Redeemed Hearts

by Cathy Marie Hake

  Da gave her a kiss. “Off with you now. Be happy.”

  Brigit watched in shock as her father walked back inside, effectively abandoning her.

  Twenty-two

  “It’s cold out. Let’s get going.”

  Brigit jolted. “Don’t you dare repeat my words and use them against me.”

  “Do you want me to hire a ride for us, or would you rather walk?”

  “Both.” She flashed him a heated look. “We’ll each do one of those.”

  “We’ll walk. The chilly air might cool your temper.” He said the words so blandly, the scoundrel managed to get a fair hold of her arm and start leading her off before she even realized what he’d done.

  Brigit dug in her heels and hissed, “I need my job. You’re going to spoil it all.”

  “If you’d cooperate even the least little bit, that wouldn’t be a problem.”

  She let out a longsuffering sigh. “You’re making a scene, and the only way I’ll make it through is simply to go along. It doesn’t mean I have to talk to you at all.”

  “That’s fine.” They started to walk again, and he added, “I’ll be happy to do all the talking.”

  Brigit quickened her pace. “You’re impossible. The next thing I know, you’ll be blaming all of this on me because I helped you escape that day. I can’t regret it, though. No, I don’t. I spared those lasses being married off to the likes of you. You would have broken their tender hearts.”

  “I’m thinkin’ you’re the one with the tender heart, Brigit.”

  “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

  He curled his hand around her. “No.”

  Brigit could feel tears burning behind her eyes. She refused to cry. “Let go of me. I declare, if I weren’t such a lady, I’d smack you.”

  “I can see I’m perfectly safe then. It’s clear as a cloudless sky that you’re a lady.”

  “Don’t you try to be charming, Captain O’Brien. I won’t fall for it. No, I most certainly won’t. I already know the truth.”

  “What truth is that?”

  “Shakespeare said it quite well in Hamlet: A man can smile and smile and still be a villain.” Brigit moaned and braced her forehead with one hand as she stared at the slushy ground. I can’t believe I said that to him. Oh, dear Lord above, I’m digging myself a grave here. If I say another word, I’ll likely lose my job.

  “So I’m a villain.”

  Brigit didn’t reply. She concentrated on the toes of her shoes. The hem of her blue dress was getting a wee bit damp. Snow had fallen very briefly today and promptly melted at the edge of the path. Not that it should matter. She really didn’t care a whit about her appearance. It wasn’t as if she wanted to impress anyone—especially Duncan.

  They walked in silence for a ways. Duncan shot her a bold look and mused aloud again, “So I’m a villain. What is my crime?”

  “You’ve stolen my peace of mind,” Brigit snapped. She lifted her arms in the air in an impatient, flinging gesture and started to walk faster still. “I can’t believe you just prodded me into admitting that. Don’t you dare act as if it just happened, because you planned it. You’re a man who plots his course carefully, so I know you meant to hound me. Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to provoke a woman?” She groaned. She’d told him she wasn’t going to speak to him, and here she was, babbling. “If I speak to you any longer, someone is going to certify me a lunatic.”

  “I could lock you in the attic. The door sometimes sticks. No, wait. I can’t do that. You’d end up breaking your neck, climbing out on the roof.”

  “Your humor is—”

  “To mask how I’ve lost my own peace.”

  Brigit cast a glance at him and burst into tears. “You dreadful man. Don’t you even begin thinking I feel the smallest scrap of pity for you.”

  “I don’t want your pity; I want your forgiveness.”

  When she started crying, she’d lost track of where she was going. Brigit plowed into a bush, and Duncan yanked her back and turned her around. He opened his greatcoat, pulled her to his chest, and wrapped her in his arms and warmth. He held her while she soaked his shirt with tears.

  Brigit sucked in a choppy breath and managed to hiccup in the most unladylike way as she let it out. She muttered against Duncan’s chest, “’Tis said God watches out for children and fools. He surely must be watching me now. Honest and true, I’ve made a fool of myself sobbing like a baby.”

