Master James stood, quickly giving himself a dusting swipe, and then held out his hand to her.
She took it and tried to stand. “Oh!”
“What seems to be the matter?” His eyes grew large and his eyebrows looked about to jump to his crown.
“Tis me ankle. I think it’s wrenched.”
“Hold on to me.” He scooped her up. “I’ll get you inside where my mother and sisters can help you.”
Surprised at the ease that placed her in his arms, Shannon felt as if she weighed as little as Samuel. She rested her head near his shoulder and closed her eyes. The scent of his clothes was pleasant. And the feel of his shaven cheek made her head start to spin, reviving thoughts she had long believed silenced.
No longer comfortable, heat rose in her cheeks. “Put me down.”
He ignored her.
“Put me down!”
He peered at her as if she had transformed into someone entirely different.
She nodded to him, calmly adding “please.”
“As you will.” He let her down to a standing position.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she hopped, protecting her injured foot, to the nearest piece of furniture. The mistress entered the room just as she sat.
“Mother, the Widow has wrenched her ankle.” Master James pointed out the obvious.
Shannon waved. “Tis nothin’ really.”
“It is somethin’, Mother. She cannot put weight on it.”
“All right, James.” The mistress patted his arm and knelt in front of Shannon. “Allow me to see.”
Shannon started to pull back, but the mistress held firm. Always before, Mistress Crockett respectfully called Shannon “Widow O’Connor.” But now, as she reached out to offer assistance, that changed.
“Shannon, please allow me to help you. I will make sure nothing is broken and assist you with wrapping it. James can fetch some water from the well, and then you can soak it to keep down the swelling.”
Becoming more uncomfortable by the second, Shannon folded her hands in her lap to keep them still. “Samuel is upstairs. I need to be able to tend to Wee Joseph and my son.”
“That is not a problem. We will get you upstairs. Then I will tend your ankle. James, it appears the Widow needs your assistance. Please carry her upstairs while I fetch bandages.” The mistress stood and swept out of the room—too quickly to hear Shannon’s protest or see the look of glee on James’s face.
“Being the obedient son that I am, I best be starting up the stairs with you.”
“Oh, no, ye don’t.”
“Aye, but ye h’aird me sainted mither.” Master James began to pour on the blarney, grinning all the more as he picked her up in his arms. “I’m to get ye up the stairs, m’lady. Ye might be of a mind to hold on else we could be havin’ another catastrophe.”
Shannon squeaked at the thought of falling down the steps with him. She held tight, even holding her breath and keeping her eyes closed the whole way. At the top she exhaled and heard him chuckle. A part of her wanted to thump him on his chest—his strong, broad chest—but propriety won out. When they reached the nursery door, he handily opened it, and maneuvered her into the room.
Master Joseph glanced up from the rocker. Wee Joseph slept in his arms. He motioned them to be quiet. But Samuel sensed his mother’s presence and awoke from his nap.
“Mama.”
“I’m here, darlin’ boy.”
Master James placed her on the side of the bed where Samuel lay. The toddler snuggled into his mother’s lap, every once in a while peeking out at Master James with a shy smile. The big man began to play peek-a-boo. Samuel giggled.
What is going on? Did Samuel know Master James? He seemed to have a way with children. Samuel, normally a reticent child, held back from new people. Had he worked some kind of magic on her son? The boy enjoyed himself, even to the point of reaching out to the man. And wonder of wonders, Master James plucked him up out of her arms.
“Don’t be looking at me like I’ve cast a spell on the boy.” He responded as if he read her mind. “He’s wise enough to recognize a friend when he sees him.”
“Oh, he is, is he? Maybe I should be tellin’ of some of his other antics. Ye wouldn’t be callin’ him all that wise.”
“And this from his own mother.”
“Aye, but tis a mother’s duty to know her child. I know he’s an innocent, trustin’ one, an’ bright for his age too. But, goin’ to ye, like that, is not what I’d call wise.”
“So Widow O’Connor, what would ye be calling it?”
