Hope Springs (32 page)

Mrs. Claire spoke up. “Look who’s come knocking on our door, girls.”

They all looked in his direction.

“Joseph,” Ian greeted. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you. How are you feeling?”

Ian nodded firmly. “Better every day.”

Joseph watched for Katie’s usual smile of welcome and for the girls to run straight to him as they always did. He needed both in that moment. The girls huddled close to Katie, who watched him sidelong and a bit uncertainly.

“Don’t either of you have a hug for your papa?” He wasn’t above begging.

Ivy pulled away first and rushed to him. He dropped to his knees and pulled her close.

“We’ve been dancing all day, Pompah. It’s been ever so much fun.”

Joseph caught Emma’s eye. The hesitation there broke his heart. Though he had tried to explain to her why he had needed to speak sharply to their neighbors at the church, he still saw lingering hints of uncertainty in his little girl. He wished he knew how to make things right between them again.

“I’ve missed you, Emma.” He had, indeed, more than simply being physically separated from her during the day.

A smile tugged at her mouth. She crossed to him, as well, and stepped into his embrace.

“Have you enjoyed spending your day with Katie?” he asked.

“We always love being with Katie,” she answered without hesitation. “She said maybe someday Marianne could come dance with us too. That would be a fine thing.”

Despite the small changes Joseph had seen in Jeremiah Johnson, he didn’t for a moment believe he would allow his daughter to spend an afternoon down the Irish Road. But Emma and Marianne were such close friends, the only friend Emma really had, and he couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Perhaps someday we can have Marianne come to our house and Katie can join us there. Then you and your friend can dance all you want.”

Emma’s smile grew more natural. Joseph kissed her cheek, then Ivy’s.

“We need to be on our way,” Biddy said. She crossed to where Katie stood in the middle of the room, and embraced her. “Thank you again for the supper and for your music. Heavens, Katie, what your music does for us.”

“It is a balm, isn’t it?” Katie answered. “I grow more grateful for the music every day.”

Ian stepped past his wife. Joseph kept his girls at his side, but stood as Ian approached. He shook the hand Ian offered and gave him a firm slap on the shoulder.

“It
is
good to see you doing well, Ian.”

“’Tis good to be doing well,” Ian said. “And”—he glanced quickly at his wife, then back again to Joseph, and lowered his voice—“I thank you for the hay you sent over.”

“I only wish I could do more,” Joseph said.

He knew Ian was tiptoeing close to financial disaster. They hadn’t been able to make more than a pittance toward their land payment. He’d lost crops. And he’d soon have another mouth to feed. Joseph did what he could, but the man’s pride had been pricked a lot lately. And anything Joseph could do had to be done as much in secret as possible. Only his insistence that he wouldn’t show the town any mercy had kept things relatively peaceful.

“We’re ready to be off, dearest,” Biddy said from the doorway.

The O’Connors stepped outside. Emma and Ivy moved to the door and waved.

“Could I have a moment of your time, Katie?” Joseph asked.

She looked a little surprised, but nodded and motioned him toward the hallway. He followed her into her small bedroom.

He spoke while she put her violin away. “Mrs. Smith told me something of what transpired this afternoon, though I confess her explanation confused me a great deal. She said something about a flour jar and Ivy hiding in the loft.”

“Aye.” Katie loosened the hairs on her bow, but didn’t look up at him.

“Did something else happen? I haven’t been able to think of a reason why you’d find it necessary to take them home with you over something so small.”

Katie closed the violin case. “Mrs. Smith has a sternness to her manner that makes the girls uncomfortable—not quite frightened, but not at all contented, either.” She kept her hands on the case, her body turned so she very nearly had her back to him. “They were both clearly unhappy, Joseph. Miserable, almost.”

Joseph’s heart stilled. Were his girls truly so miserable?

“I have managed to talk this over with them in bits and pieces throughout the day,” Katie went on, “and I am convinced Mrs. Smith doesn’t hit them or even shout at them. She simply doesn’t love them the way they need. She’s not as kind as she ought to be.”

Katie turned to look at him, a plea in her eyes. “So, yes, I took the girls from home today and kept them here with me. I am sorry I didn’t seek your permission first, but I couldn’t bear to see Ivy’s tears even a moment longer, nor Emma’s worries. Those girls are too dear to me to ever allow them to feel that way if I can do something to relieve their unhappiness.”

Her sharp defense of his girls warmed his heart. When was the last time someone had loved them anywhere near as much as he did? They needed this. They needed her.
He
needed her.

“I didn’t realize Mrs. Smith was mistreating them.”

Katie shook her head. “I don’t know that she is being
un
kind to them. They simply don’t like her or her manner.”

Joseph paced away, thinking. “Mrs. Smith’s references were impeccable. She has worked with children before. She came highly recommended.” He stopped at her tiny, curtainless window. Uncertainty warred with anger in his mind. The girls would have told him if they were so unhappy with Mrs. Smith. His girls always turned to him when they were in need.

“Perhaps her previous charges weren’t so easily wounded,” Katie suggested.

Wounded.
The idea pierced him. He rested his forehead against the window frame. Mrs. Smith hadn’t ever given any indication that she was the kind to ignore a child’s needs. And yet, he valued Katie’s opinion and trusted her word too much to discount what she’d said. “I have failed my girls, haven’t I?”

He heard the sound of her skirts swishing as she walked. She stopped directly beside him and laid her hand on his arm. “I think you’re being far too hard on yourself, Joseph. They are loved and they know that they are loved, and that makes all the difference in the world.”

The love that Katie had for Emma and Ivy was undeniable. She’d been so unsure of herself, so uncomfortable with the girls at first, but she’d worked at coming to know them. She’d dedicated herself to making them happy. She’d learned to love them.

