’Twas Tavish who stepped inside. He spotted her on the instant and gave her one of his heart-melting smiles. That exact look on his face had claimed a rather permanent place in her heart.
“Good day to you, Sweet Katie.” He tossed his wide-brimmed hat onto a nearby bench and shook the dust from his night-black hair with a quick swish of his hand.
“You’re filthy, Tavish O’Connor. I’ve seen potatoes come out of the ground with less dirt clinging to them than you have just now.” Katie delivered the scold with too theatrical a tone to be at all taken seriously. “You come dragging in the whole of the earth with you and likely expect someone else to sweep up after.”
His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “You want me to go back out and take my dirt with me, leaving you here all by your lonesome?”
She shrugged as if his coming or going mattered not at all to her and received a laugh for her efforts. She loved this playful side of him. Even in her darkest hours, he could lighten her heart and take away the weight of the world sitting on her shoulders.
“You’re a troublesome woman, Katie Macauley.” Tavish crossed to where she stood. “What am I to do with you?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m hoping you’ll throw yourself in the river and wash up a bit in hopes of impressing me.”
He brushed a hand along her cheek. Katie felt a blush follow his touch.
“The river’s too cold for that, Sweet Katie.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, though her arms remained folded. She’d long since learned the simple joy of resting her weight against him, letting him prop her up a moment while she regained her strength.
He wrapped his arms protectively around her. “How’s my brother this evening?”
“The same.” She closed her eyes, shutting out the world.
“Then we’ll simply have to be grateful he’s no worse.”
She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head, a loving gesture he’d first adopted some weeks earlier. She’d not grown entirely comfortable with shows of affection, having not known many during her life. But his attentions were so kind and gentle, she had come to love them. He put her a bit away from him, though his hands lingered on her upper arms.
“You’d best go see to cleaning your own self up a bit.” He gave her an overdone look of disapproval. “You’re fair covered with dust and earth and who knows what else.”
She glanced down at the front of her dress and found it just as he’d declared. She was dusted with the dirt he’d brought in from the fields.
Katie shook her head, even as she smiled at him.
“That is just what I hoped to see,” he said, tapping her under the chin with his finger. “Trouble hates nothing so much as a smile.”
“But a smile won’t cure this.” She nodded in the direction of Ian’s bedroom.
“Perhaps not,” he said. “But neither will tears. I can do little to make my brother well again, but I mean to do all I can to see that smile of yours keeping company with your face. The two shouldn’t be parted for anything in the world.”
“So you plan to carry all my burdens for me, is that it?”
He nodded slowly. “I’d have followed you back to Ireland, you know that.”
“I do.” He’d fully intended to do just that, and she was still stunned by the enormity of that sacrifice.
“But since you’ve decided to stay, I’m making it my life’s mission to see that you’re happy here.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Now, I’m going to see if Ian’s dragged his lazy bum out of bed yet.”
When she’d first met Tavish, Katie had taken his teasing remarks as a sure sign he wasn’t serious enough about the realities of life. She’d since learned to know him better. Laughing was his way of dealing with the difficulties.
“You get yourself in there, you unfeeling brother.” She even laughed a bit herself. “Perhaps his first act upon coming back to his senses will be to belt you hard in the gob.”
Something of his humor faded for a moment. “I’d welcome it, I would. Seeing him fit enough to deliver me a fast fist to the face would do my worrying soul a great deal of good.”
He slipped into the bedroom, letting the quilt fall behind him.
Katie stood a moment in the silent room, her heart heavy. She wrapped one arm around her middle and rubbed at her weary face with the other.
She had no medical training, but had spent the day caring for a man too broken to do more than wince or moan deep in his throat. No words. No eye contact. Biddy had turned to her with such trust, such complete confidence. Katie didn’t at all feel equal to that responsibility.
“Losing Ian would destroy Biddy,” she whispered, knowing it to be true.