Just then the mistress arrived in the room with the bandages followed by the daughter, Sarah Beth, who carried a bucket.
“Let me get your ankle wrapped, and then we can have you soak it in the bucket. I have more rags so we can change the wrap in a while to a dry one. Then you will need to prop your leg to keep down the swelling.” Louise knelt. “How did this happen? Did you fall off the steps?”
Shannon glanced at James and shook her head. The mistress watched their expressions. “Well, do you want to tell me, son?”
“Not really.” He laughed, trying to make it more of a cough behind his hand.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t know?”
“Oh, no. Tis not like that…” Shannon didn’t need the mistress to think she had done something improper.
“No, Mother, the Widow is protecting me.” He chuckled. “I knocked her off the back steps.”
“James, you what? Are you sure you are all right, Shannon? How did you…?”
“I was looking out the window and saw that Sarah—” He paused. A strange look cross his face before he continued, “Ah, Sarah left the house. She looked a mite angry and I thought I’d try to catch her, only…”
“You didn’t look and …” The mistress cocked an eyebrow.
“An’ I was at the door.” Shannon added.
“We had a sudden meeting of the minds, you might say.” Master James gave his trademark grin.
“Well, I won’t say ‘you know better’ although I know you do.” Though the mistress scolded, laughter showed plain as day in her eyes.
Master Joseph laid Wee Joseph in his cradle and joined the group, putting an arm around his little sister. “Did I hear ye say Sarah left?”
“Aye, and I’m thinking she was heading for your cottage. Since Mother has things under control here, I can run down and see what the problem is.”
“No need. I already know. I’d better go.”
Shannon watched this exchange. There was more to this than met the eye. Well, it was none of her business.
“I want to speak with her. I’ll go.” Master James’s voice rose. When everyone turned and stared, his face reddened.
“Fine, you can go, with my blessing. Just don’t wake the baby.”
“Fine, then, I’ll go.”
“Then, be gone and the rest of you can be quiet before you wake my grandson.” The mistress put a finger to her lips.
James nodded to the group in general and left.
Shannon felt like he took a piece of her with him.
* * *
Occasionally when James came by the cottage, Sarah’s lilting soprano could be heard on the breeze. However, today all was silent, and he nearly turned to retrace his steps. But some niggling thought persisted, telling him she really was inside. He quietly pushed open the door and entered. He found her, asleep in the rocker.
She lay turned, her right cheek resting against the back of the chair. Her legs were drawn up into the seat. Sunlight streamed in through the west window, making her auburn curls glow as if on fire. In spite of the tear streaks lining her cheeks, a glow of peace radiated from her face.
James feared he might destroy something sacred should he wake her.
He wasn’t conscious of how long he stood watching her sleep, whether two minutes or two hours. There was a naturalness, a belonging that James couldn’t explain. It awakened in him a longing to do something, though he wasn�
�t sure what. Unable to bring himself to arouse her from whatever had brought about such holy beauty, he quietly retrieved a quilt off the bed. As tenderly as he knew how, James draped it across Sarah before leaving, feeling more confused than ever.
* * *
Sarah awoke with a start. The crimson sun dipped behind the glowing hilltops.
She was at Joseph’s cottage.
With a sense of urgency, she hopped up and nearly tripped over a blanket laid about her. Where did that come from?
Her father would suffer no compromise about her being home each evening. She cast one last look about the place. Joseph had not been home to eat.
But who put the blanket about her? The realization left her with a mixture of embarrassment, disappointment and confusion.
Why hadn’t he come home? Or had he and seen her asleep? Would he think she was not doing a good enough job? Did he add the blanket?
It was the same old trap.
“Stop, foolish woman,” she addressed the plaguing questions. “The cover was a gift of the Father. Thank ye, Father. And Joseph probably decided to eat with his family. Thank ye, Father, for our families. I’ll not be looking for troubles of my own making.” She folded the blanket, her decision made. Taking one last look about, she headed for her home, feeling more thankful than she had in a long time for the loving family that awaited her there.
