Color stained her cheeks when she looked up at him. She made no attempt to slip away. A good sign, he felt certain. She could sometimes be jumpy, quick to put up walls between them. A past filled with too much pain and heartache had left her wary, but she was well worth the time and patience he’d need to win her over, if only life would grant him more time to court her properly.
He lightly brushed his lips along her hairline, not kissing her, just barely touching. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his neck. Tavish closed his eyes and tried very hard to think clearly. He was never entirely sure what to do around Katie. If he pulled her tight to him and kissed her soundly, would she melt or would she run? Each possibility was equally likely.
He took a deep breath in through his nose, hoping to calm his thoughts and his pulse. “Did you know you smell like flowers?” He had no idea which variety, but he’d noticed that about her almost from the beginning.
“Scented water.” She whispered the reply. Clearly she was not entirely indifferent to his touch.
He slipped one hand from her waist to behind her back, pulling her ever so slightly closer to him. She made no protest. Tavish lowered his head, giving her ample time to push away or pull back if she wanted to.
Katie tipped her head in his direction, and their lips came within a breath of each other.
“Looks to me as though I ought to be taking my wife out for a Sunday afternoon drive so I can get myself a nice squeeze afterwards,” Da’s deep, gravelly voice said from nearby.
“Quit interrupting my squeeze, will ya, Da?” He didn’t release Katie by so much as an inch.
“Can’t do that, son. The lass hasn’t a father here to see to it suitors treat her as they ought. I’ve taken that task to my own self, I have.”
Da would set himself to such a task. What was more, he’d undertake it in earnest.
Katie pulled back from him, not entirely, but enough to look over at the door of the house where Da stood.
“He’s been a perfect gentleman, I assure you.”
Tavish grinned. “I’ve been perfect, have I?”
Katie pressed her lips together. He’d wager she was holding back a smile of her own.
“Aye.” Da’s tone hadn’t lightened. “And he’ll continue to be a gentleman, else I’ll take a switch to him like I done when he was little and making mischief.”
Tavish took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Off with ya, then, before my father decides to flog me.”
“That’s quite enough, lad. Let the sweet ógbhean go on inside.”
Tavish smiled at her. “When he starts speaking Gaelic, I know I’m in trouble.” He kissed her fingers one more time before letting her go.
She stepped around him. Tavish watched her go. Da met her just at the edge of Ian’s porch.
“He really was behaving himself,” he heard Katie say.
“Oh, I know it,” Da said. “And Tavish knows I know it. And he further knows it would be a scalladh-croidhe to his poor mother should she hear of him acting elsewise.”
Tavish could hear him well and clear, just as he imagined Da wanted him to. He leaned against the buggy with his arms folded across his chest, watching the two of them. Da had a way with ladies, young and old. He wove a kind of spell about them all, putting them at ease and making them trust him. He’d been able to soothe the often-prickly Katie from the earliest days of their acquaintance.
“What has brought on the sad face, Katie?” Da asked.
“Hearing you speak Gaelic puts me in mind of my father. He spoke Irish more often than English.”
“I’m told your father is ailing,” Da said.
Tavish stood up straight, intending to jump into the conversation if need be. Katie was not bearing up entirely under the weight of her father’s impending death. Da would make her cry with such a topic.
“He is,” Katie answered simply.
Da stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, nodding slowly. “Do you think your da would allow me to look out for you while you’re here?”
Tavish fully expected her to avoid the topic as she’d done many times before. She surprised him.
A bit of a smile touched her lips. “I think he would thank you for it. And I’d thank you for it too. I’ve not had a father to care about me in many, many years.”
Da’s very Irish, very blue eyes twinkled back at her. Tavish relaxed, torn between gratitude that Da had worked his magic once more and wishing he himself could so easily earn her faith.
“In that case,” Da said, “if any of the other lads hereabout come around courting you, I fully expect you to tell me so. I mean to make it a particular duty of mine to be certain they’re good men and treating you as they ought.”
“I will, though I don’t imagine there’s likely to be a great many men knocking on my door.”
“We’ll see.” Da nodded quickly and firmly. “Now, I’d be much obliged if you’d step inside and say hello to Biddy before you make your way home. She’s missed you this past day or more.”
Katie looked back at Tavish, a smile playing about her lips, though not fully blossoming. He winked at her, and she slipped inside the house. Da remained behind on the porch.
“A sweet lass,” Da said.
“Aye. That she is.”
Da had given Katie a look of tender concern; the gaze he turned on Tavish was edged with warning. “You’re treating her as you ought?”
“Aye.”
“Don’t let me hear otherwise.”
Tavish nodded his understanding. He moved to unhitch the horse.
“And, son?”
He looked back to the porch.
“Our Katie’s quite a catch. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“That’s a good lad.” Da crossed to where Tavish stood. Together they unhitched the horse. Da rubbed its nose, something he’d done with every horse they’d ever had. “We’ve trouble ahead of us, Tavish.” Da’s hands slid over the horse’s head.
