Longing for Home: A Proper Romance

by Eden, Sarah M.

  During Katie’s moment of distraction, Tavish had helped each of the girls down and walked with them to the porch where Katie stood. Did he mean to leave her solely responsible for them? Katie slid back into the shadows near the kitchen door.

  Tavish pulled two wrapped bits of butterscotch from his pocket and handed them to each of the girls. “Don’t tell your father I gave you sweets so near to dinner,” he whispered.

  Ivy took the treat eagerly and plopped it in her mouth. Emma, ever the responsible young lady, slipped hers into the pocket of her pinafore. The girls sat on the edge of the porch, Ivy’s jaw working fiercely at her mouth full of sugar.

  “A fine animal you have there, Tavish.”

  “Aye, that she is. As fine a horse as ever I’ve ridden. She’s made me quite the envy of the territory. Not a month goes by that someone doesn’t offer me a fortune for her.” Tavish leaned against the house near where Katie stood.

  “And yet you don’t sell her?”

  Tavish shook his head. “When a man finds such a treasure, he doesn’t part with her for anything.” His was a flirtatious smile if ever Katie had seen one. The protective, empathetic man from the mercantile had stepped away, it seemed, and the Tavish Katie’d come to know was back once more.

  Finbarr came out of the barn, his eyes almost immediately settling on the girls.

  “Your brother there is a fine young man,” Katie said.

  “He’s by far the best of us all.”

  “Now that I believe.”

  Why was it the man always grinned when she attempted to put him firmly in his place?

  They both watched the lad quietly sneak up on Ivy, who hadn’t noticed his approach. He grabbed Ivy around the waist and spun her about. The girl’s giggles filled the yard.

  “Are you going to miss me ’til tomorrow, Ivy?” He held her draped over one shoulder.

  She laughed so hard her words came out in spurts. “Not. One. Bit.”

  “I think you know the punishment for fibbing, dearie.”

  Ivy wiggled in his grasp, still giggling. Katie glanced at Tavish, wondering what he thought of the scene. A grin as wide as the River Foyle split his face.

  “Are you going to say it?” Finbarr asked.

  Ivy shook her head. Finbarr made quite a show and a great bit of noise expressing his wounded feelings against the backdrop of Ivy’s obvious enjoyment of the performance. He set her down on the porch next to her sister and squatted down in front of them.

  He pointed a theatrical finger at Ivy. “Someday, wee’un, you will miss me and then you’ll wish you’d told me so.”

  “Are you going somewhere?” Emma asked.

  The smile he offered her held far less teasing in it than the one he’d bestowed on Ivy. “No. But there’ll come a time when I’m not working here day after day and being big brother to her. Ivy’ll have to admit she misses me then.” He tapped Ivy’s little nose. “Won’t you?”

  Ivy shook her head, and Finbarr laughed. True to form, Emma didn’t join in their revelry.

  “I will miss you,” she said, with a touch of real sorrow in her words.

  He chucked her under the chin. “I’ll be back tomorrow, sweet girl. I’ll see you then.”

  “And even when you aren’t coming here every day, you’ll still live nearby.” Emma phrased the statement almost as a question.

  “And you can come visit me when I’m quite fancy in my own home.” He pulled one of her braids and stood.

  Katie liked the boy. She wished even more in that moment that any one of her older brothers had been nearby during the horrible months before Eimear died. Surely an older brother would have watched out for them both, would have comforted her the many times she’d been scared and alone.

  “Are you walking back with me, Tavish?” Finbarr asked from the edge of the porch.

  “Go on ahead,” Tavish answered. “I’ve something to ask Katie, here, and I don’t mean to do it with you standing there listening.”

  He meant to ask her something? She hated that her heart pounded at the thought.

  Finbarr waved to the girls before beginning his walk home.

  “You’ve something to ask me?”

  “I’ve come upon a rumor that you’ve decided Hope Springs is a disappointment,” he said.

  “A rumor? I told you that my own self just this morning.”

  “Ah.” His look of dawning realization was a touch overdone. “That just might be where I heard it.”