Chapter Nine
Louise smiled welcome to the men as they arrived, directing them to her husband’s study. Four months had passed since the last official meeting. Louise knew Antoine was eager to discuss the progress of their plan.
Albert arrived first, pulling up seconds before Thomas Stewart. Louise, returning from showing the men to the study, heard the next knock, but found her eldest, Lucy, already at the door, opening it to Cameron McHugh, the big man with the gentle heart.
“Aye, wee one, an’ how is the bonniest lass in the Laggan?”
Lucy blushed. “I believe you would have said that to whoever of my sisters answered the door, Master McHugh.”
“Aye, but you, me lass, are the one to open it. That makes you the bonniest.” He winked.
Louise laughed and escorted him to the study. This time, she arrived as Lucy greeted both Michael O’Toole and Paddy Flanagan, who had come together.
“Monsieur O’Toole, Monsieur Flanagan, welcome.”
“Top o’ the mornin’ to ye, Mistress Crockett, an’ to ye, Miss Lucy.” Monsieur O’Toole removed his cap and elbowed his friend to do the same. Monsieur Flanagan tucked his cap under his arm, nodded, and, with an uncomfortable-looking half smile, kept his eyes lowered. The men followed Louise to the study.
* * *
Antoine clapped the men on the shoulder and shook their hands. They joined the others, and after exchanges were made, they sat at the table where only months earlier they had made their solemn agreement. It was hard to miss how they all now turned to him, awaiting the next move.
“Gentlemen.” Antoine stood before the group. “I thought we could share some successes, needs, and perhaps encourage one another today.”
“Aye.” Paddy uncomfortably glanced about. “I see an awful lot of need, but I’ve not seen much success. I don’t know if there is enough encouragement to make me think this’ll work. Mind ye, I’m not givin’ up, but I’m not seeing the changes I’d hoped for after last time.”
“If nothin’ else, I’d say tis worse.” Michael O’Toole’s voice sounded raspier today.
“In what way?” Albert asked.
“We’ve not made a secret about comin’ here, and now people I’ve called friends me whole life are startin’ to treat me like I’m diseased.”
“We knew this wouldn’t be easy. I, for one, think it will get even worse before it gets better. But I see no other course before me.” Thomas spoke more to himself than the group.
“What could be worse than me life-long neighbors behavin’ as if I’ve the plague?” Paddy’s fist came down on the table with a loud smack. The room stilled.
Thomas broke the silence. “The Combers are back.” In his position as Laird, he was often privy to information.
“I thought rounding them up was the one thing the English got right.” Cameron leaned in at the table.
“Are ye sure?” Michael O’Toole’s gaze jumped from person to person.
“Aye, I am sure. They were overheard at a shebeen. Nothing one might legally use, but enough to know they’re back. If it were found out they’d been overheard, someone might not wake on the morrow.”
“What’s this to do with us?” Paddy Flanagan obviously already knew the answer. Antoine wondered if he were planning to separate himself from the rest.
The silence deafened. But rather than say more, Antoine said, “Let’s pray.”
* * *
“Widow O’Connor, I’m thinking we should have an outing today.” Sarah had been cooing over the wiggling form of Wee Joseph when the idea popped in her head. He giggled at the faces she made at him.
“You and Wee Joseph will have a wonderful time, I’m sure.” Shannon wiped a damp cloth over Samuel’s dirty face without meeting Sarah’s eyes.
“Aye we will, won’t we little one. Aye, we will.” Her head nodded over his, while small fists grabbed at her tresses. “And so will Samuel and so will Widow O’Connor, won’t they?” She tickled his tummy.
“Oh, but me and Samuel, we canna be goin’.”
“And why not?” Sarah continued to smile and coo over Wee Joseph as she spoke with the widow.
“But… I’m workin’ here.” A frown creased her brow.
“But your duties are with Wee Joseph, and he’ll be on the picnic so, there you are.” Sarah blew a loud buzz on the baby’s stomach before looking up to add, “You must come. And we want you to. Please?”