  “God is nigh, my sweet. I have no doubt of that. I’ve been calling upon Him to help straighten out this mess, and it’s time we talk. I’ve hurt you badly, and I’m sorry to the marrow of my bones for that.”

  Brigit wiggled out of his arms. Duncan promptly shed his coat and draped it around her shoulders. He held it there by wrapping his arm about her and nudging her to walk.

  “I’ve plenty to say and am trying to decide where to begin. I was so busy fighting Emily’s matchmaking plans that I closed my eyes to any woman. When I took the lads on that voyage with me, I was miserable. Oh—’twasn’t on account of them. ’Twas because from the first time I set foot on a Newcomb ship, I’ve loved to go to sea. That whole trip I didn’t find a moment’s pleasure with sailing. All I did was think of you.”

  Brigit trudged on in silence.

  “By the time I came back, I’d determined you were all I could ever hope for in a bride—a solid Christian woman, you lit up the room when you came in, and you lit up my heart. I nearly kissed you during that snow fight on Phillip’s birthday, but I came to my senses in time. I didn’t want to give anyone call to cast aspersions on our character.”

  He stepped over a fallen branch and lifted her over. Before he set her back down, Duncan waited until Brigit looked into his eyes. Sincerity shone in the depths of his eyes. “I’m ashamed of what I’ll be saying next, but I cannot ask forgiveness if I don’t confess.”

  Brigit bit her lip and nodded.

  Duncan tucked her close to his side, and they continued toward home. “John and Emily told me we had a thief. They’d narrowed down the possibilities until ’twas one of the maids. We talked long into the night. The Bible says perfect love casts out fear. My love for you was far from perfect; and as John and I started to piece together the facts, they all pointed at you.”

  “I never did anything!”

  “I know.” He sighed. “A book and a fountain pen were taken. Trudy and Fiona can’t read or write. Since Trudy started acting moon-eyed, Em always assigned her to work with someone else, so we knew she couldn’t have taken the fan or cameo. Fiona is too clumsy to sneak into any room unnoticed, though we agreed she spends a fair amount of time with the twins and might have taken the doll.”

  “Phillip admitted he took the doll.”

  “Sure and enough, Brigit, he did. The problem was, we didn’t know that at the time. Nothing had ever been stolen until you started working for John and Emily. That alone weighed heavily against you. Worst of all, you’d discovered the little shepherdess statue was missing; but then I saw you with a bundle. You stopped outside your parents’ building and boasted about having things to please your mother.”

  “Cook gave me apricots for M—” She stopped herself, then shrieked, “You followed me?!”

  “Shhh. I’d gone to vote and saw you walking down the street. At the time I needed to figure out where your father was so I could ask him for your hand—so, yes, I did follow you. At the last minute I recalled a promise I’d made to Em. I told her when I found the right woman, she’d be the first to know. I couldn’t very well break my word, so I came home. I went to her, but that’s when she and John told me about the missing things.”

  “So instead you condemned me for being a thief and wanted to chop off my hand.” Every last word made her tight throat ache.

  “All of the evidence was there, Brigit. Wrong as it turned out to be, it stacked up against you. By now you know how Edward hornswoggled my sister Anna into a sham marriage. I hadn’t recovered from that. My pride had me b
elieving you’d been hurting my family right under my nose. The betrayal I felt cut deep. When I saw you on the roof, the last flicker of hope I’d held got snuffed out.”

  “So now you think to woo me? No, Duncan. I don’t want a man who cannot hold more faith in me than that.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  Brigit closed her eyes in horror. She’d just presumed far too much and humiliated herself. Duncan wouldn’t let her pull away, though.

  “I looked into your eyes that night and knew deep in my heart that you couldn’t have stolen a thing. I went against John’s orders and took you to my parents. I wanted you to be sheltered until I could solve the mystery. All along I tried to prove to you that I stood by your side. I came by each day. I made sure you still got your salary, and the household staff figured you were special because I’d chosen you to go help my mama. I even put that Bible verse in the sewing box for you.”

  “You did that? The verse came from you?”

