’t rule out the possibility of finding something different if need be. But both of us staying here would help us tremendously for now.”

  Katie bounced Sean on her hip. “If things are too pressed sharing that room, you can always search out a more comfortable arrangement.” She made the statement almost as a question.

  Maura nodded. “We simply need something to bridge the gap between where we’ve been and where we’ll eventually be.”

  Katie smiled and nodded. “I think we can make that work, for however long you need it.”

  However long would they need it?

  That was a question she would just assume avoid answering.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Ryan stepped inside the house and hung his jacket on the hook, movements fast and anxious. “I think I’ll be ready to begin harvesting in the morning.”

  “Thank the heavens. I’d begun to wonder if the hay would ever be ready for cutting.” Ma spoke from the stove, stirring something in a pan.

  “It’s been an odd season. The mower will be helpful. We might get everyone’s hay cut, even with the crop coming in a couple of weeks later than usual.” Ryan glanced around, but they were alone. Maura always cooked supper when she was home, and this wasn’t a late laundry day. “Are you well enough to be up and working?”

  Ma smiled at him, a look of utter satisfaction. “I’ve had more and more good days. The extra sleep and quiet have done wonders.”

  Ryan gave her a hug. “I am so pleased to hear that. I just knew if you could come here, you would feel better.”

  “’Twas a long time in coming, wasn’t it?” She patted his cheek, then returned to her supper preparations.

  Ryan slipped away toward the open door of Maura’s room. He didn’t know how Ma had convinced her to relinquish supper duties, but he meant to thank her for allowing it. But Maura wasn’t inside. Ryan had returned from his fields later than usual; there was no reason she should still be gone. He turned to step away once more, but stopped. Something was wrong about the room.

  He looked back and, in an instant, understood what had niggled at the back of his mind The room was empty. No clothes. No hairbrush. Everything was gone.

  He moved to within view of the stove, though not all the way across the room again. “Why are Maura’s things gone?”

  Ma set her serving spoon aside. “She came by a couple of hours ago and packed everything. They’ve left.”

  “Left?” The words hardly made sense to his spinning mind. “Where’d they go? They haven’t anywhere.”

  Ma checked a loaf of soda bread browning in the stove. “She didn’t say.”

  “And you didn’t ask?”

  “I did.” Ma turned to him, amusement in her expression. “But she told me I needn’t worry, and should tell you that she’d found another arrangement for herself and her lad, and that they’d not be in your way any longer.”

  In my way? Did she think that was how he viewed them? “She said that?”

  “She did.” Ma shuffled from the stove to her rocker near the window. She was doing better, but she’d not be running foot races anytime soon.

  “‘Tell him we’ll no longer be in his way,’ is all she said? That’s all the explanation she intends to give?”

  “She’s a grown woman, Ryan. She’s not beholden to you.”

  Being beholden or not wasn’t his objection. He liked that Maura was fearsome and independent. He didn’t want her indebted to anyone, least of all him. “She doesn’t owe me an explanation, but I’d have appreciated at least a farewell, or knowing where they went, that they are well and happy and—”

  Ma watched him with an uncomfortably knowing look. “You’re going to miss them.”

  He knew what she was hinting at, and he wasn’t about to confess to anything so personal. “I’ll have to start milking the cow again, is all. And your first difficult day, I’ll go hungry as well.”

  Ma’s mouth pulled in a line of disapproval. “Don’t lie to your mother, Ryan Michael-Patrick Callaghan.”

  His shoulders drooped. No point pretending she was mistaken. “Yes, I’ll miss them. But don’t you start filling in gaps with anything beyond that.”

  “I’ll let you fill those gaps in on your own.” Ma began rocking.

  “She truly didn’t say where they were going?”

  Ma shook
her head.

  Ryan paced, thinking aloud. “Likely to stay with one of the O’Connors.” Saints, she hadn’t wanted to live on the charity of her family. “Which one, though?”

  “For what it’s worth,” Ma said, “she arrived with Katie Archer and left with her, as well. I’d wager she’s there.”