  “What does all this have to do with whatever it is you mean to ask me?”

  “I am meaning to ask if your afternoon is free Friday.”

  That sounded almost as if he was asking her to spend an afternoon with him. “Free for what?”

  He chuckled at that. “Ever the wary one, aren’t you?”

  Katie didn’t care to be laughed at. Tavish and his thick black hair and heart-meltingly blue eyes could take his mocking and go.

  She reached for the kitchen door, intent on leaving him out on the porch to tease his own self. His hand covered hers on the doorknob. A tingle immediately started where his fingers touched hers. She pulled back. Her mind knew full well to be careful where a handsome, teasing rogue was concerned, but the rest of her was far too aware of him.

  “If I promise not to tease you too mercilessly, would you go for a bit of a drive with me on Friday?” he asked. “Not even as a social engagement, mind you. I thought you might enjoy seeing a bit of Hope Springs.”

  “You wish to take me on a tour?” Katie didn’t mean to become attached to the place, but finding a few reasons to like the town would be nice.

  “A small tour,” Tavish said. “And maybe a wee bit of gazing into each other’s eyes and whispering sweet nothings.”

  She skewered him with a look of scolding rebuke, one he couldn’t possibly mistake for encouragement. “Absolutely not.”

  He didn’t look the least surprised. Indeed, he looked even more amused than before.

  “Perhaps we’ll just keep to the tour for now,” he said. “What say you?”

  She hesitated. A day off from her work would be nice. Perhaps she’d even learn enough of the town to decide what she ought to do next. ’Twas Tavish’s company that made her waver. She enjoyed him, most of the time. But he also made her very nervous. And she couldn’t be certain he didn’t mean to tease and gaze and whisper just as he said.

  “Come now, Sweet Katie. You might even enjoy yourself.”

  “That’s doubtful,” she muttered. “Now what about that possibly made you laugh? I meant it, you know.”

  He just shook his head. “You’re a tough one, Katie Macauley. But I mean to talk you round to enduring me at the least. Take a ride with me. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, my word of honor.”

  An afternoon away from her endless list of chores would be nice. But only if Tavish behaved himself. “A perfect gentleman?”

  The devilishly handsome grin he produced was not terribly reassuring, yet there was sincerity in his eyes. “You’ll hardly recognize me I’ll be so well behaved.”

  Oddly enough, Katie believed him. “I suppose I could spare an hour or two.”

  She heard his almost silent laugh. “I’ll come by Friday about noon, if that’ll do for you.”

  Katie nodded. A simple drive was all it would be. A chance to see the town and nothing else. She stepped inside the house without pausing even to watch him walk away. He’d likely take that as a sign she was hiding how much she fancied him. She didn’t. Not at all.

  She fancied him so little, in fact, that she continually reminded herself she didn’t care for him while she prepared the family’s evening meal. The silent conversation continued even as she set the table. She could admit to being curious about the man but nothing more. And it was only curiosity that made her heart hammer and her hands shake a wee bit when she thought of spending an afternoon with him. Curiosity and nothing else made her wonder just what it would be like to have Tavish O’Connor gaze into her eyes as he�
�d teasingly threatened.

  You see how it is with me, Eimear? I tell myself no heart flutters and no attachments, and still my mind runs away thinking of the blue-eyed devil. Except Tavish didn’t truly seem like a devil. A tease and a flirt, yes, but not a bad man underneath it all.

  Besides, an afternoon seeing Hope Springs wouldn’t turn her thoughts to love or tender attachments, even if Tavish did flirt mercilessly. Katie knew it to be the truth: she simply needed a chance to lodge that fact more firmly in her mind.

  Perhaps if she got the Archers started on their meal, she could pull down the wash while they ate. That would free up her evening enough that she might sneak away with her fiddle. She’d not played since coming to Hope Springs. She needed the music, needed the calm it brought her.

  Katie stood near the door connecting the dining room to the kitchen as the family sat down to their meal. “Is there anything you’re wanting that’s not out?”

  “No. Everything looks fine.” Mr. Archer wasn’t one for flowery words of praise, though he had once complimented her on the coffee she made.