Ian and Biddy were halves of a whole, two people who seemed at their happiest when with each other. If Ian did not survive, Biddy would carry a burden every bit as heavy and soul-crushing as the one Katie had carried since her sister’s death. Heavier, even. Katie’s heart ached at the thought of her friend hurting so deeply and permanently.
She pushed back the blanket in the bedroom doorway, peeking silently into the room. Biddy still slept in the chair near the bed. Tavish stood at the foot of the bed, watching his brother.
“If he doesn’t pull through this,” Tavish said to Joseph, “Biddy will need extra time to make her payment on the land.”
Katie hadn’t even thought of the money troubles the O’Connors would have. Would the difficulties never end?
“Ian is my best friend, Tavish. I’m not so heartless I would evict his family in the face of so much tragedy.” Joseph slumped in his chair.
“What’ll that do to your neutrality? The Red Road will be up in arms if you show us any mercy.”
Joseph shook his head. “I have helped plenty of them through difficult times. Doing the same for Ian and Biddy won’t be any different.”
Tavish pushed out a breath heavy with tension and sat on the trunk at the foot of the bed. “They won’t see it that way. You know they won’t.”
Joseph didn’t answer, didn’t argue.
Tavish rubbed at the back of his neck. “This will get far worse before it gets better. I’m worried about Katie living off the Irish Road. The Reds have never been happy about that.”
He hadn’t talked to her about that worry. Indeed, he’d been optimistic and more lighthearted than Katie had managed to be. His concern didn’t exactly surprise her. His brother lay at death’s door. He had every reason to be afraid, worried, uncertain, yet his concern still extended to include her. She was touched by that kindness.
“I know you don’t have a replacement housekeeper yet,” Tavish continued, “but if Katie’s not safe—”
“Katie would fiercely object to being sent away before she feels she has fulfilled her obligations.”
“And I would fiercely object to her being the next one of us beaten within an inch of her life.”
She let the blanket fall back into place, her insides coiling with those words. Would the Reds truly attack her?
“It won’t come to that, Tavish.” Joseph’s firm voice reached her from the other side of the quilt.
“This feud has driven people away.” Tavish sounded wearier than he’d allowed himself to appear since discovering Ian unconscious in town. “But no one’s yet died. I worry that’s about to change. If not here in this room, then somewhere and someone else.”
Katie closed her eyes. The simple path of life she’d thought stretched out before her had, in a few short days, turned winding and twisting and filled with fear.
Chapter Three
Joseph sat on the bench of his buggy, trying to keep his mind off the tender good-bye taking place on Biddy and Ian’s front step. Tavish had staked his claim on Katie’s heart weeks earlier, and she clearly returned the sentiment. Joseph could respect that. He could keep to his quiet corner of Katie’s life. He could even manage some semblance of a smile for her when she mentioned Tavish’s name. He cou
ld do all those things. But he didn’t have to like it.
Katie reached the wagon a moment later, and he offered her a hand up.
“Thank you, Joseph.” Even after three months, she still seemed surprised when he showed her that civility.
She settled on the bench and tucked her feet behind her skirts as she always did, keeping her battered shoes out of sight. He knew that the state of her footwear bothered her but that the broken and scarred state of her feet bothered her even more. He wished he could do something for her, anything to ease even one of her burdens.
“If only Hope Springs had a real doctor.” Katie sighed, long and heavy. “Mrs. Claire is a fine midwife and knows every folk remedy ever thought of, and she’s been so very helpful with Ian, but it would ease my mind considerably to have an actual man of medicine to consult. I worried all day that I’d make a mistake, and he’d be the worse for it.”
He tightened his grip on the reins, resisting the urge to take her hand in his and offer some words of comfort. You are her employer. And she has given her heart to someone else.
“There is nothing for it but to wait and see what the next few days hold for him.” Joseph took some pride in his businesslike tone. If he could feign indifference, perhaps he would eventually learn to feel it.
Katie nodded. “We’ve a saying in Ireland much like that. ‘For what cannot be cured, patience is best.’”