  “At the Archers’?” It made sense from one angle, but not from any others. Maura did work for the Archer family, but they hadn’t a loft for Aidan or a set of rooms for the two of them. Maybe Katie was simply driving Maura somewhere else.

  Ryan snatched up his jacket.

  “Don’t you go chewing her up,” Ma warned. “Life’s been too often cruel to that woman. She’s making the best of it.”

  “I’ve no intention of chewing her up. I only want to make certain she’s not living in a cave or something.” And he wanted to find out why she’d left without a word. How often had they shared their worries and dreams and hopes? He’d held her in his arms, danced with her tucked close to him. They’d shared something he thought was special. And she’d simply walked away.

  He pulled his jacket on.

  “I’ll keep supper warm,” Ma said.

  “Thank you.” He made the mistake of looking at her one more time. He didn’t know if what he saw was pity or, more likely, amusement. “You’re laughing at me.”

  “I’m curious, is all. I’m looking forward to seeing where this goes.”

  He wasn’t about to confirm her speculation. “‘Where it’s going’ is down to Archers’, then back here for supper, then out to find someone who’ll lend me a wagon over the next few days.”

  “Why are you needing a wagon?” she asked. “Maura’s not needing to be driven back on laundry days.”

  She wasn’t coming back even on laundry days. She wasn’t coming back on any day. He didn’t care for that. Not at all. He pushed the objections aside, though, and focused on the task at hand. “The wagon’s for the hay, Ma. The harvest is my priority.”

  “Just as soon as you find and talk to Maura, you mean.”

  Ryan didn’t take the bait. He stepped outside and set himself in the direction of Archers’.

  I’ll simply make certain they’ve a roof over their heads, that they didn’t leave because they thought they had to. ’Tis simply a neighborly visit, nothing more.

  But the farther he walked down the road, the more his mind spun over the situation, and the more frustrated he grew. Why would she leave without even saying goodbye? Why would she not at least tell him she was considering such a departure? She had every right to make decisions for herself and for her son, but he thought they’d formed enough of a connection for more than that.

  By the time the Archer home came into view, his calm and collected intentions had shifted to frustration and, if he were being fully honest, a touch of hurt. ’Twasn’t the best frame of mind to be in when he knocked at the kitchen door, but it was the truth of the situation.

  Maura answered the door, and his frustration melted on the instant, replaced with a deep and unexpected surge of disappointment, not at seeing her, but in knowing how easily she’d walked away.

  “Why’ve you left?” He could have begun the conversation more smoothly, but in the moment, his mind chose instead to hit at the heart of the matter.

  “Left where?”

  He let his expression turn absolutely arid. “Home, Maura. Why’ve you left home? You and Aidan?”

  “It was not ever really home,” she said. “Not ours, anyway. It was always meant to be yours; I think I always knew that. I was simply being stubborn.” She stepped back into the kitchen, but left the outside door open.

  He stepped inside, closing the door behind them. “You simply packed and left. Not a word of explanation or warning. You don’t think I expected that of you, do you?”

  “Of course not.” She stood on the side of the kitchen near another door. Ryan wasn’t certain what it led to. Maura went on. “But it was necessary.”

  “Leaving without a word was necessary?”

  She looked back at him, obviously confused. “I told your mother we were moving out.”

  Ryan found himself at a loss to explain that speaking to him, in particular, had mattered so little to her, and why that oversight mattered so blasted much to him.

  “Where will you stay?” He was proud of the calm logic of his response. If she was indifferent, he could be, as well.

  “In here.” She waved him toward whatever lay beyond the doorway.

  He crossed to her and peered through the doorway into a bedchamber with only one narrow bed and hardly room enough for anything else.

  “This room is for the both of you?” he asked.

  “Aidan was sleeping on the floor in the loft. He’ll not mind being on another floor.”

  She’d given up a house with privacy and space to move about for the necessity of sharing a single bedchamber with her son? How could this possibly be preferable? He had been enduring less-than-ideal housing, but hers had been comfortable. Surely she could have endured a little longer to find something better than this overly snug arrangement. Things had not been so miserable that she couldn’t have waited.

  The outside door opened once more. Aidan stepped inside, a hammer in one hand and a bag of what was probably nails in the other.

