Hope Springs (35 page)

Very little light spilled from the windows of Mrs. Claire’s house. Joseph didn’t see the sweet old woman sitting in her usual seat by the window. He pulled his pocket watch out, doing his best to see the face in the dimness.

Nine o’clock. It was little wonder he was hungry and exhausted.

The girls would be asleep. Katie and Mrs. Claire might be as well. If he knocked, he might wake them up. Still, he wouldn’t stand out on the porch all night, and he wasn’t returning home without Emma and Ivy.

He leaned his head against the closed door, trying to summon the energy to decide what to do next.

The town had lost its smithy. He doubted those who’d celebrated the destruction understood just how devastating that could be for a community as isolated as Hope Springs. The anger simmering on the Irish Road wouldn’t remain under the surface long. It would boil over, matched only by the hatred of the Reds. It was really only a matter of time.

From inside Mrs. Claire’s house, he heard the faint sounds of crying. One of the girls? Joseph opened the door, peeking inside. If Emma or Ivy was hurt or upset—

He saw no one but Katie. She sat in the far corner of the room with a blanket draped over her shoulders, her knees bent, arms wrapped around her legs. Her head was bowed too much for Joseph to see her face, but it didn’t entirely muffle the sound of her sobs.

Words failed him. Katie didn’t cry often. Seeing it killed him a little every time.

The room was empty except for her and the low-burning fire. She was nowhere near the fireplace. Of course she wasn’t.

He crossed to where Katie sat. For a moment he searched for something to say. Nothing came to mind, so he simply kneeled beside her.

Her head jerked up. Tears streamed from her red, puffy eyes. Pain clenched Joseph’s chest at the sight.

Something like panic crossed her face. She swiped at her wet cheeks. “I only just—I didn’t—Only after the girls were asleep. I—” Her face crumbled as she took in a shuddering breath. “I know you told me not to fall apart until you came to get them, but—I tried, Joseph. I just . . . I hate fire. I hate it so much.”

“I know.” He rubbed her arm, unsure what else to do. His first inclination was to put his arms around her, but the last time he had done that, he’d ended up kissing her, and she’d run away.

“I didn’t cry until the girls were asleep. Not until then.” She sniffled. “No one else is awake. It was just me, so you can’t yell at me for that.”

“I wouldn’t yell at—”

“I don’t work for you, or anyone else. I’m no one’s servant anymore, so I can cry anytime I want to.” Her voice broke more with each word. “I am not a servant, and I am not a child. No one can yell at me for crying anymore.”

“You were yelled at for crying?”

Katie dropped her head onto her knees again. “I’ve had a hard day, Joseph.”

He shifted from his knees to a seated position next to her. Again, he had no idea what to say. She’d been scolded for crying, and not only during her childhood. He’d chided her for it just that afternoon.

“No wonder Tavish told me I was being heartless.”

She turned her head but didn’t lift it. “He said that?”

Joseph chuckled ruefully. “He didn’t mention that when he came by?”

“He hasn’t come by.”

“He didn’t come over at all?” Joseph frowned. Tavish had left town hours earlier.

Katie shrugged a little. “Mrs. Claire saw him pass by with Ian. She said Ian didn’t look well at all.”

Ian’s pallor had noticeably increased after Joseph issued his ultimatum. Ian hadn’t made his land payment. Had evictions proven necessary, he would have been forced to take Ian and Biddy’s home away from them. Even understanding the necessity of it, Joseph had hated himself in that moment. What kind of man lays such an enormous burden on the shoulders of a suffering friend?

“He is putting on a brave face, but he isn’t recovering very fast,” Joseph said. “I am doing what I can to help him and his family, but I feel helpless in so many ways. I worry about him, but I can’t seem to do anything substantial to help him.”

“I feel the same way about Biddy,” Katie said.

What would I do without Katie?
She listened to his worries without dismissal or judgment. She understood his concerns and struggles. Until he’d met her, he hadn’t realized just how lonely he really was.

