* * *
The last of his neighbors, bundled against the dropping temperatures, made their way up the road. Ryan set his sights on the house. Maura had gone inside a quarter of an hour earlier to warm up and wait for when Burke intended to check her lungs.
Lanterns burned inside. Burke was likely there already, making his assessment.
Ryan set his shoulders and solidified his determination. No matter what answers they would get that day, he’d be at Maura’s side. He’d offer his strength and support. She’d done the same for him. They were stronger together. Happier.
As he walked toward the house, he eyed the dark skies and faltered a moment. Please don’t take her from me yet. I’ve only just found her.
He received no answer beyond the continued wind and bite in the air. Apparently, the heavens meant to make him wait for an answer.
He pulled open the door to the house and stepped inside. No need to search out Maura; she sat in the middle of the room on a chair. Burke was listening to her lungs with some kind of instrument. Aidan sat with Ma, watching the examination from within the comforting circle of her grandmotherly embrace.
Maura met Ryan’s eye. She looked concerned. Worried. Had Burke said something already?
Be her strength.
Ryan pulled a chair to hers and took her hand. He watched the doctor, waiting.
After a long moment, Burke stepped back, slipping his instrument into his leather bag. He didn’t say anything. His expression gave away nothing of his findings.
Maura twisted enough in her chair to look at the doctor. She kept her hand in Ryan’s, holding fast to him.
The doctor clasped his bag, then faced her once more. “I agree with Dr. Dahl. It is brown lung.”
She nodded silently. Across the room, Aidan paled.
“How long did you keep working in the factory after your symptoms first began?”
“A few months,” Maura said. “I’d’ve seen Dr. Dahl sooner, but it took that long to save the money to have a doctor in.”
Burke nodded. “The disease is usually present for a time before symptoms appear. You’ve likely had brown lung longer than you think.”
Maura’s brows pulled. She watched the doctor closely.
“Having said that, I’d place you in the earliest stages of the disease.”
“That seems like good news,” Ryan said hesitantly.
“Certainly better than the alternative.” Burke was a difficult man to decipher. Ryan never could tell if he was worried or unconcerned, pleased or unhappy. “This is far from the terminal stage.”
“What does that mean?” Aidan asked.
“Terminal means that death cannot be avoided,” Burke said.
“Then she’s not dying?” The poor lad looked desperate for, but terrified of, the answer.
Everyone watched the doctor with as much intensity as Aidan did.
“I cannot promise there’ll be no deterioration,” Burke said. “Brown lung is caused by the accumulation of bits of cotton or other milled material inside the lungs. That material can’t come back out. It remains, irritating and inflaming the lungs. There’s the possibility of more damage to come. Every cold you contract, every lung-related illness, will take a toll.” He was looking at Maura again. “Yours are lungs that will age faster than they ought.”
“How fast?” Her voice didn’t shake. She faced this diagnosis with the fortitude Ryan had come to associate with her.
“Provided you don’t contract any illness that, itself, damages the lungs—tuberculosis, whooping cough, something of that nature—you have every reason to anticipate many years yet. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you have another two decades remaining before the brown lung truly takes its full toll.”
Maura’s grip turned almost painful. Ryan hardly noted it, shocked as he was by Burke’s pronouncement.
“Twenty years?” Maura pressed.
“I cannot guarantee that long, but I do not think it overly optimistic to plan for it.”
Her breaths came sharper and quicker. “Why did Dr. Dahl make so dire a pronouncement?”
“It’s nearly impossible to tell what is permanent and what is irritation from the heavy air being breathed from day to day while you were still at the factory. But you’ve been here a few months, free of that bombardment. What is left, aside from any lingering valley fever, is the permanent damage. I can likely hear it more clearly than he could.”
Maura closed her eyes. She whispered, “We left in time.”
Aidan pulled away from Ma and rushed to Maura, tossing himself into her embrace. Ryan put his arms around both of them. Ma watched, a tear in her eye.
Burke took up his bag and gave a quick nod. “Let me know if you need anything else.” With nothing more than that, not a word of parting or happiness at Maura’s positive diagnosis, he stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.
Ryan didn’t think the doctor was uncaring. He kept very much to himself, closed off. But he could have been the gruffest man on the face of the earth, and Ryan would still have been unspeakably grateful that he was in Hope Springs. He’d brought them reason to look ahead with optimism. He’d given Maura back her life.
After a time, Ma called Aidan over, insisting he help her set out supper.
Ryan and Maura remained near the fireplace. She stood in his embrace.
He hardly had words to describe all he felt in that moment: gratitude, hope, relief. “Thank the heavens I met Burke Jones at the depot mercantile. Bringing him here was a gift straight from above.”
Maura hooked a finger over a button on his shirt, fiddling with it a bit absentmindedly. Her expression, however, was anything but casual. She met his gaze. Heavens, she was crying.
“Oh, Maura.”
“We have time, Ryan. Years. Perhaps decades.”
He brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Even if he had told you that you had mere days, mo stór, I’d have asked you to marry me tomorrow and spend those days together. What he said doesn’t change what I want from the future; it simply changes the length of that future.”