  “Good to see you, Aidan. You’ve been put to work, I see.”

  Aidan smiled proudly. “I’m hanging a quilt from the ceiling beam.”

  “Dividing the room in two,” Maura explained. “Aidan and I will each have a bit of privacy that way.”

  “You had plenty of privacy before.”

  She ignored him. Pointedly ignored him. She knew, then, that this was a worse situation for her and her son. Then why was she insisting on it?

  “You don’t have to do this, Maura,” he said. “The soddie won’t be uncomfortably cold for weeks yet. And with my harvest starting tomorrow, you’d have the house mostly to yourself for most of those weeks. You’ll likely not see me for days on end. You can wait to find something better for you and Aidan than tucking yourselves into one small room.”

  Though Aidan didn’t say anything or look at his mother, Ryan knew his attention was pricked. His posture held something hesitant but hopeful. The lad clearly didn’t want to be pressed into so small a space after having the loft to himself.

  “Come back,” Ryan insisted. “There’s time enough for finding something better. And who’s to say you won’t be the one chosen to keep the house in the end? You’re being hasty here, lass.”

  “I am not being hasty.” She turned and faced him directly. Heavens, he’d become well acquainted with that look of stubborn determination these past weeks. “This is for the best. It’s necessary.”

  “It really isn’t,” he countered.

  “It really, really is.”

  Aidan turned back to his task, but with a slump to his shoulders. Could she not see his disappointment? What could possibly make her eager enough to unnecessarily leave the house she’d lived in the past weeks despite her child’s unhappiness?

  “Were you so miserable?” He dreaded the answer but needed to know.

  “I wasn’t miserable at all.” She stood with shoulders back, chin at a stubborn angle. “But this is for the best.”

  He stepped up beside her, his back to Aidan, and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Not long ago, you were so ill that you crumpled to the ground. Living here likely means longer work hours and never being away from your duties. Your health will deteriorate faster.”

  Her posture softened. Tenderness filled her eyes as she looked at him, and he felt the change in her wrap his heart in a blanket of warmth. “I’ll take care of myself,” she said. “Katie and I have agreed that I will not do any work from after supper each night until after the children leave for school in the morning. I’ll have time to rest.”

  “But will you rest?” He knew her stubbornness too well to trust that she would.

  Her smile was a little to
o lacking in commitment for his peace of mind.

  “You could come back,” he said quietly, a little hesitantly. “I’d like you to.”

  She held his gaze, her brown eyes searching his. “Why?”

  The question caught him unaware. Did she really need a reason beyond the many he’d already listed? “You’d be far more comfortable, Maura. Ma has enjoyed having you nearby. Though I’ve every confidence in Katie’s commitment not to require you to work after hours, being away from here would guarantee you wouldn’t. And Aidan would have space of his own again. ’Twould be for the best.”

  Her eyes shifted to the room, where Aidan had climbed onto a chair. “Can you reach, lad?”

  He nodded. “It’s not too high.”

  “Maura?” Ryan pressed. He’d answered her question but had received no reply.

  She didn’t look back at him. “This is for the best.”

  Her declaration held a finality he could not misunderstand. Nothing more was to be said on the matter.

  He stepped backward and popped his hat on his head. “I wish you luck then, Miss Maura. Take care of yourself.”

  “And you.” She spoke without turning toward him in the least.

  He left. What else could he do? The walk back up the road toward home—which was really destined to be his now, if he could convince Tavish and Cecily to sell—felt longer than usual. His mind and heart were heavy. In all the years he’d thought about the possibility of his own home, he’d never imagined a weight on his chest when the moment arrived.

  He’d won.

  And he was miserable.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Weekly supper with the O’Connors felt less uncomfortable than it had. Maura had begun to find her place among them. Knowing she was finding ways to help, however quiet and unnoticed, meant she worried less about being a burden. She could simply sit among them, seeing the joy in Aidan’s face as he interacted with the family he was coming to love, and be grateful that he had a home in Hope Springs. Their current accommodations were less than ideal, but the benefit of being near family and the joy of having helped two families, Tavish and Cecily, as well as Ryan and his ma, outweighed all that.