He flicked the reins, urging the horse along. Patience was all well and good, but it wasn’t the most satisfying companion. Distraction was more often the best approach where his feelings for Katie were concerned. He certainly had enough to worry about.
His first thought upon hearing of Ian’s condition was fear for his friend. But immediately afterward came concern for Katie. Was she still safe in his home? Would the Red Road take out their anger on her? He hated that he did not know the answer to those questions.
The wagon rolled over the bridge that led off the Irish Road. His house sat first after the bridge, the no-man’s-land in the town’s decade-long feud. He was caught in the middle in every sense of the word.
“Seems the girls arrived home before we did.” Katie motioned toward the barn, easily visible from the bridge.
Finbarr O’Connor sat in the back of his father’s wagon, playing some kind of game with Joseph’s daughters. Though only sixteen, Finbarr had the patience of a saint and the uncanny ability to keep the girls occupied. Ivy saw him as a fun friend and playmate; Emma was half in love with him. If Emma hadn’t been only nine years old and if Finbarr hadn’t been the most trustworthy young man of Joseph’s acquaintance, he might have worried about that.
Joseph raised his hand in greeting to Mr. O’Connor and received the same gesture in return. He pulled up to the side of the O’Connor wagon.
“How’s my son?” Mr. O’Connor asked, his expression tight and worried.
“There’s been no change.” Katie’s tone twisted with guilt. She blamed herself for far too many things that weren’t her fault.
The discouragement in all of their faces pricked at Joseph. These were good people, yet terrible things continually happened to them.
“At least he isn’t growing worse,” Joseph put in, hoping to give them at least a little hope to cling to.
Their nods of acknowledgment were noticeably low on enthusiasm.
Joseph lifted his daughters down from the O’Connor wagon, keeping little Ivy in his arms. “Send word if you need anything.”
Mr. O’Connor nodded in understanding and with a quick twitch of the reins, had his wagon turned about and on its way back toward the Irish side of the valley.
“Pompah.” Ivy turned his head with her tiny hands, bringing his gaze to her face. “Is Mary’s papa still ill?”
“Yes, dearest. He is still very ill.” Joseph had decided the moment he heard about the nature and extent of Ian’s injuries to spare his daughters those details. They’d seen too much hatred in their short lives without knowing just how deep it ran in Hope Springs.
Ivy laid her head on his shoulder. Joseph felt Emma’s hand slip in his. He glanced down. Her nine-year-old eyes were often too old and knowing for his peace of mind. She, it seemed, suspected there was more to the difficulties than he’d let on. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he could see she still worried.
“What say you to a steaming pot of potato-and-leek soup?” Katie jumped in.
Joseph could see in the strain of her smile that she made every effort to appear cheerful. Did she sense the girls’ uneasiness as well? Though she’d thoroughly protested her inadequacy as a caregiver for the children initially, she’d proven her worth again and again.
“Can we have bread too?” Ivy asked hopefully.
Katie put her hands on her hips and eyed Ivy with a teasing scold. “Now what kind of baker woman would I be if I didn’t serve bread with the soup? You just tell me that, now.”
“No kind of baker woman at all.” Ivy shook her finger in rhythm to her words, even managing the tiniest bit of an Irish inflection.
Joseph smiled to hear it. He very much liked the idea of Katie being an influence in his daughters’ lives. They would do well to learn from her strength and determination.
“Could it be soda bread?” Ivy pleaded.
Katie nodded. “I think it’d best be; we haven’t time enough for making anything else.”
Ivy’s grin was wide as a Wyoming horizon.
“Come on then, sweet thing.” Katie reached out for her. “We’ll get you and your sister washed up just quick as can be and have your supper on the table as well.”
Ivy willingly made the switch from Joseph’s arms to Katie’s. Though he loved the feel of his little girl in his embrace, giving her over to Katie felt as natural as anything in the world.
Katie loved both his girls. She simply didn’t love him.
