“Jack? Where are you?”
“Here, Cait!” He stepped out from the barn, caught her in his arms, and held her tightly. “I’m right here.”
CHAPTER 14
WHAT’S happening with Sheena?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Caitrin whispered. “Sure, your mother’s the only one with experience in these matters. I’ve come to fetch Sheena’s sewing basket so I can stitch the wound.” She clung to him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
“Oh, Jack, how could this terrible thing have happened? Whatever shall we do?”
He swallowed, aware suddenly that this interlude with Caitrin might be the last. The trouble between his mother and Sheena O’Toole could seal the Cornwalls’ fate in the community. There would be no courtship of Caitrin.
“We’d better pray,” he said. “Pray for Sheena. Pray my mother can help her hang on to that baby.” He took both her hands in his. “Father, please fix this mess. Look after Sheena, and show Mama how to take care of that baby. Amen.”
“Amen,” Caitrin murmured. “Oh, Jack, I’d no idea Sheena was expecting a baby. Which of them started the trouble? Sure, ’tis all a blur to me now.”
“They just went after each other.”
“Aye, and they raced outside before I knew it. Then you and I tried to separate them. I took hold of your mother. You went for Sheena, and Mrs. Cornwall threw the poker—oh, Jack!” She buried her head in the hollow of his neck.
“I’ve got you, Caitrin. I’m here.” As he held her close, a warmth flooded through Jack’s chest and filled him with determination. At all cost, he would protect this woman from pain. He would shelter her, shield her, from the fire that raged around them.
“’Tis the end of it then,” Caitrin said softly. “You’ll have to leave Kansas, Jack. They gave you a month of grace, and ’tis been less than that. Your mother struck Sheena with the poker. If she loses the baby—”
“The trouble wasn’t my doing. It happened between the women.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll bear the brunt of it, so you will. Sure, Jimmy will latch onto any reason to drive out your family. He and Sheena have no use for Cornish.”
Jack tightened his arms around Caitrin, looking into her green eyes, praying he could memorize her in case he never saw her again.
“Jimmy doesn’t trust you,” she said, echoing his own fears. “If he learns you were near Sheena when she fell, he’ll cry for blood.”
“Don’t worry. I can stand up to Jimmy.”
“Sure, you can’t save yourself and the whole world, Jack.”
“No, but I’m putting my faith in someone who can. Caitrin, look at me.” He took her shoulders in his hands and forced her to meet his eyes. “Tell me you want me to stay here. Tell me I mean that much to you—and not just as a child of God. Say you want me for the man I am, and I’ll tear down anything that tries to come between us.”
“I do want you to know how much I care about you, and I know you love God … but I’m … I’m sometimes frightened of the fierce spirit I see inside you, Jack. How can I be sure this boldness is all for good? The things you did before were so … I know you had your reasons, but you were a ruthless man. You were ironfisted and unyielding. You were merciless.”
“Is that what you think of me now, Caitrin? Do you want me to carry my past around forever like an old sack of garbage?” Hands behind her neck, he stroked his thumbs across the velvet pink of her cheeks. “You once told me I was precious to God. Those were words I’d never heard. I believed you, Caitrin. I read in the Bible that if any man is in Christ, he’s a new creature. Old things pass away, and all things are made new. That’s why I came to Hope looking for a fresh start. I want to be different, inside and out. But I can’t do that if people tie the bad stuff in my past around my neck and make me haul it around.”
“Have you truly changed, Jack?” she asked softly. “Or will some spark set the flames to raging inside you again?”
Unable to resist, he kissed her lips, pressing her tightly to him. “I don’t think the flames inside me have ever stopped raging or ever will. I’ll always be ironfisted. I’ll always be stubborn and rough. But I’ve come to believe that God can take the man he created and use me for his good purposes. He used Peter, didn’t he? That fellow was no angel. He was always mouthing off and doing things before he thought them through. But Christ said he’d build his church on Peter.”
“Aye, but—”
“So why can’t he use me, Caitrin?” He crushed her against him. “Tell me the answer to that!”