Tavish patted the animal on the back, following as Da led it into the barn.
“More of the same?”
Da nodded. “Johnson told your ma after services today that he means to raise prices on a few more things.”
That sounded decidedly bad. “What things?”
“He didn’t give particulars. Only mentioned it with that smile of his that makes you feel as though you’ve been drinking sour milk.”
Tavish rubbed at the back of his neck. “He means to starve us out, then? Keep us from buying food this winter?”
“Food. Clothing. Supplies. We’re to freeze and starve and, should any grow ill, suffer all the more for want of medicines.”
Tavish took the bridle off the horse and hung it on its peg. “How many will he drive away this year, do you think?”
Da only shook his head.
“Katie gave up Ireland for this, Da. She stayed to make a future here.”
“I know, son.”
“I can’t let it fall apart. Not when it means so much to her.”
Da took to rubbing down the horse while Tavish leaned against the stall wall.
“You know, I was having me a fine bit of courting until you pushed your nosey self out the door.”
Da kept at his work. “I’d wager our Katie doesn’t have a lot of experience with proper courting. I worry about her. About both of you. She’s likely to have her head turned by sweet words and lingering kisses, not really knowing how to discover what it is that she wants and needs most.”
He looked at his da. “Isn’t that what courting is supposed to do? Turn a person’s head?”
“Unless that courting turns her heart, it won’t be enough.”
Tavish shifted a bit. “I have to convince her to fall in love with me, is that it?”
“To fall the rest of the way in love with you,” Da corrected. “She likes you well enough, cares for you truly and deeply, but you’ve some work yet to do.”
“Well, then.” Da took a step away from the horse. “Best of luck to you with that.”
That brought a smile back to Tavish’s face. “You are no help at all.”
They laughed as they returned to Ian’s house. But underneath the smile, Tavish’s mind spun.
Unless that courting turns her heart, it won’t be enough.
How could any person truly win a heart as closely guarded as Katie’s?
Chapter Nine
“Well now, Tavish, you seem to be having a party and I wasn’t invited.” Katie stood in the doorway of Tavish’s house. He and the women of his family were up to their elbows in glass jars and berries.
He tossed her a lopsided grin. “This here is one of our famous preserving parties.”
Tavish had told her once about his female relations gathering to help him put up jellies and such from his berries. ’Twas how he made his living, going about the territory selling what they preserved. Why, then, hadn’t she been asked to join in?
“Is there room for one more?” She tried to keep disappointment out of her voice.
“There is always room for you, Katie,” he said as he set back to his work. ’Twasn’t the most flattering invitation, but it was a welcome one at least.
Always room for her. That, she knew all too well, was not true. There’d not been room for her in her family’s home by the end of things. She was supposed to go to Manchester because they couldn’t keep her, because there’d not been a place for her in her own home. That reality haunted her even now.
It would have been different going back. If she’d returned, her parents would have wanted her there. They needed her. She might have helped during the few remaining months that lay ahead of Father. She might have been a balm to her mother’s loneliness. She would have been welcomed. They would have made a place for her. Surely they would have.
“Katie?”
Tavish’s voice broke through some of the fog of memory, but it was his gentle touch on her hand that brought her fully back to the moment.
She tried for an unaffected smile. He clearly didn’t believe it.
Still, she pressed ahead. “I am quite handy with a canning jar or a paring knife. Give me a task, Tavish. I’m looking for a spot of work.”
He squeezed the hand he held. “You’ve had a difficult couple weeks, Katie. What you need is rest, not more work.”
Katie plopped her hands on her hips. “And where do you get off, Tavish O’Connor, dictating to me what I need?” Work had been her escape for a very long time. Music soothed her, but work gave her purpose.
The scolding widened his eyes. Perhaps she’d snapped a bit more than necessary, but she never had liked being told what to do. He likely hadn’t meant the words to feel that way, but they had just the same.
“Biddy’s had a harder go of it than I have, and she’s here.”
Tavish’s gaze slid to his sister-in-law. “She needed the distraction.”
“At the moment, Tavish, I need one as well.”
His free hand slipped around her waist and he pulled her close. “There are far better distractions than putting up preserves,” he whispered to her.
Her entire face heated even as a tiny smile echoed from her heart. “Do you never stop flirting, Tavish O’Connor?”
“Of course. But I needed to see that smile of yours, Sweet Katie.” He spoke quietly, his breath tickling the hair near her temple. “Everything’s right in my world when you smile.”
“If the two of you are done loving on each other, you might give us a hand.” Tavish’s older sister, Mary, gave him a look of pure scolding, but she winked at Katie.
“Have I mentioned that being under my sister’s iron thumb for these few days every year is my absolute favorite part of being a berry farmer?” The sarcasm in his voice made Katie smile ever brighter.
“What is it you need me to do?” She directed the question to Mary and earned a grin wide as the River Foyle.
“I see our Katie knows just who is in charge here,” Mary said.
Tavish laughed. “It’s only that you’re so everlastingly bossy.”