“If you can think of anything I might do for Ian and Biddy, let me know,” he said. Katie could be counted on to be aware of people’s hidden needs.

She reached up and touched his face. He took in a quick breath. The woman had no idea what she put him through.

“You are a good man, Joseph Archer,” Katie said quietly.

He didn’t want to send her running from him again. If he didn’t think about the warmth of her hand on his face or that tantalizing scent she wore, he might make it through their conversation without making a fool of himself.

She rested her head on her knees again. A wisp of hair settled across her temple. His eyes lingered on that bit of hair. He forced his gaze away—if he didn’t concentrate on something else, he’d have to sit on his hands to keep himself from touching her.

“Did you have a difficult time with the town? You look troubled.”

He was troubled by too many things to even count.

She smiled at him. “Would you like me to play my fiddle for you?”

Her fiddle.
He loved hearing Katie play.

“Music soothes the soul,” she said. “My fath—my father told me that,” she finished on a whisper. Her smile vanished.

Her father was dying. Joseph had mailed her letter weeks earlier, then another of his own after that, but no answers had been waiting for him at the telegraph office when he took his grain to the depot. He had hoped to receive some word from her parents to help ease the pain in her heart. Here was yet another way he’d failed her.

“Mourning for a parent is a difficult thing,” he said.

Katie shook her head swiftly and adamantly. “I’m not mourning.”

He begged to differ. He knew the look in her eyes well enough. “You have to let yourself grieve, Katie. It will eat away at you otherwise.”

She sat up, leaning against the wall behind her, her arms wrapped about her middle. “I can’t. If I start crying about this, I’ll never stop.”

He knew, at some point, she would have to let herself weep for the loss of her father. She would have to grieve for all the pain she’d passed through as a child. But she had cried enough for one day.

Her stockinged feet peeking out from under her dress gave him the perfect change of subject.

“You’re wearing my stockings.”

“If I were wearing
your
stockings, they’d never fit.” She managed a fleeting lift to her lips.

He leaned against the wall as well, matching her posture and position. “My coat doesn’t fit you either, but you wear it.”

Katie rested her head on his shoulder. Joseph did his best not to breathe too deeply. If he moved in the slightest, she might pull away.

“It is too big, but it’s far warmer than my shawl.”

Joseph adjusted the blanket barely staying on her shoulder. That put his arm conveniently where it needed to be, though he hesitated a moment before settling his arm around her. She held her blanket close, but leaned more heavily against him.

He settled in, seated against the wall with the most amazing woman he’d ever met in his arms. It was the closest thing to heaven he could imagine.

“Did I ever thank you for the stockings, Joseph?” She sounded a little sleepy. He hoped that meant she was relaxing, letting some of her tension slip away.

“You did thank me for them,” Joseph assured her.

“They are so warm.” She wiggled her feet, her missing toes giving an oddness to the movement. “My feet won’t ever be cold again.”

Her tale of losing her toes to frostbite and infection still haunted him. “I hope they won’t be.”

She shifted enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still red and swollen, but she looked at least a little less burdened. “Between your stockings and coat and my fiddle and those sweet little girls, I might just survive all this.”

“That is exactly what I am counting on.”

Her eyes opened and closed slowly.

“You should go to bed, Katie.”

“I can’t. The girls are sleeping there.” Her head returned to his shoulder.

He leaned against the wall again, content to have her at his side. “Why didn’t you send them up to the loft?”

She yawned. “I was playing my fiddle for them in my room and they fell asleep. I couldn’t bear to wake them up.”

She’d given his girls the gift of her music and the peace it brought. It was little wonder they loved her so much.

“Did you know, Katie—when you were still living at our house and would take your violin out by the grove of trees, I used to sit on the back porch and listen.”

Hearing her play at night had quickly become a highlight of his evenings. He’d spent each day hoping she would play that night. Hearing her music never failed to astound him, but there were no words adequate to describe
seeing
her play. The music transformed her. He didn’t think he ever saw her quite as at peace as when she played her violin.