  “Aye, Brigit. I wanted to encourage you. Until I cleared your name, I had no right to speak my heart. I was trying my hardest to brace you up, but I’ve come to see you didn’t understand.”

  “How could I? You’d been trying to trap me all along. I thought you were hovering just to scare me because you thought I’d betray your parents.”

  Duncan groaned. “I’m accustomed to working on a ship with a crew of men. As it turns out, I’m none too good at figuring out how a woman thinks.”

  They’d finally arrived at the back of the estate. Duncan turned her to face out over the ocean. Ships bobbed along the dock. “God’s given me a love for you, Brigit Murphy. It’s big as the ocean. Our ship went through a mighty storm and got stuck on treacherous shoals. Tide’s coming in, and I want our ship to float free. With your forgiveness and God’s blessing, we could sail through life together.” He turned loose of her and walked around so he stood directly in front of her. Taking her hand in his, he knelt right in a thin layer of ice. “I’m not just asking your forgiveness, Brigit. I’m asking for your hand and your heart. I love you, Lass. Marry me.”

  The door flew open, and Titus dashed out. “Don’t you hear the bells? Come on!”

  “Bells?” Duncan and Brigit repeated the word in unison.

  “Hurry. Dad and Tim are saddling horses.” Titus slapped Duncan on the arm. “The church is on fire!”

  ❧

  Brigit clutched Emily’s hand and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, please watch over our men. Keep them safe. Oh, please keep them safe. A pretty church can be rebuilt, but a fine man—I can’t replace Duncan. I’m asking You not to take him away from me just when You’ve brought our hearts together. Be with Mr. John and Timothy and Titus and all the other men, too. . . .”

  After praying, Brigit sat in the kitchen with Emily, sharing a pot of tea. She spent considerably more time stirring her cup than drinking from it. The grandfather clock chimed the quarter hour, and she remarked on the obvious. “They’re still not back.”

  Emily said nothing.

  “I’m worried,” Brigit confessed. “Duncan is there—he could get hurt. I’m supposing I ought to have faith; but the truth is, faith isn’t a shield against bad things happening.”

  A melancholy smile chased across Emily’s face. “That’s true. Believers still have problems. Sickness and death visit their homes.”

  Brigit took a gulp of tea and stared at the rim of the cup. The tea had grown tepid, and she couldn’t even warm her hands around the cup. “I can’t imagine living with the worry and not having God to lean on. I’m scared, but I know He’s with Duncan right now—and with Mr. John and your sons.”

  “And the Lord is with us, too.” Emily stood and added more hot water to the teapot. “Love puts your heart at risk. There’s always the danger of the one you love hurting you or being hurt. The thing that gets us through is knowing that grace redeems us. Whether it’s God’s grace and forgiveness through Christ or the forgiveness we grant one another, it’s what gives us another chance.”

  “The way Duncan gave me another chance, even when I looked guilty.”

  “And the way you’ve forgiven his doubts.”

  The cup clinked softly as Brigit put it on her saucer. “My father is fond of telling me nothing good comes easy. If he’s right, I’m supposing my marriage to Duncan ought to be the finest ever.”

  Emily cried out delightedly, “He asked? I thought maybe he hadn’t had a chance to propose yet.”

  Brigit started to giggle. “Aye, he asked. But I didn’t have a chance to answer him before he ran off. Should I be wondering if he’ll keep running in the opposite direction now that he’ll have a chance to reconsider his offer?”

  “Not at all. If anything, that’ll bring him back. You’ve given him every reason to come home.”

  They went through another pot of tea. The clock chimed again. And again.

  “Even with the rough start you’ve had, you and Duncan are a good match.” Emily smiled. “You’ve both lived through being rich and poor; you both love the Lord and want to serve Him, and the very height of emotions that sparks between you proves much is possible—if only you give it a chance.”

  “I do want to. Just as we were saying: God set the example; forgiveness grants the gift of redemption.”

  “That’s right.” Emily sweetened her next cup of tea. “John and I stayed up late into the night talking about that very thing. He tracked down Edward today.”

  “Well, praise be!”