Sarah knew the widow had taken few trips away from the house since the excursion resulting in her twisted ankle. Physically, she was good as new. However, she avoided James.
“But what about the mistress? How will she be takin’ to me goin’ gallivantin’ ’round with the babe?”
“Tanté Louise will be fine about us taking an outing. The boys need to be outside in the fresh air, and we need the relaxation. Perhaps we might ask if she’d like to join us.”
“Ye do the askin’ then. I’ll make the babes ready.”
Sarah caught a touch of a smile lifting the corners of the young woman’s lips just before she headed for the stairs. Tanté was in the parlor with her needlework. “Tanté Louise, what would you say to a picnic today? The weather is too lovely to stay cooped in the house.”
Tanté put down her hoop and patted the seat beside her. “I’d say, lovely idea. And I’m sure it is yours. I’m guessing you and the widow want to take the babies. I believe that should be fine as long as you stay on our property. Don’t stray far from the house.”
“But you are coming as well. Please, come with us.”
“No, I cannot today. Antoine has company in the study. I need to stay close. But you girls go and take the babies with you. They will enjoy getting out of the house. Assure Widow O’Connor you have my blessing.” Louise added a wink as she patted Sarah’s hand.
“Did I hear someone mention a picnic?”
Sarah turned to see James, with Joseph Louis standing close behind. Joseph’s handsome features were still too distracting. Even now his sapphire eyes twinkled.
“Sarah and the Widow O’Connor are taking the boys for a picnic. Since I am unable to attend, why don’t the two of you go in my stead? It would make feeding you men so much easier.” Tanté smiled as she gave James’s cheek a pat and a pinch.
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. Say no. Say no.
“Why, we’d love to go, wouldn’t we, Joseph?”
Joseph eyed the group, the first small smile Sarah had seen in a long time curving his lips.
“If that is all right with you. And the Widow, of course. It is all right, isn’t it, Sarah?” James taunted with his most charming smile
.
“Of course it is.” Tanté didn’t give her the time to protest. Instead she gently squeezed Sarah’s shoulder. “And I will feel better knowing you have two strong men with you.”
“Right, we’re strong and here to protect you.” James flexed his right arm, then his left.
“James, who will be protecting us from you?” Sarah couldn’t resist, the retort flying from her brain through her mouth before common sense could quell it.
“Mother, will you allow her speak so of your darlin’ boys? Joseph, I believe our reputation has been sullied.”
“No, I believe your reputation has been sullied. I’m hungry. What are we having for lunch?”
With a laugh, Tanté led the trio to the larder where she helped them put together the picnic necessities.
Even though she laughed at the banter, Sarah’s heart fluttered at the thought of being so close to Joseph. Could she bear it? The idea terrified and tantalized her all at the same time.
* * *
Joseph followed as Sarah led the little group to a quiet field dotted with a few remaining columbine and delicate yellow flag irises scattered here and there. He lugged the picnic supplies, she carried Wee Joseph, and James bore young Samuel on his broad shoulders. Shannon, hauling a large patch quilt, tramped close by, seeming to not want Samuel too far from her. The ever-present Bridget brought up the rear, her arms full of last-minute items.
“This is the place.” Sarah stopped.
Joseph set down the basket.
“Here, you take him, and I’ll set the meal.” She handed the baby to him.
Shannon brought over the large quilt and began spreading it out. Bridget set down her supplies to help.
Joseph watched over Wee Joseph’s head as Sarah, organized and in charge, moved the basket to the quilt and helped Shannon open the packages of food and supplies. He felt hungrier just watching as she lay out garden-fresh carrots, cooled steamed potatoes, and a dozen of Josephine’s wonderful lamb pies. There was goat cheese, a delicious brown bread, and salted butter, plus several skins, some with wine and others with water. As delicious as the food appeared, the one setting it all out caught his gaze. Sarah appeared more beautiful now than he could ever remember. Her face glowed when she was excited. Her eyes flashed when she became angry. But at ordinary times like this, when she didn’t know she was being watched, she was most beautiful.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 35