  “Very good. I’ll just be slipping out to take the laundry off the line.” She turned and pushed on the swinging door.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  At the moment Katie would gladly skip a meal to get a moment to herself. “Aye, after I’ve brought in the wash and a couple other things.”

  He shook his head. “Sit down and eat, Katie.”

  “In here?” She’d never in all her life eaten with the families she served.

  “Would that be so awful?” Mr. Archer seemed surprised at her insistence.

  “Not awful, simply . . . odd.”

  “I think you would adjust.” He motioned to an empty seat on the other side of Ivy. “Join us.”

  “Truly, I’ll have a bite later in the kitchen when I’ve a moment.”

  The man looked entirely unmoved. “Sit. And eat.”

  Several responses jumped to her lips. But seeing that the girls were taking in the exchange with wide eyes and unflagging attention, Katie settled on holding her chin a touch high and leaving without further comment. Let the man make of that what he would. She might be a servant, dependent on a wage, but she was a woman grown with the right to her dignity. Being ordered about like a child was something she’d not endure.

  Frustration pricked at her as she crossed her spotless kitchen. Absolutely spotless. Not that Joseph Archer had noticed the miraculous progress she’d made in only a week. The parlor and entry hall weren’t perfect, but they were a far sight better than they had been. How could he complain about her eating schedule and not even notice the work she’d done?

  And why did she care that he hadn’t noticed or thanked her or seemed properly impressed? She’d never longed for acknowledgment from any of her other employers.

  Katie pulled open the back door only to have it pushed closed once more. For a moment she couldn’t account for such an odd thing. Her mind, however, quickly pieced the mystery together. Mr. Archer stood behind her, his arm reaching out past her shoulder, hand flat against the door. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she’d not even heard him catch up to her.

  Katie kept her back to him and folded her arms in front of her. “Have you come to order me about some more?”

  “Order you about?” Though Katie knew Mr. Archer had to be standing almost touching her to have reached the door from behind her, the nearness of his voice still startled her. “If I’ve learned anything about you over the last week, it’s that you do not respond well to being told what to do.”

  “People’ve been doing just that since I was eight years old, as if being poor and forced to work for my keep somehow made me lack-witted. I’m not dull nor foolish nor incompetent nor—”

  She swung around to face him, determined to make her point, but her words faltered. Turning about put her very nearly nose to chest with Mr. Archer. She hadn’t expected that. Didn’t care for it, in fact. Katie put as much space between them as she could, only to find her back pressed to the door behind her.

  He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. “I never said you were any of those things. I only wanted you to eat.”

  “And I mean to eat.” She held herself with utmost dignity. “Just as soon as it suits my plans.”

  He lifted his exasperated gaze to the ceiling. “You are so stubborn.”

  “Aye, that I am. Stubborn enough not to die of starvation, as I’ve proven once already in my lifetime.” Guilt twisted in her to hear those words fall from her mouth. She’d survived The Famine but not out of stubbornness. She’d lived only because her sister had not.

  Mr. Archer crossed his arms in a perfect imitation of her own stance. Katie couldn’t say if the change made her want to smile or simply open the door and run. “Miss Macauley—”

  She cringed. May-kuh-lee. Who in heaven’s name pronounced it that way?

  The tiniest glimmer of a smile touched his face. “You’ll have to teach me how to say your surname correctly.” He even sounded a little bit amused.

  “I’m no miracle worker, Joseph Archer.”

  That glimmer grew, though not by much. He had brown eyes. She’d not noticed that. They’d only ever looked dark before. Until that moment, standing so close to him, she’d only thought of his appearance in the simplest terms. Dark eyes. Lighter hair. Of a common height for a man. He was beginning to seem like a real person, more than merely the man she worked for.

  “I suppose something catastrophic will happen to the laundry if it is left on the line while you eat?” he pressed

  Katie had every intention of eating something quickly after she’d seen to some chores, but she hadn’t time for a full sit-down meal, not if she were to grab a minute alone with her music. “It will set me behind schedule. I have something I need to do this evening, but I mean to finish my work first.”

