by Renee Ryan
Bridget heard the hoarseness in his grizzled voice, the pride behind his words. He was obviously ashamed the house had gotten away from him. She wanted to ease his worry, to help him see they weren’t here to judge him or his efforts. “We’ve lived through famine and drought. We aren’t afraid of hard times or hard work.”
Arms folded over his chest, he assessed her then Nora then Bridget again with a noncommittal aloofness. Despite his gruff exterior, Bridget saw a good man who took pride in his work, one who took his role of caretaker seriously. “You will stay on, won’t you?” she asked.
“I suppose.”
“Splendid.”
Cameron Long, silent throughout this exchange, stepped forward and set the basket in his arms on the table with a loud thump. “I brought you some things, Agnes.”
The woman bristled, the bowl of beans in her lap bobbling. “You know we don’t need your charity.”
“Who said this is charity?” He gave her one of his big, friendly smiles. “You’ll pay me back when you’re able.”
The comment solidified what Bridget already knew about Cameron Long. He was a kind, down-to-earth man with a generous heart.
Agnes’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’re a good boy,” she said, patting his hand.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Anything for my favorite girl.”
“Oh, honestly,” she shoved at him with a surprising burst of energy. Setting aside her bowl, she rummaged through the contents, her smile wobbling. “Coffee, flour, sugar, eggs.” She looked up at her husband, then quickly thrust her hand back into the basket. “A cured ham.”
Nora took charge, wordlessly handing Grace over to Bridget. “Let me put these supplies away and fix us all something to eat.”
While she went to work, Bridget took baby Grace and sat back at the table. “That cow outside, is she a milk cow by chance?”
Agnes nodded. “She is.”
Bridget caught Nora’s eye and smiled. Fresh milk would be readily available for the baby. It was another blessing to add to their list.
With that matter solved Bridget proceeded to entertain everyone with tales from their trip across the Atlantic. She told them about the widow Mrs. Fitzwilliam, her search for her missing stepgranddaughter and, of course, the McCorkle brothers. She highlighted how Maeve’s quick thinking had saved little Emmett’s life. Halfway through the story, the sheriff cut her off. “You mean to say, the other two boys stowed away on the ship?”
His expression reminded Bridget he was a lawman first, a friend second. “Yes,” she said carefully. “Flynn, the ship’s doctor, had taken Emmett on board before they could come forward. They had to follow or be left behind. And besides, they couldn’t let their brother sail to America without them.”
She didn’t add that the boys’ original intent had been to stow away together, all three of them, before the injury changed their plans. Best not to get anyone in trouble. “Once Dr. Gallagher found out about the other two boys, he put them to work around the ship so they could earn their passage.”
The sheriff lifted a single eyebrow. “That was certainly resourceful of Dr. Gallagher.”
“Kindhearted, too.” Bridget rose, hoping to end the conversation there. She should probably set the table, but wasn’t sure what to do with Grace.
Agnes offered the perfect solution. “May I hold her?”
“Of course.” Bridget surrendered the baby then went to help Nora.
Once the meal was served, and everyone was sitting at the table, conversation flowed easily. Talk turned to a local mill, the Huntley-something-or-other. Bridget hadn’t caught the full name. Assuming they were speaking about the mill she’d seen on her way into town, she asked, “What sort of mill is it?”
“A chocolate mill,” Agnes said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s been in the area for nearly seventy-five years, begun by one of Faith Glen’s founders, Reginald Black.”
She straightened at the name. “Black? Any relation to William Black?”
“Absolutely,” the sheriff said. “Your new employer owns the largest mill in the area. He ships his chocolate cakes all over the world, the kind used for baking.”
James joined the conversation, his hard voice of earlier softened now. “The Huntley-Black chocolate also makes the best warm cocoa I’ve ever tasted.”
Bridget digested this new information. She wasn’t surprised to discover Will was a successful business owner. Even in his desperation to find a mother for his children, he’d had an air of confidence that indicated a man used to being in charge.
Which begged the question: Why had he chosen to send all the way to Ireland for a bride? What had driven him to settle for a marriage in name only instead of seeking a love match?
The sensible voice in her head warned her to reconsider working for William Black. There were too many unanswered questions surrounding him.
Her heart told her he needed her help. Bridget knew she would go with her heart, as always.
Decision made, she spent the rest of their visit getting to know her future housemates better.
* * *
Too excited to sleep, Bridget clambered out of bed early the next morning. Night had yet to surrender fully to dawn. Shadows still flickered across the floor at her bare feet.
She loved this time of the morning, when everything seemed possible. By the afternoon she and Nora would have their answer about the deed. A formality, she reminded herself. Nothing more. There would be work ahead of them, hard work, and she looked forward to every aching muscle.
Dressing quickly, she chose serviceability over style. She would be spending her day with two three-year-olds. That meant short attention spans on their part, exhaustion on hers and flat-out good fun for them all.