“Christ has put his Spirit inside you, and he can use for his good the fire that burns in your heart. But, Jack, I don’t know that the people here in Hope have the wisdom and tolerance to see that far.”
“I don’t give a hot potato what the people here see in me,” he said. “Who I am and what I do is up to God. You’re the only person who matters to me, Caitrin. You.”
She clutched his shirtsleeves, knotting the fabric in her fingers. “Oh, Jack Cornwall, whatever is to become of us? More than ever now I see the matching zeal in our hearts. ’Tis true what I said so long ago—we are that pair of candles burning brightly. But I asked you before, and I’ll ask it again: What future can a candle have on a windswept prairie? What do you want of me?”
“I want your fire. I want us to be a bonfire together. One big, blazing bonfire that God can use to turn raw ore into gold, a fire that everybody can see for miles around.”
“Jesus taught that we’re not to hide our light under a basket; we’re to shine for all to witness. But, Jack, I must think of Sheena and Jimmy. I love them! I want to honor and respect their wishes. They’re the only family I have. And how can I be sure something won’t go terribly awry? Sure, your mother has a sharp tongue, and Lucy bears such troubles, and—”
“And people don’t come in pretty little packages with bows on top, Caitrin. God loves all of us no matter what, and I reckon we should do our best to follow his example. But this is not about Mama and Lucy. This is about you and me, Caitrin. Say the word, and I’ll leave town. Right now. But if you ask me to stay, I will. I won’t budge an inch, no matter what anyone says or does.”
As he held her, he could see the crowd hurrying across the bridge, Sheena hoisted on a blanket among them. Some of her children were crying. Jimmy was barking orders left and right. The mongrel dog yapped like there was no tomorrow as Chipper ran along beside him. Over all the clamor, Sheena’s keening filled the air.
“They’re coming,” Caitrin whispered, turning to look.
Before she could push away, Jack bent and kissed her lips.
God, my heart cries out for her! The prayer was torn from his very soul. Please don’t take this woman from me. Make a place for us. Give us hope, Father God. I beg you, give us hope.
“Stay,” Caitrin whispered against his cheek. “I want you to stay, Jack.”
“I will.” His soul soared.
“But I cannot be with you in secret. If we’re to be a bonfire, we can’t go on hiding in the shadows.”
“May I have your permission to come courting?”
She glanced up, surprise lighting her emerald eyes. “Aye,” she said, a laugh bubbling from her throat as he caught her up in his arms and swung her around. “You may court me, Mr. Cornwall. I’ll ask Rosie to chaperone. Now set me down before we turn the town on its head with our shenanigans!”
Before he could respond, she pulled out of his embrace and dashed for the O’Tooles’ soddy. He followed, lifting up a prayer for Sheena. But his footsteps pounded out the song in his heart. Stay! I want you to stay, Jack! Stay, stay, stay!
“He’ll have to go,” Jimmy muttered. “The whole lot of them Cornish devils will have to go.”
“Whisht, Jimmy,” Caitrin said as she stood beside her brother-in-law in the silent soddy. “There may have been trouble between them, but Mrs. Cornwall is helping Sheena now. Don’t spark up the strife again.”
She clamped
her hands together under her chin as she watched Felicity working. The younger woman lay unmoving on the bed, her head wrapped in a white bandage where Caitrin had stitched the gash made by the poker. The scent of burning lamp oil suffused the room, and the golden light gave it a churchlike atmosphere.
Felicity regarded Jimmy solemnly. “Your wife has kept her baby,” she announced.
“Glory be to God,” Jimmy said, letting out a deep breath. In two strides, he was at Sheena’s side, kneeling by the bed and pressing his lips against her hand. Sheena stroked her husband’s damp red hair. “Are you all right, my love?”
“Aye,” she croaked. “The pains are going now. Oh, Jimmy …”
He muffled her sobs with tender kisses. “’Tis all right, my honey-sweet. Sure, ’tis going to be fine now.”
“I’m so … so sorry.”
“Malarkey. You’ve no need to say that.”
“But I … I …”
“If you’ll leave us be now,” Jimmy said, turning to the three women in the room. “My wife’s a donsie thing. She’ll be needin’ her rest, so she will.”