“You are braver than I,” Maura said quietly.
“I know for a fact that is not true. This in particular worries and burdens you. Let me carry this burden. Then come next harvest, when worry over my hay weighs on me, you can help me carry that burden. And we’ll both worry over Aidan and Ma and our neighbors.”
“And we’ll worry over each other?”
He shook his head. “We will love each other. That is my plan.”
“That is one plan I hope you never adjust,” she said.
He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Do you remember not long after you first came, when you asked if I believed in the old ways—fairies and superstitions and such?”
“You said you had a healthy respect for the possibility.”
“There’s one bit of the old ways I believe in entirely,” he said. “Flickering moments of the second-sight.”
She looked up at him, head tilted to the side, eyes wide and brows arched. “Do you have premonitions, Ryan?”
“I have, a few times in my life—nothing specific, no fortunetelling—simply an unshakable knowledge that m’ life was about to change. The most recent was only a few months ago, just before you arrived. I couldn’t say what was coming, only that it was important. I couldn’t shake the feeling, couldn’t explain it away. It grew and grew until that day in the barn when I first saw you.”
“Truly?” she asked quietly.
“I knew in that moment that the change I’d been sensing . . . was you. And I knew that everything was going to be different. I just didn’t know how.”
A hint of guilt tugged at her features. “I brought such upheaval to your life.”
“I feel that you brought me my life,” he said. “You brought me depth and purpose I didn’t realize I’d been missing. It was change, sure enough, but change of the very best kind.”
“Have you any premonitions just now?” sh
e asked.
“I don’t need the second sight to sort out this next part,” he answered. “It’s clear enough.” He took her hands and held them, looking deep into her eyes. “Maura O’Connor, will you build a home and a family with me? Will you let me be part of your life? Will you let me love you? And marry you?”
“Every year I have left is yours,” she said.
“Ours,” he answered.
“Ours,” she repeated in a whisper.
She raised herself on her toes a bit. She set her hands on either side of his face and kissed him, softly and lingeringly. He held her close to him.
“I love you,” she said against his lips.
“And I love you.”
Life had given them a new start and a second chance.
He didn’t mean to waste a single moment.
Chapter Forty-four
The ceremony was a brief one but well attended and universally celebrated. Maura knew much of the delight was for Ryan, who had quietly done so much for his neighbors, but she felt certain a good deal of the happiness was on her account as well. She’d come to Hope Springs utterly unsure of her place or her welcome. She’d found the family she’d missed these past ten years, who loved her and accepted her. She’d found home.
The weather had turned too cold for a large celebration, there being no building in town large enough to hold everyone. Instead, she and Ryan made their way to Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor’s house for a small family lunch and celebration.
James had offered Ryan the use of his wagon for the occasion, something he did with increasing frequency. He also interacted with his brother with far less resentment than in previous months—or, Maura suspected, years. Indeed, the two brothers had even enjoyed a pleasant couple of visits. Maura held out some hope that they would, in time, be reconciled.
She and Ryan had been the last to leave the chapel, having remained behind, receiving particular well-wishes from the preacher and his wife.
Now, as they rolled down the road, Maura rested her head against his shoulder.
“Are you happy then, love?” Ryan asked.
“Blissfully.”
He smiled at her briefly before retuning his gaze to the road. “I do like that answer.”
“And you are happy as well?”
He leaned his head toward her. “Beyond words.”
Minutes later they stepped into the senior O’Connors’ home to a warm family welcome. Music filled the room. The aroma of a dozen different dishes set Maura’s stomach rumbling. She held to Ryan’s hand as they wove though the gathering, receiving embraces and well-wishes.
They were soon situated in adjacent chairs, plates of food balanced on their laps.
Mr. O’Connor called the family to attention. “What a blessed day this has been.” He turned to her. Beneath his smile was a tenderness that touched her deeply. “And Maura, we’re so very happy for you. Having you among us again—you and Aidan—is a joy we never thought we’d know. We thank you for trusting us enough to take the chance on coming and starting a new life here. We don’t take that trust lightly.”
“And we’re right pleased to welcome Ryan to the family,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “You’re most welcome, lad. Most welcome.”
“I’m pleased to be considered one of you,” he said. “I’ve not yet met an O’Connor I didn’t like.”
“Except Tavish,” Ian tossed in.
“You can’t talk that way about me anymore,” Tavish said. “I’m a father now.”
“I’ve been a father for years, but that didn’t change the way you talked about me.”
Tavish shrugged. “Turns out, you’re not worth talking about.”
Ian laughed and gave his brother a shove.
“Speaking of things unsaid,” Mary jumped in, “have you decided on a name for the wee one? It’s been weeks.”
Cecily sat in the rocker, her son in her arms. “We have. Matthew, after my father. And Grady, after his uncle.”
Ryan squeezed Maura’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Matthew Grady O’Connor,” Mary said. “A fine name, that.”
“Fine, indeed,” Mrs. O’Connor declared.