Bridget did not attest to the common notion that children should be kept inside and out of mischief. Children, in her mind, should be children. She remembered her own youth, how she and her sisters had spent hours fishing and digging for buried treasure with the Donnelly boys.
With impatience making her fingers fumble, she managed to lace up her boots after only two tries. She then twisted her hair into a single braid down her back and after a quick breakfast, rushed out of the house.
Nora was already waiting for her on the porch, leaning against the wall as she fed Grace.
“Am I late?” Bridget asked, skidding to a stop then hopping on one foot to regain her balance.
“Actually, you’re early.”
Relieved, she sank onto the top step. “We have a big day ahead of us.”
“Our very own new beginning,” Nora added.
“You scared?” she asked over her shoulder, smiling.
“A little. But excited, too.”
“Scared and excited, that describes how I’m feeling perfectly.”
Bridget closed her eyes and lifted up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. God had brought them here safely. He’d blessed Maeve with a doting husband, and had provided both Bridget and Nora with a means to earn money. They would eventually restore the house Laird O’Malley had built for their mother. In the process they would provide a safe home for James and Agnes Coulter, as well as themselves.
Thank You, Lord, she whispered in her mind. May Your blessings continue. I pray You use me as Your instrument to tend to the children in my care.
She opened her eyes just as Cameron Long drew his rickety wagon to a halt in front of the boardinghouse.
“You ladies look especially lovely this morning.” He included Bridget in the quick sweep of his gaze, but his eyes lingered on Nora, as they seemed to do often.
Bridget hid a smile behind her hand. Her sister did look especially pretty this morning. Her dark hair gleamed in the early-morning sun, the soft light shooting gold threads t
hrough the rich brown. She’d wrapped Grace in a blue swaddling blanket, the softer tone a nice contrast to her darker dress.
After making it clear they were to call him Cam or Cameron, not sheriff, the short trek to Will’s house was made in companionable silence. By the time Cameron reined in his horse, Bridget was blinking up in wonder at the most beautiful house she had ever seen.
There were rows of windows on three full stories. The first and second floors were identical to one another. Each had five sets of windows and shutters. The top level could possibly be an attic? Or maybe a loft?
It was a large home, meant for a large family, a dream manifested in brick and mortar and seventy-five-year-old wood.
Suddenly overcome with a moment of sorrow, Bridget had to look away. She feared something dreadful had stolen the happiness William Black and his children deserved.
Unaware of her change in mood, Cameron helped her to the ground with a smile. Just as she steadied herself the front door flung open and a pair of loud squeals erupted in the air.
“Miss Bridget!”
Two tiny blurs bulleted down the walkway. Little Olivia stopped short of running into Bridget. Caleb, on the other hand, slammed into her legs, nearly toppling them both.
Cameron steadied Bridget with a hand on her arm. She steadied Caleb in the same manner.
Disaster avoided.
She smiled her thanks to the tall man then focused her attention on her new charges. Their faces were full of joy and they practically bounced in place.
“We’ve been up for hours,” Caleb said.
“Hours and hours,” Olivia added.
Heart in her throat, Bridget laid a hand on both their heads, ruffled the matching light auburn hair, and then sighed. She was completely and utterly doomed. Her affection for these two children was quickly outdistancing her ability to remember she’d agreed to work for Will only on a trial basis.
Who had she been kidding with that stipulation? She was here to stay.
Cameron’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Your sister and I will be gone most of the day.” He climbed back into the wagon, acknowledged the man striding down the walkway with a hitch of his chin, then turned back to Bridget. “Ben will be at the jail all day. Let him know if you need anything in our absence.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured them both.
Fighting to contain a surge of anxiety as the wagon rolled away, Bridget offered up a silent prayer that all would go well at the County Clerk’s Office.
“Miss Bridget.” Olivia tugged on her skirt, her shoulders rocking back and forth in a little girl dance. “What are we going to do today? Tell me. Tell me.”
“Oh, we’re going to do lots of things.”
“Like what?” Caleb demanded eagerly.
Bridget leaned over and placed her hands on her knees. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“All right, children. Don’t crowd your new nanny.” Will’s voice slid over her like a cool splash of water.
Feeling her cheeks warm in response, Bridget raised her gaze to his. “Hello, Will.”
“Hello.” He stared into her eyes a moment, and then—finally—he smiled.
The sky tilted, the ground shifted beneath her feet, her equilibrium shattered. With very little effort William Black could hook her heart just as thoroughly as his children had.
She’d never felt this drawn to a man. Not even Daniel had been able to steal her breath so completely.
Still holding her gaze, Will took her arm. “Come, Bridget.” His eyes said things she had no idea how to interpret. “Come and meet my mother.”
She looked up toward the house, only just now noticing an older woman standing in the doorway, her smile wide and full of welcome. A beautiful woman despite her advancing years, Esther Black wore a light pink dress with a lace collar and matching cuffs. The pretty, soft color set off her white hair and blue, blue eyes. A lovely woman, to be sure, but there was no mistaking the exhaustion in her gaze and the tight lines of fatigue around her mouth.