Emma moved to Katie’s side as well. Joseph nodded her on toward the house; he needed to tend to the horse. And he needed a few minutes of quiet to settle his thoughts.
He’d only just turned in the direction of the barn when Katie’s voice, steady but uncertain, called out to him. “You seem to have yourself a visitor, Joseph Archer.”
A visitor? He looked back over his shoulder. A silhouette stepped out of the shadows of the back porch. Joseph knew him after a moment. Bob Archibald.
Bob Archibald despised the Irish more than anyone else in town did, and he’d never attempted to hide his animosity. He’d been behind most of the escalations in the Hope Springs feud over the years. Though he had no proof, Joseph firmly suspected Bob Archibald had a hand in Ian’s current state.
Katie had frozen in the yard, the girls standing close at her side. Joseph crossed the yard in a few quick strides. He’d not have Bob infecting the girls with his vitriol. And he absolutely would not allow the man to insult or threaten Katie.
“Bob.” He nodded his acknowledgment.
“I came to see how that Paddy is doing.” Bob’s smile was that of a man enjoying another’s suffering.
Katie’s posture stiffened. The Reds called every Irish person in Hope Springs “Paddy” and in the same sneering tone Bob Archibald had used.
Joseph joined Katie and the girls. “Go on inside,” he told them in as quiet and calm a voice as he could manage. To his unwelcome visitor he said, “I don’t know anyone named Paddy.”
“You know the one,” Bob answered. “Rumor has it he fell and hurt himself.”
Emma’s worried eyes turned up to Joseph. He motioned her once more toward the door. Katie took her hand and pulled her along. That she knew what to do without him specifically asking was a blessing.
As soon as Katie and the girls were inside, Joseph took up the discussion with Bob once more. “I think you know perfectly well that Ian O’Connor didn’t fall.”
Bob managed an almost believable look of uncertainty and rubbed his chin as if in thought. “Is that so? I am certain I heard he tripped.”
As much as he hated playing the sn
ake’s game, Joseph could see no other way of getting the information he sought, short of storming down the Red Road himself and demanding the guilty parties identify themselves.
“One has to wonder why a man as peaceable as Ian O’Connor, one who never causes trouble nor stirs things up, would ‘trip’ that way,” Joseph said. “One would expect such a thing to happen to someone with a reputation for fanning the flames.”
“Yes, one does have to wonder about that.” The oily smile disappeared, replaced by a look so pointedly serious Joseph couldn’t help but feel a wave of apprehension. “It seems to me it would be best if everyone got it into their heads where they belong.” His eyes darted quickly, almost imperceptibly, toward Joseph’s house.
Joseph forced himself to take a calming breath. As angry as the feud made him, he alone stood in a position to reason with both sides. Pummeling Bob Archibald would not help in the long run.
“I have to disagree with you there,” Joseph said. “What would actually be best is for both sides of this ridiculous argument to forget about beating each other down and mind their own business for once in their lives.”
One side of Bob’s mouth tipped. He plopped his hat on his head. “You had best keep a weather eye out, Archer. Things can get a little stormy this time of year.”
Joseph watched him go, a weight settling in his stomach. Bob hadn’t come simply to gloat over Ian’s injuries; Joseph felt certain of that.
The Red Road had never been happy about Katie living off the Irish Road. They had made an issue of it almost from the beginning.
Panic flared on the instant. Ian’s injuries remained fresh in his mind. If that happened to Katie . . .
Having her nearby was the greatest thing that had happened to him since his wife died. The girls loved her. He loved her. But if she wasn’t safe in his home, on his land, he could not—would not—keep her there.
His new housekeeper would not arrive until the end of harvest, some weeks down the road. Practicality demanded he keep Katie there until he had a replacement. His own loneliness called out for the same. More than mere loneliness—she was such a crucial part of his life that he couldn’t imagine his days without her. But how could he ask her to stay if there was even the tiniest possibility any harm would come to her?
Hope Springs (Longing for Home - book 2, A Proper Romance) Page 2