Hope Springs (47 page)

“Life takes and takes, Joseph.” She closed her eyes again. “It just takes and takes.”

I not only can’t make things better, I make them worse.

Chapter Forty

Tears were threatening once more. Katie had kept them at bay for days, but only by refusing to even think about all that had happened. She had tried to hide from her breaking heart, but it lingered there, aching and pricking at her.

Joseph hadn’t looked in on her all day. She’d missed him, and he hadn’t come by. The day was growing harder, and she felt herself drowning in her own sorrows.

“Good afternoon, Katie.” Biddy stepped inside the room. “How are you?”

If Katie had had any doubts about her feelings for Joseph, the fact that she was disappointed that
he
wasn’t standing in the doorway spoke volumes of her love for him. “I’m struggling, Biddy.”

Biddy came over to her chair. “Aye. You’ve a difficult road to walk just now.”

She felt entirely unequal to that trying path. “I don’t like to think of myself as a weak person.”

“Weak? I can honestly tell you, my friend, that I have known few people in my life with the strength you show every day.”

Katie let her head hang. She didn’t feel strong. Not in the least. “I cannot do this alone. I know I can’t. I . . .” Emotions bubbled, obscuring her words. “I need Joseph. I haven’t needed anyone since I was a child. Needing people meant being hurt; it meant being weak. But I need him here.”

She brushed at the tears trickling down her cheeks.

“You love him, Katie.” Biddy squeezed her shoulder. “That is not a weakness. Love gives us strength when our own fails us.”

“My strength seems to have left me entirely.” Indeed, the tears wouldn’t stop. “So, it seems, has Joseph.”

Biddy sat in the chair near Katie and took her one good hand between both of hers. “That is your worry and exhaustion speaking. You know as well as any of us that your Joseph would never abandon you. He is down the Irish Road, fetching his girls. He’ll be back before long.”

My Joseph.
The words acted as a balm to her aching soul.

“I would advise you, though, to pull yourself at least a tiny bit together before Joseph returns.” Biddy appeared perfectly serious. “He’s worrying fiercely about you. The poor man’s a mess.”

“I’m a bit of a mess myself.”

Biddy patted her fingers. “Are you hurting, Katie? Mr. Johnson sent plenty of powders.”

“My arm and hand hurt terribly,” she confessed. “And I’m absolutely certain I have burns on my back.”

“That you do.” Empathy shone in Biddy’s eyes. “And broken ribs and more bruises than Joseph could bear to see. You’ll be pained for some time, I’m afraid.”

“Pained by a great many things.”

Biddy pulled her hands free and stood. “Mrs. Smith is suggesting boiled potatoes for your lunch, but I thought colcannon would be far better. Which would you like?”

“What kind of Irishwoman would I be if I didn’t choose colcannon?” Katie even managed a bit of a lighter expression.

Biddy nodded firmly. “No kind of Irishwoman at all.” She stopped at the doorway and looked back. “I know it’s tired you are, and worried and burdened. But all will be well in time, I promise you that.”

She wanted to believe it. She wanted to be done with the pain and regret. Time heals wounds, she’d heard said, but too many of her scars had been painful and bleeding for far too long. She no longer had her music to turn to. She had but one remaining source of comfort.

“Do you know how much longer Joseph will be?” she asked.

Biddy smiled softly. “Not long, I’d imagine. He seldom leaves, and never stays away long.”

Love gives us strength.
Katie had little experience with such things, but told herself to trust that promise.

“And if you’re feeling up to it, there’s someone else wishing to see you just now,” Biddy said.

Tavish stood in the corridor just beyond the doorway.
Dear, kind Tavish.

“Come in. Please,” she said.

He crossed to the chair next to the bed. “You’re looking better, Katie.”

She gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Seems to me, Tavish, you ought to be fitted for a pair of spectacles.”

He grinned and chuckled lightly. “No matter your protests, you
are
looking better. And this entire town will be glad of it. Joseph especially.”

Tavish knew, it seemed. And though he smiled, Katie could see his disappointment.

“Tavish, I—”

He reached out and took her hand. “I understand, Katie. I truly do.”

She wanted to believe him. But she hated the thought of causing him pain. “You were willing to give up everything for me.”

“Oh, Katie.” He shook his head. “You love him, I can see that.
Everyone
can see that. And you’re happier with him than you are with anyone else. Are you going to sit there and tell me that’s not true?” He gave her a look heavy with doubt.

Simply thinking of Joseph and the strength and love she felt whenever he was near, brought a fresh tear to her eye, and an immediate feeling of peace settled on her heart.

Tavish smiled knowingly. “That right there, Katie, is proof to me that he’ll make you happy. And that is what I want most for you.”

“You are a good man, Tavish O’Connor.”

He released her hand and leaned back in his chair, a laughing smile on his lips. “Ian told me the same thing not many days past. Either my brother is growing daft in his old age, or I am turning out to be a rather exceptional human being.”

“I would wager ’tis a bit of both.” She appreciated the light moment, though it slipped away quickly. “I want you to be happy, too.”

“I will be, Katie. I will be.”

He stayed a few minutes longer, talking on various topics. Conversation was easier between them than it had been in some time but nothing like it had once been. They were finding their new place in each other’s lives, this time as friends. And though she worried for him and ached for the pain she’d caused him, she found some hope that he would, indeed, find his own happiness.