“Aye,” Caitrin said softly. “Sheena, I must go and tend the wee brablins. Will you be wanting anything more from me?”
“Nay.” Sheena sniffled.
Rosie picked up her medicine bag, wrapped her arms around it, and led the way out the door of the soddy. Felicity Cornwall followed, and Caitrin took up the rear. The O’Toole children stood barefoot on the hard-beaten earth yard and stared with great emerald eyes at the women.
“Your mama is fine now,” Felicity told them. “And so is the baby. God willing, your healthy brother or sister will be born in the autumn.”
Their faces broke into radiant grins as the woman turned and strode toward the bridge. Caitrin stared after her, wondering what thoughts had leapt into Felicity’s mind during those terrible minutes when uncertainty gripped everyone. Would she admit her guilt in the conflict? Would she beg forgiveness of Sheena? Could Jimmy ever make peace with the Cornwalls?
“Caitrin.” Rosie took her friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “We saw you with Jack. As we were bringing Sheena across the creek, we saw the two of you by the barn. He was kissing you. Jimmy saw it, and the things he said against Jack were vile. Oh, Caitrin.”
“Jack’s a good man, Rosie. He’s begging for a chance to show that he’s changed.”
“He won’t get it. Not with that kind of behavior.”
“He was comforting me.”
“They’ll drive him off, Caitie. I’m sure of it.”
“No,” Caitrin said, her voice low and determined. “Jack Cornwall is going to stay.”
“He’ll have to go,” Seth said, wiping his face with a red kerchief. He looked at the two women on the front porch of his new house and shook his head. “I don’t care how many horses Jack can shoe in a day, Caitrin. After Sheena nearly lost her baby the other day, Jimmy’s bound and determined to run him off.”
“But he’s living and working on your land,” Caitrin said. “Jimmy has no right to tell Jack anything.”
Seth’s blue eyes flickered. “You better figure out where your loyalties lie, ma’am. Don’t get me wrong now; I understand the feelings that can grow between a man and a woman. But you deserve better than Jack Cornwall. A lot better.”
“How well do you know him, Seth?” Caitrin asked, her blood heating. “Only the other day Jack asked me if he must live with his past tied around his neck. Is he to be forever labeled a wicked man, with no chance to prove himself changed?”
“It’s just like those tomatoes I canned last summer, Seth,” Rosie put in. “I pasted the labels onto the jars with good strong glue—TOMATOES. But then I found those awful grubs in them, and they weren’t fit to eat. Just the thought of it makes me sick.”
“Now, Rosie,” Seth warned. “Don’t tie your stomach in knots again. We’ve had months of that.”
“Anyhow,” she went on. “I threw out the tomatoes—flat got rid of those nasty things. And with the strawberries beginning to leaf out, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about strawberry jam. I’d sure like to put strawberry jam in the jars—but I can’t get those labels off no matter how hard I scrub!”
“Aw, Rosie, these days you’re always thinking about food.”
“I am talking about Jack Cornwall,” she snapped, her brown eyes dancing. “Everybody in this town has pasted a great big label on him that says BAD MAN, when maybe he’s trying to toss out the nasty stuff and put good things inside. He needs a chance to write himself a new label.”
“Maybe so,” Seth said, tucking his kerchief into his back pocket. “But it doesn’t really matter what I think of the fellow, good or bad. Sheena’s opinion ought to be what counts the most with Caitrin. Sheena and Jimmy are her kinfolk. Jimmy holds Felicity Cornwall accountable for the troubles the other day, and I can hardly disagree with him.”
“But she helped Sheena after she’d fallen,” Caitrin said. “’Twas Felicity who brought the water that calmed my sister’s cramps. ’Twas Felicity who examined her for the health of the baby.”
“It was Felicity who went after Sheena with a poker in the first place,” Seth countered.
“Will you order them to leave then?”