Mary stuck her tongue out at him just as she’d likely done when they were small children.
“Have a sit down, Sweet Katie.”
“We’re mashing and straining these for jellies.” Mary indicated the bowls of berries on the table. “We’d be most grateful for your help.”
Every woman in the room gave Tavish an “I told you so” look. Katie could almost feel sorry for the man. He was terribly outnumbered.
Katie pulled a pail of blackberries close to her and took up a mashing implement. She’d spent enough hours kneading dough that she knew she had the strength for this task. Work would do her good, just as she’d said it would. Using her muscles helped clear her mind.
The berries were small, but a beautiful color. Katie had had the chance to eat a few over the past weeks as they’d ripened, so she knew they were as delicious as they looked.
Tavish returned to his own work, with something of resignation in his demeanor. Was he upset with her for arguing with him?
He looked up briefly, just long enough to indicate his sister with a jerk of his head and roll his eyes theatrically. They shared a quick moment of amusement. Katie knew then all was forgiven.
“’Tis a very good thing you had the jars already, Tavish,” Mary said as she stirred a large pot heating on an ancient stove. “I hear Johnson has raised his price.”
“Aye.” Tavish crushed more berries. “He’s trying to put me out of business, no doubt. No one else needs jars as much as I do. But if we run out of sugar, I really am in trouble. He’s tripled the price for us ‘Paddies.’”
Medicine. Cloth. Jars. And now sugar prices had gone up as well? Where would Johnson stop?
“Is it true about salt?” Biddy’s voice was so small it drew all their eyes to her. She was too pale. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.
“Aye. ’Tis true enough,” Tavish said.
Biddy took the tiniest step back from the table. Her shoulders slumped a bit. “How are we to preserve the meat when it’s time for the hog slaughter if we can’t afford salt? We’ll have no meat for the winter. What’ll we eat? The children—.”
All the others exchanged uncertain, worried looks.
“We’ll manage, Biddy,” Ciara, the youngest sister, said. “We always manage.”
A tear gathered in Biddy’s eye. Her lips shook. Biddy had been so strong through the difficulties she’d faced. To see her break down over the price of salt was heartrending.
Katie spoke up. “Do you think you can see to the mashing on your own, Tavish? I’ve a longing for a walk in the fresh air, if Biddy’ll come along.”
“I really should stay and help.” Biddy’s protest was halfhearted at best. “Tavish has done so much since Ian’s . . . injury.”
Katie threaded her arm around her friend’s elbow. Biddy allowed herself to be led away. “He has two sisters helping him just now. That’ll do fine.”
She opened the front door and looked back once more at Tavish. He smiled and nodded encouragingly, mouthing a “thank you.” She led Biddy outside. The day had turned a bit cool. Winter was coming early to Wyoming.
Biddy hesitated at the edge of the porch. “Tavish’s ma usually helps with this as well, but she’s looking after my Ian and the little ones. Tavish is shorthanded without her. I can’t just walk out.”
Katie kept Biddy at her side and walked slowly toward the road. “We’ll double back after a moment,” she said. “But just now I need you to talk to me. Tell me what’s weighing on you.”
Biddy shook her head. “You have trou
bles enough of your own.”
Why did everyone seem to think her incapable of bearing difficulties? She’d not crumbled under the weight of the last eighteen years—she wasn’t about to do so now.
“Friends are supposed to share burdens, Biddy. I am your friend, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.” Biddy actually looked shocked that she would question it. But Katie had never really had a true friend before. She often felt as though she were guessing her way through their friendship.
“Then tell me what’s brought on the tears. I may not be able to help, but I can at least listen.”
They turned up the road, not heading anywhere in particular.
“I overheard my father-in-law and my brothers-in-law talking when everyone was over on Sunday evening. They don’t think Ian will be very well recovered for the busiest parts of the harvest.”
Katie had her doubts on that score as well, but had kept the thoughts to herself. Biddy had enough reasons for worry.
“They all mean to help bring our crop in, but they have their own to see to. And Tavish is already behind in preparing for his deliveries. He lost some of his berries because we didn’t preserve them quickly enough. He can’t afford to lose any more.”
Tavish hadn’t said anything to Katie about that.
“We’re going to lose some of our crop.” Biddy spoke quick and low, as though the thoughts were simply pouring out of her now that she’d started. “And the prices at market are expected to be low this year as it is. Now Mr. Johnson is raising the Irish prices again. I don’t know how we’ll get through this next year.”
“You’ve made it through before.” Katie hoped the words didn’t sound hollow. She simply didn’t know what else to say.
“This time is different.”
“Because of Ian?”
“And—” Biddy swiped at a tear and then at another.
“And what?”
Biddy stopped at the side of the road. She slumped under an invisible weight. “I’m to have a baby, Katie. Toward the end of winter.”
“But this is good news, is it not?” Katie couldn’t at all tell just by looking at Biddy.
Hope Springs (Longing for Home - book 2, A Proper Romance) Page 7