“I have missed your music since you moved out.” He ran a hand along her hair, relishing that rare moment of closeness.

“I play for you nearly every time you’re here, Joseph.” She snuggled in closer to him. The woman was determined to torture him. “Perhaps you need to come by earlier in the day so you can hear it longer. I think you need the music.”

All I need is you.

Katie grew still, her head still leaning heavily against him. Her breathing slowed and deepened. Joseph memorized the feel of her so perfectly tucked against his side. What he wouldn’t give to spend the rest of their lives like that. But was that what she wanted?

He breathed deep the flowery scent of her hair. She might very well choose Tavish in the end. But he had this one moment with her.

With the patter of little feet, the moment ended.

“Pompah?” Ivy stepped out of the hallway, rubbing her eyes.

“Over here, darling,” he whispered.

She stumbled about, clearly half-asleep. Ivy curled up on his lap and promptly fell asleep again. He stayed that way, with Ivy and Katie asleep beside him. This was how he’d always imagined his family life would be. Happy children who knew they were loved. A capable and determined woman at his side, one he loved so much it hurt sometimes.

Life with Vivian hadn’t been that way. She’d been unhappy most of the time. In the end, she’d abandoned them all. Happiness was there beside him now if only she would choose to stay.

He dozed off and on for a while before realizing they couldn’t spend the entire night sitting on the floor. He slipped Ivy from his lap, settling her next to him. Careful not to wake Katie, he took the blanket from her shoulders and laid it over Ivy.

“I will be back in just a moment,” he whispered to his little girl.

Shifting about with Katie leaning against him proved something of a trick, but he managed it. He slid one arm under her bent knees and the other behind her back. He moved slowly to his feet, not wanting to wake her or Ivy or anyone else in the house.

Katie didn’t move. Even so deeply asleep, she looked exhausted. Was he asking too much of her, sending the girls over every day? She was baking bread for free for the entire Irish Road. And, though she insisted otherwise, Joseph knew she carried the full burden of keeping Mrs. Claire’s home tidied and in good repair, as well as cooking every meal and seeing to all the laundry.

He didn’t know where else to lay Katie down except back in her own bed. Ivy had left the door to Katie’s room open when she’d wandered out. Fortunately, she’d also left the quilt tossed back on the bed. That would simplify things tremendously.

The bed, however, was not empty.

Emma lay with one arm and half a leg dangling over the side. He carefully set Katie down on the bedtick and pulled the quilt over her.

“Let us hope Emma keeps still tonight,” he whispered to her, “or you will hardly sleep.” He brushed his hand along her face. “I love you, Katie.” He kept the whisper almost inaudible.

Her eyelids fluttered and she smiled a bit. Had she heard him?

“Katie?

But she didn’t answer, didn’t stir. Joseph stepped around to the other side of the low-lying bed and rolled Emma more fully onto it. He tucked the blankets around her as well. The movement was enough to wake her the tiniest bit.

“Papa?” Her voice was equal parts confused and sleepy.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Her eyes opened a sliver. Her forehead creased. “Where am I?”

Emma disliked being away from home. She worried when her usual routine was upset. “You’re with Katie. She’s right here.”

The worry immediately melted from her expression. She silently nodded and closed her eyes. His little worrier was put at ease so quickly simply by knowing Katie was nearby.

“I know just how you feel,” he whispered.

Ivy was still asleep in the main room under the blanket. Joseph picked her up and carried her to the chair by the fireplace. He settled in with her there. It would be a long night trying to sleep sitting up, but he couldn’t justify waking his girls after the day they’d had and making them walk all the way home in the falling snow. And, though he struggled to admit it even to himself, he didn’t want to leave. He spent so much of his days trying to think of an excuse to visit Katie or prolonging the time it took to pick up or drop off the girls each day. For that one night, he could stay in the house where she lived and pretend that he belonged there.