“I don’t know what I’ll do.” He settled his hat on his head. “I’ve got sixty acres to plow, a trip to town to buy seed, a wife who’s about to eat me out of house and home, and a son who ought to learn to read and cipher if I don’t want him to grow up wild and ignorant. Folks are talking about the need for a schoolmarm come fall, and they’ve asked if I’d consider putting a school near the church. The church is built all the way up to the steeple, and people are turning to me to find a preacher. After what happened to Sheena, everybody wants me to try to talk a doctor into moving to town. We’ve got more people passing through Hope than we can feed and house. And I’m supposed to help Rolf and Jimmy repair one of the pontoons on the bridge.”
“All that, Seth?” Rosie asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t want to worry you, honey. Not in your condition.” He gave his wife a crooked smile. When he turned to Caitrin, the tenderness vanished. “All I ever wanted to do when I moved to Kansas was be a farmer. But I’m spending half my time as the sheriff, mayor, innkeeper, and general fix-it man. Now you’re asking me to be the town judge, too, Caitrin? Frankly, I don’t know whether Jack Cornwall ought to be kicked out on his backside or not. And I don’t much care, either.”
“Saint Patrick’s Day is tomorrow,” Rosie called after her husband as he stalked away. “You gave the Cornwalls until then. Are you going to run them off?”
“Don’t know!” he repeated. “Don’t care!”
“What a grump.” Rosie shook her head. “Come on, Caitrin, let’s hurry this bread over to the mercantile. Ever since Seth found out I was expecting a baby, he’s been storming around like a big old rain cloud. He’s worried the grasshoppers will come back. He’s fretting about what to plant. He’s crazy to buy another cow, but he wants to keep back some savings. You’d think the whole world dangled by a thread from Seth Hunter’s fingers … instead of being cradled in the almighty hands of the Creator himself.”
“Seth only wants to be sure his family will be cared for,” Caitrin said as they walked down the path toward the mercantile. “He wasn’t able to provide for Chipper and … and his first wife… .”
“Mary. You can say her name; I don’t mind.” Rosie adjusted her skirt over the small bulge of her belly. “I know Seth was married before, and I feel sure his worries stem from that. While Mary was pregnant, he was away at the war. Then she died, and he had done nothing for her or for Chipper either. But, for pete’s sake, Seth is not the same man he was back then. And I’m sure not a thing like Mary Cornwall. Our family can live on wormy potatoes if we have to. I’m the best around at making do on nothing.” She paused a moment. “Did that sound like bragging?”
Caitrin laughed. “Of course not, silly. But I think Seth
’s mood has more to do with his fears than with his worries about what you’ll all eat.”
“What fears?”
“Mary died. Seth lost his first wife, Rosie. He can’t rest easy at the memory of that, and he doesn’t want it to happen again. The birth of your baby will be a dangerous time for you, and after that, too. Seth’s mood is a measure of his great love for you. Sure, I think the loss of you would do him in. Truly I do.”
Rosie stopped outside the mercantile. “Worrying won’t keep me alive, Caitie. But you know something? This town does need a good doctor. And a preacher, too. I might just have to pester Seth about that … if I can get rid of that rain cloud he’s under.”
Caitrin studied the three wagons rolling slowly over the bridge and mentally tallied the tolls they would bring in. Jack Cornwall emerged from the smithy across the street and cocked a hand over his eyes to watch the travelers approach.
“More customers, and this itching is just about to drive me crazy!” Rosie exclaimed, scratching her belly. “We sure could use a doctor with some good medicines and lotions on hand. You know what might put Seth into a better mood? Another party.”
Caitrin groaned inwardly. “He’s not that much on parties, is he? And we’re just past that disastrous welcoming festival.”
“I’m thinking about spring. We could have a party in April when everything’s budding out. The family who lived just beyond the limestone wall of the orphanage used to have an egg hunt every spring. I always wished I could join in. Wouldn’t that be fun, Caitie? We could color eggs, and the children could search for them. Maybe if the Cornwalls are still around, Lucy would be feeling well enough to help out.”
Caitrin frowned as the three wagons drew nearer. It would be wonderful to include Lucy in the preparations for a party. She could just imagine the poor girl’s eyes lighting up and a smile softening her pretty lips. But after the incident between Felicity and Sheena, the Cornwall camp had become as closed off as a fort. Felicity was rarely about, and Lucy hadn’t been seen at all.
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