“Thank you,” he said.

“’Tis a pleasure to have them here with me. They really were no trouble at all.”

He reached out for her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He, apparently, had a knack for torturing himself—he was all but embracing her, and his pounding heart was well aware of it. “I wasn’t thanking you simply for watching them today, Katie. I am thanking you for caring about them and for loving them.”

She smiled fondly. “They’re easy to love, Joseph.”

He intended to say something that would express how easy
she
was to love, but the words disappeared. Something overtook his judgment. He slipped his arm more fully around her waist and pulled her up to him.

He kissed her. Months of longing for this woman grabbed hold of him. He whispered her name against her lips, a deep, desperate need pounding in his heart. If she’d pushed, fought him at all, he would have let go. Instead, she seemed to melt against him. Her small hand clutched the front of his shirt. Her mouth answered his. She kissed him in return.

The air filled with the scent of her. His Katie, the first woman in years to touch his heart in any way. His Katie. Here was the moment he’d dreamed of and thought about for weeks but had doubted would ever happen.

Then he felt her stiffen, as if suddenly realizing who she was kissing, who she was leaning on and clinging to.

She pulled back. The look of surprise and anxiety on her face struck him like a fist. Her face went pale.

“Katie. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

She didn’t wait for his explanation. She spun about and rushed from the room.

That was badly done.
He’d thought of kissing her many times, but none of his imaginings had ended this way.

He pushed his hair back from his face, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. It didn’t help. He still felt ready to explode.

You have to go say something. You cannot leave it like this.

He likely would be unwelcome, but he owed her the courtesy of a good-bye and, if she would allow it, an apology. Joseph was no coward to hide from a difficult thing that needed doing.

He moved with purpose down the hall. Mrs. Claire and the girls looked at him wide-eyed.

“Katie?” he asked Mrs. Claire.

“She flew by and straight out the back door.”

Joseph followed that path and stepped outside. Katie stood not ten paces off, her back to the house, arms pulled tight around herself. She looked so alone, so small against the vast fields sprawled out beyond her. The wind pulled mercilessly at her hair, yanking strands of it loose and swirling it about her head. Even in his jacket, Joseph was cold. Were the jacket buttoned up, he’d likely still feel the bite of the wind.

He could think of no words that would help the situation. An apology for kissing her died unspoken. He was sorry she was upset, but he couldn’t regret the kiss. Given some encouragement on her part, he’d have kissed her again on the spot.

Joseph walked up behind her, keeping his steps slow so she would have ample time to move away or tell him to leave her be if she wished. He knew she could hear his approach.

She didn’t so much as glance back at him.

He slipped his jacket off when he reached her and set it on her shoulders. Katie let it sit there, not shrugging it off or tossing it at his head. After an awkward and silent moment, she pulled it more firmly around herself, holding it in place with a single hand.

He couldn’t bring himself to mention their kiss. “I was wrong about Mrs. Smith being a good match for our family,” he said. “But even if I found a replacement before winter comes and makes trips to the telegraph office impossible, no one could be here before spring.”

Katie hadn’t walked away but neither had she acknowledged him.

He pressed on—he couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Can the girls come here during the day? Mrs. Smith won’t speak sharply to them while I am there, but I have work that has to be done in the fields during the day. It wouldn’t be permanent—I’m sure you have enough to keep you busy without them here as well. But I need to know they’re happy, and there’s no one in the world I trust more than you.”

She kept her back to him. The air around him filled with the flowery scent he would forever associate with her. Joseph stuffed his hands in his pockets—the urge to reach out for her was too great.

Her silence wasn’t at all encouraging. The tiny ember of hope he felt was growing dimmer by the moment.

“Katie?”

“The girls can come here,” she said quietly. “For as long as you need them to.”

“Thank you.” He spoke as low as she did. There seemed nothing more to say. She didn’t look at him, didn’t lean even the tiniest bit in his direction. Clearly she wanted him to go. “I’ll bring Ivy by in the morning after Emma is at school.”

She silently nodded.

Joseph left her there. He would allow her and Mrs. Claire to have their home to themselves.

When he reentered the house, he saw the girls sitting with Mrs. Claire, listening to her tell a story. “We should be getting home,” he said.

Neither looked the least bit happy at the prospect. He would need to have a good, long talk with them both as they walked, reassure them they would be spending their days with Katie.

He nodded the girls toward the door. He paused long enough to bid Mrs. Claire a good night.

“Might I give you a piece of advice, Joseph Archer?” the old woman asked.

“Of course.”

“Kiss her again.”

“Kiss her—? How did you know I—?”

“It wasn’t yesterday I was born, Joseph.” Mrs. Claire pierced him with a look. “Kiss her again sometime, but do the thing properly the next time.”

While the idea was appealing, Joseph wasn’t entirely convinced. A woman who flees in tears after a man kisses her generally isn’t eager to be kissed by him again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Katie had had a long week. The girls were coming to her house each day: just Ivy while Emma was at school, and then both girls for the rest of the day until their father was done with his work. She and Joseph had somehow made the arrangements without looking each other in the eye, without hardly speaking, in fact.

Still, the two times she saw him each day, briefly in the morning and even more briefly in the evening, all she could think of was that kiss. Heavens, that kiss. She’d fallen clear to pieces at the first touch of his lips to hers. Tavish had kissed her some weeks earlier near the bridge, had kissed her quite thoroughly in fact, but she’d not reacted in quite the same way. She’d enjoyed it, to be sure. But she hadn’t cried. Even a week later, thinking back on Joseph’s kiss, she couldn’t explain the tears. She hadn’t been upset by it, certainly hadn’t been disappointed. Just thinking back on it made her heart pound so hard she half expected to see it come flying out of her chest. With that pounding, though, always came a fresh threat of tears.