  “Duncan sent a wee gift along—he and I decided Edward ought to have the little golden hearts on the red cord that he’d given to our Anna. John told me Edward was speechless.”

  Cook walked into the kitchen. “The gentlemen are back and stabling their mounts. I presume they’ll be hungry.”

  The front door opened. “Brigit!” Duncan yelled.

  “Oh, dear. Now what did I do?” She stood up.

  Emily rose and pushed her toward the entryway. “From the way that brother of mine is bellowing, the whole world is about to find out.”

  Soot-covered and disheveled, Duncan was halfway up the stairs. “Where is she?”

  “I’m down here,” Brigit called.

  He jumped over the banister and strode up to her. “Before I raced off, I asked you a question, Lass. I haven’t heard an answer.”

  “The church burned down,” Timothy advised. “If you always wanted a church wedding, you’d best tell him no. He’s too impatient to wait for them to rebuild.”

  “He ran into the church and carried out the altar.” John chuckled. “That ought to count for something.”

  “They’re pests, but I love them.” Duncan took her by the hands and started to pull her toward the parlor so they could have some privacy. “Putting up with me might be hard, but do you think you can stand them?”

  “I love you, Duncan O’Brien. I’ll gladly wed you and take them in the bargain.”

  “He got her under the mistletoe!”

  “Fitting it is, too,” Emily said. “She’ll be a Christmas bride.”

  Brigit didn’t hear another thing because Duncan took her in his arms and kissed her senseless.

  Epilogue

  “Mr. Duncan asked that his bride be given this.” Goodhew stood in the doorway and handed Emily an envelope. He stood on tiptoe, looked over Emily’s head, and smiled. “And might I say, Miss Brigit, you look radiant.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Everything is ready downstairs. Mrs. Murphy, the cloth you stitched for the altar is exquisite. It covered the burned edge so no one can see the singe marks at all.”

  Brigit’s mother beamed. “’Tis kind of you to be saying so.”

  Nonny and Emily both fussed with one last bow on Brigit’s gown. They’d been stitching it in secret since Duncan brought back the satin from his trip to Lowell.

  Brigit waited until Goodhew escorted Nonny, Emily, and Mum out; then she opened the note.

  Beloved Brigit,

  The day
John married Emily, he gave me a shiny new quarter to signify that I was one-fourth of their family. Through the years, it’s been a reminder to me that I was wanted. I’ve enclosed a brand-new gold Indian Princess dollar. I’m trading up. You are my whole world, my princess, and our future is golden. Let it serve as the first of many reminders that you are loved, my bride.

  —D

  Late that evening Duncan carried his bride across the gangplank and onto the Redeemed. Just yesterday the bride had christened the vessel. Tonight the captain’s cabin would be their honeymoon suite. In two days the Redeemed would go on her maiden voyage, carrying cotton to Ireland. In accordance with the family tradition, the bride would sail with her groom.

  Anna Kathleen had caught the bridal bouquet, and she’d tossed it back into the carriage as Duncan and Brigit departed. Brigit put the bouquet down on the table in the cabin, and it made an odd sound.

  “What was that sound?” Duncan looked around.

  “It’s a wedding wish.”

  “Oh?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her temple.

  Brigit urged, “Look at the ribbon on my flowers.”

  “I’d rather look at you.”

  “’Tis the coin you sent me. I tied it to my flowers for our wedding.”

  “And God tied our hearts together at the altar. I’m going to love you forever, Brigit-mine.”

  About the Author

  Cathy Marie Hake is a southern California native who loves her work as a nurse and Lamaze teacher. She and her husband have a daughter, a son, and two dogs, so life is never dull or quiet. Cathy considers herself a sentimental packrat, collecting antiques and Hummel figurines. She otherwise keeps busy with reading, writing, baking, and being a prayer warrior. “I am easily distracted during prayer, so I devote certain tasks and chores to specific requests or persons so I can keep faithful in my prayer life.” Contact Cathy at her website: www.CathyMarieHake.com

  Dedication

  To my readers, who share with me in the faith, hopes, and dreams of real life and still spend time to turn the pages of my books. God bless you!