Embraces were exchanged along with quite a bit of teasing. The O’Connors were an inarguably happy family.
Ryan set his plate on a small table nearby, then tucked her up against him.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “This is quite a family to have joined, isn’t it?”
“It is, at that.”
She adjusted, so she sat more comfortably in his arms. “And it is further a fine thing that your ma was already a grandmother to Aidan. He’ll be surrounded by family.”
“You will be surrounded by family as well, my dear,” he said. “You won’t ever have to face this life alone again.”
She twisted enough to brush a kiss to his cheek. A corner of his mouth quirked upward, an endearing sight, one that set her heart pattering a bit.
Aidan slipped over to them. “Is it time for your surprise, Ma? I can bring it over.”
“You’ve a surprise?” Ryan eyed her with curiosity.
“For you, in fact.” She’d been looking forward to this.
A smile twinkled in his eyes. “Your last surprise was a hay shed. I’m full dying of curiosity to see how our Aidan’s meaning to bring a hay shed over.”
Our Aidan. What a heaven-sent blessing this man was.
She nodded to Aidan, who slipped out of sight. “He’s been my partner in crime for weeks now. I’m a little alarmed at how much he has enjoyed stealing things from you.”
Ryan’s eyes opened wide, pulling a laugh from her. Aidan returned in the next moment, Ryan’s canvas bag in his hands.
“My pipes?” His brows pulled low. An instant later, they shot upward. He’d solved the mystery.
She pulled the pipes from the bag and carefully positioned the instrument. Smiles touched faces all around the room. She pumped the bellows and set her fingers on the chanter, beginning the slow strains of “The Minstrel Boy.” Her ability didn’t come close to Ryan’s, but she’d found over the previous weeks that she’d regained much of her skill despite the passage of so many years. She’d practiced again and again over the past weeks, wanting this moment to be special, He had so often said he wished to hear her play. He didn’t look the least disappointed.
The O’Connors cheered when her song came to an end. Ryan kissed her. Aidan grinned.
“Seems we’ve three pipers in town,” Mr. O’Connor said. “Three in one family.”
“Family,” Ryan said. “I do like the sound of that.”
“As do I,” Maura answered.
Aidan returned the pipes to their bag, apologizing with a smile for stealing them.
“Any time your ma wants the pipes, you go get them for her,” Ryan insisted.
“I must not have been too terrible,” Maura said.
“You never cease to amaze me, my Maura.”
She sat in his embrace as the afternoon wore on, watching the family, enjoying their tales and their music and the love they exuded. Coming to Hope Springs had been the right decision. Aidan was joyous. Her health was improved.
Most of all, she had Ryan.
She closed her eyes and let the sound of happiness sweep over her. The warmth of his embrace offered comfort and reassurance and affection she had longed for these past ten years. There had been moments when she’d wondered if the heavens even remembered her. They had, it seemed, simply been waiting for the right moment to bring her and Ryan into each other’s lives.
His beloved voice whispered in her ear. “Do you need to go rest, love? It has been a very busy day.”
Between the disease in her lungs and the remaining impact of her bout with valley fever, she did grow worn more easily than she’d like. Today was no exception. “I likely should.”
Without hesitation, embarrassment, or apology, Ryan simply stood, announced to the room that Maura was asleep on her feet and needed to rest before
her health was affected. The family grew immediately felicitous. Her coat was fetched, along with a quilt, for good measure. Ryan was sternly charged with looking after her. They were given a basket of food to take home, instructions to send word if anything was needed, and ushered out of the house to a chorus of well-wishes.
Ryan handed her up onto the wagon bench and tucked the quilt across her legs, the food basket set securely in the wagon bed. They waved farewell to the family—Aidan included, as he and Mrs. Callaghan had been invited to stay with Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor for a few days—and Ryan led the team to the road.
She tucked herself against him. Heavens, she loved having him near, unfailing in his support and love. “You executed an expert departure just now.”
His body shook with a chuckle. “I knew nothing short of a firm declaration would see us out of there with any degree of haste. I needed only tell them your health depended on it.”
“Which nearly sent them into a panic,” she pointed out.
“If they ever grow suffocating in their solicitousness, you let me know, mo stór,” Ryan said.
“I will,” she said. “But, to be perfectly honest, there’s something comforting in knowing they love me enough to worry.”
They rumbled down the road, reaching the edge of their—their—east fields. The hay shed that the town had built was visible from the road. A heartwarming testament to their place among the people in this tiny corner of the world.
“I’ve been giving thought to my work at Archers,” she said.
“I meant it when I said I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do on that score.”
She stretched enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know, love. I don’t doubt you.”
“Have you made a decision, then?”
She nodded. “I’d like to stay on. If we put the money I’m paid aside, I’d soon have enough to send for Eliza and her little girl. And I’m hopeful I can convince Katie and Joseph to let Eliza take my place. She’s a good worker and a dear person. They’d be happy to have her.”
“And you would be happy to have her here,” Ryan said.
“Very happy,” Maura said. “She’s like a sister to me. I’ve missed her dearly.”
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