I was right to come here and serve this family.
Chapter Ten
Hand pressed lightly on her arm, Will directed Bridget toward his house, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with his heartbeat. As impossible as it would seem, the woman was more stunning than he remembered.
Her smile had nearly knocked him off his feet. And when their glances had met, then melded, there had been a tangible impact in his gut, the kind that made him think of things he had no right thinking, like maybe Bridget could become more than his children’s nanny.
And…
She wasn’t his, he reminded himself sternly. The woman was Olivia and Caleb’s temporary nanny, here on a trial basis.
One week. Will had one full week to determine if he could trust her in his home and with his children.
The twins, their excitement still in full force, rushed ahead of them then flanked their grandmother. All three smiles were larger than Will had seen in months.
Bridget had better not break their hearts. Or mine.
The thought made Will scowl. “Mother.” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended. “I’d like you to meet Bridget Murphy.” He turned to the woman by his side. “Bridget, this is my mother, Esther Black.”
Bridget favored his mother with a smile that Will wanted for himself.
He looked quickly away.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Black.” Bridget’s soft lilting accent washed over him. Surely no woman with a voice like that could be dishonest.
“Welcome, Bridget.” Taking the children’s hands in hers, his mother stepped backward. “We’re very pleased to have you in our home.”
Already running late and suddenly needing vast amounts of air, Will gathered the papers and ledgers he’d left in the entryway. “Mother, I’ll leave you to help Bridget settle in this morning.”
“Of course.” She walked toward him and then pecked him on the cheek. “What time will you be home tonight?”
“Early enough to escort Bridget to the boardinghouse.”
“Oh,” Bridget said. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Cameron said this was a peaceful town. Surely I could walk the short distance.”
Will felt an odd pang at her words. Whether from her casual reference to Cam or her refusal of his offer, he couldn’t say.
“Nevertheless.” He held her gaze, warning her that the subject was not up for discussion. “I will walk you home this evening. No matter how peaceful our community might be, I won’t have you on the streets alone.”
She studied him a moment, a glint of pleasure in her eyes. “That is very good of you.”
Deciding the matter was settled, he kissed both the children, nodded to his mother and Bridget then left the house as the rest of his family tugged the new nanny into the next room.
One of the last things he heard was the woman’s delighted gasp. “You have a piano.”
His mother’s inevitable response came next. “Do you play, dear?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure in a while, not since—”
Not wanting to hear the rest of Bridget’s answer, Will shut the door behind him with a decided snap. Fanny had played the piano exceptionally well. Her talent had been one of the things that had drawn him to her. He’d wrongfully equated her love of music with a depth of character that had not been there.
He’d been disappointed to discover she’d played to win favor and for no other reason. Music in his childhood home had been for joy, yes, but was also a way to worship the Lord.
Fanny hadn’t wanted anything to do with God, or with Will, as it turned out. After the birth of the twins he’d hoped she’d change her mind, on both counts.
He�
��d been deluding himself, on both counts.
Fanny had continued avoiding church. She’d craved the life she’d left behind in Boston, and had sought it out as soon as the children were weaned. Wishing to see her happy, Will had encouraged her to visit her friends. He’d counted on her missing the children, possibly even him.
Instead her day trips had grown longer, turning into weeks. Then she had…
He shook the rest of his thoughts away and steered his carriage the final rise to the mill.
In the end Fanny had taught him a very valuable lesson. Never again would he be fooled by a pretty face. Never again.
* * *
Bridget folded her arms across her waist, leaned a shoulder against the wall and watched her new charges nap peacefully in their beds. They looked sweetly innocent in their sleep, their little faces relaxed and carefree. A soft, rhythmic snore slipped out of Caleb while Olivia mumbled something incoherent then snuggled deeper under her blanket.
Bridget smiled with pleasure. The twins were completely worn out, as children should be after a day of vigorous activity.
The hours had flown by this morning and she was ever grateful. With Caleb and Olivia occupying most of her time, and nearly all of her thoughts, she’d found little opportunity to fret over what Nora and Cameron might—or might not—discover at the County Clerk’s Office.
Just as well. Bridget had learned long ago that no matter how much she worried about a situation, the outcome never changed. Fear not. Wasn’t that most common command in the Bible? Didn’t the Lord promise to feed and care for His flock, always?
With that in mind, Bridget focused on the sleeping children once again.
Like most three-year-olds, Olivia and Caleb had active, inquisitive minds and were ready to play any game she suggested. But unlike other children their age, there were moments when they possessed an unnatural reserve. It was as if they feared upsetting Bridget. But why? If only she knew the reason behind their restraint.
She needed more information and, sensing their mother’s death was at the heart of the problem, decided to start by finding out what had really happened to the woman.