Chapter Forty-One

Though the Irish and Reds had done a fine job of stabilizing and improving the rope bridge they’d constructed, Joseph still worried about his girls crossing it. The river was frozen over, just not solidly enough to trust the ice. He didn’t breathe easy until all three of them were back on his land, safe.

Ivy hadn’t stopped talking since they left the Dempseys’ house. His little chatterbox seemed almost back to normal. If only the nightmares would leave her be.

Emma had spent the day stuck to Finbarr’s side like bark on a tree. Joseph had worried she would drive the poor boy mad. He wasn’t the carefree, sunny young man he’d been before the fire, though he let Emma sit at his side. Neither of them talked, not even to each other, but there was a contentment there that Joseph hoped would one day see them both return to the happy children they once were.

He held the kitchen door open for the girls. Their faces were red from the cold. “Run upstairs and change into your flannel nightgowns,” he instructed. “I will come up and read to you before you go to bed.”

Ivy skipped off.

“Papa?” Emma lingered in the kitchen. She had been so quiet, so pulled into herself. It killed him by inches to see her that way. “Could we say good night to Katie before we go to bed?”

“Katie is still hurting. And she is very tired. We don’t want to wear her out.”

Emma’s mouth turned down. “And she’s sad, like Finbarr.”

Nothing slipped past Emma.

“Yes, they both feel very sad.”

“They’ll be happy again, Papa. You’ll see.” Her declaration bore the imprint of a question, as though she needed him to confirm her hopes.

“Of course, sweetheart. They only need time.”

She looked immediately relieved, though the worry in her eyes didn’t entirely disappear.

“I’ll be up soon, dear.”

Emma nodded and followed the path Ivy had already taken.

I pray you’re right, Emma. I can’t bear to see Katie in so much pain.

Mrs. Smith was in the parlor, working on a dress she’d been sewing over the past few weeks.

“Did Biddy leave already?” he asked.

“About an hour ago. She was feeling tired and intended to go home and rest.”

He would have to think of a way to thank Biddy for all she’d done. He knew the trip down the Irish Road and across the river was not an easy one for her with the added difficulties of pregnancy, and yet she returned again and again. He could never have seen Katie through this recovery without her. “How has Katie been today?”

“Better.” Mrs. Smith gave him an understanding smile. Did everyone in the town know of his feelings for Katie? “She has been asking for you for hours.”

“She has?”
I should have come back sooner. I should have been here.
“Is she still awake?”

“When I was last up there she was.” She motioned with her head toward the stairs. “And she asked if you were home. Again. It seems she would very much like to see you.” Something like a laugh twinkled in her eyes.

He and Mrs. Smith had settled their differences over the last few days. While the girls weren’t entirely comfortable in her presence, he had come to appreciate her ability to run the house and her willingness to help in Katie’s recovery.

He gave her a quick smile of gratitude and hurried up the stairs. Katie had been watching for him all day. He didn’t mean to keep her waiting even another minute.

Please let her be improving. Talking. Smiling. At least a little better.

His heart pounded against his ribs as nervousness clawed at him. He wasn’t sure he could endure seeing her in pain much longer. He stepped through the doorway to his room, telling himself not to get his hopes up.

She sat on the bed, leaning toward her feet, her hair spilling down in front of her face. He couldn’t tell what she was doing. She didn’t sound like she was crying. He heard no moans of pain. She certainly didn’t seem to be sleeping.

He stepped closer. With her only hand she was valiantly attempting to get a stocking on her bare foot. She couldn’t quite manage it though: each time she tugged it toward one side of her foot, it popped off the other.

A smile tipped his mouth.
This
was his Katie, facing problems head-on. She was no longer curled in a ball under the blankets, looking off into nothingness.

He moved quietly to the bedside as she tried the stocking once more. Without a word, he reached over and hooked one finger around the edge of her stocking, holding it in place so she could finally get it on. From that point, she managed the task with relative ease.

She glanced up at him through the fall of her hair. “I didn’t expect this to take so long.”

Joseph sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. Katie pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes, thank heavens, weren’t as bleak as they’d been the last time he saw her. She looked better, stronger.

“I had this wonderful plan to come downstairs before you returned,” Katie said. “You were going to be very impressed.” She let out a puff of breath, sending a few loose wisps of hair wafting upward. “The stockings were harder than I expected.”

She never did give herself enough credit. “You managed to get both of them on. That’s something.”

“I’d meant to put my boots on as well, but I couldn’t find them. And, thinking on it now, I likely couldn’t have tied the laces anyway.”

Joseph laid a hand on her ankle, rubbing his thumb along her thick stocking. “One thing at a time, darling.”

She blushed so deeply and so immediately he couldn’t help chuckling to himself. She lowered her eyes. “You’ve never called me darling before.”

“Haven’t I?” He’d thought of her that way for a long time.

Katie gave him a tiny smile. “I do like ‘darling’ far better than ‘Miss May-kuh-lee.’”

She was smiling again. For the first time in more than a week he felt an easing of the pressure squeezing his heart. “What if I agree to call you darling from now on, and you agree to call me Joseph?”

Her expression was equal parts disbelief and amusement. “I always call you Joseph.”