  He didn’t reply, neither did he move away. He stood, studying her. Katie couldn’t say if he meant to yield or was simply taking a moment to formulate more arguments.

  “Please, Mr. Archer.”

  “This is something important to you?” He sounded as though he already realized the answer to his question.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His gaze grew more pointed at her slip.

  “Mr. Archer,” she corrected.

  He let it go without further objections. “But you will eat?”

  “Yes.”

  While he didn’t actually say anything, she saw in his face the moment he decided to leave her to her task. She offered a small nod of gratitude. He moved silently back into the dining room.

  Though she knew herself free to go about her work, she remained with her back pressed to the door, hand on the knob beside her. She hadn’t expected that of Mr. Archer. No employer of hers had ever cared if she ate or slept or rested. Yet, the same man who rarely had a word for her during the day, who grumbled a great deal more than any person ought, seemed to concern himself with her welfare.

  The contradiction stayed with her as she pulled down and folded the laundry. She thought about it as she washed the Archers’ dishes and scrubbed out the sink. Her mind had not yet moved on even as she ate her own hurried meal. The moment she took the handle of her father’s fiddle case in her hands, however, those worries quieted, slipping back to the furthest reaches of her thoughts.

  Katie stepped out the back door, fiddle firmly in her grasp. Under her other arm she held a blanket, one old and worn that would not mind an evening spent in the outdoors. The night had grown dim and a touch chill. She set her eyes on the clump of trees she’d decided upon earlier.

  The wind blew across her path, pulling her skirts hard against her legs. She clutched the blanket and fiddle to her and pushed on. The evening was far from silent, though what noises she heard were too distant and too garbled for identifying. How very unlike the constant roar of the city.

  Katie stepped beneath the canopy of branches. The air turned cooler. The trees grew near the bank
of the river that wound its way around Hope Springs and past Mr. Archer’s fields. A person would be hard pressed to cross the river without the help of a bridge.

  She spread her blanket beneath the trees and sat overlooking the river. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, the sky filling with the blazing colors of sunset. ’Twas a perfect setting for a quiet evening of music.

  She opened the fiddle case, her eyes falling on the familiar instrument. She tightened the hairs of her bow, then took up the fiddle. She closed her eyes and pulled the bow across a string.

  “Too low,” she whispered.

  One string at a time, Katie tuned the fiddle just as her father had taught her—she kept her eyes closed and listened, shutting out every other sound. She always found the act of tuning deeply satisfying. Here was one trouble she knew how to fix. Few other problems could be seen to so quickly and disposed of so easily.

  Katie sat with her fiddle tucked under her chin, bow in hand. How she missed her father. She’d not heard a single word from him since the day he left her in Derry. Mother wrote now and again, her words written out by their priest. Katie’d had those words read to her, even dictated letters in return. But Father never sent so much as a second-hand greeting.

  Someday she would give him back his land and home. She would show him the headstone she meant to purchase for Eimear’s grave. He’d see it all, and he would love her again.

  “And I’ll do it all, Eimear. I’ll do it all even if takes my entire life long.”

  She needed a quick-paced tune, something to lift her heart. With the first measures of “Reel Du Goglu,” her uncertainty gave way.

  Here was home.

  She played through “After the Sun Goes Down,” “Paddy McFadden,” and many other tunes she’d never learned the proper names of. Jigs ran into reels, which gave way to airs and waltzes. She played until every joint in her left hand ached and the tips of her fingers pained her. Far too much time had passed since she’d last spent more than a few short minutes playing. Her fingers weren’t used to it any longer.

  The music took her back across time, before Baltimore, before Belfast, even before Derry. In her mind Katie could perfectly see the hearth in her childhood home and her family gathered around. William, her oldest brother, had left before Katie had any memories of him. But she could picture Danny and Brennan sitting there during the short time before they’d followed their brother to Manchester and the promise of work and wages and food to eat. Their faces grew more vague with every passing year, but she remembered their being there. Her clearest memories were of only Mother and Father and Eimear sitting with her around the fire.