Biddy arrived in the midst of Katie’s swirling thoughts. Her waistline had expanded since last they’d seen each other; a close observer would be able to tell she was expecting. The strain in Biddy’s eyes had grown as well.
“Good evening to you, Katie. I’ve come for a gab.”
“That is just grand, as I’ve been longing for one, myself.” Katie happily showed her inside. “Would you care for a cup of coffee or tea?”
“Tea would be lovely. ’Tis such a terribly cold night out.”
They chatted as Katie prepared the kettle. Before coming to Hope Springs, Katie had never really had a friend. Biddy had filled that void to perfection. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t see each other.
“I’ve a feeling you heard of the difficulties at church today. Tavish likely mentioned it.”
Katie pulled the tin of tea from its shelf. “He might very well have mentioned it if he’d come by.”
“Not been by?” Biddy stared a fraction of a moment before shaking off her surprise. “Sunday courting is a time-honored tradition.”
“Tell that to my lazy bum of a grandson, will you?” Mrs. Claire called from her rocking chair. “He’s not been by in a month of Sundays. Stops in now and then and flashes a melting smile or offers a mouthful of sweet words, then he disappears for days on end.”
“You know as well as I do, Granny, that Tavish is a busy man,” Katie said. “Further, my own schedule is just as packed full as it can be. He’d more likely than not stop by and not find me here.”
She received a look of exasperation in response. “Aye, it’s busy we all are, including Joseph Archer, but we can’t seem to get rid of that man.”
’Twas a truth sure enough. Katie’s heart warmed at the reminder of his attentiveness and the joy of his company. She had liked him whilst working in his home, but having come to know him outside of that had taught her to love him in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
“Joseph comes by now and then, does he?” Biddy looked between Katie and Granny, eyes wide with anticipation.
Granny answered before Katie could. “More accurate to say he ‘leaves now and then.’”
To her credit, Biddy didn’t laugh right out loud, though she grinned wide enough to make her amusement clear. She lowered her voice so Granny wouldn’t hear her next words.
“Have Joseph’s visits helped you decide which direction your heart’s leaning?”
Katie busied herself with the tea. “I’ve grown more fond of him, certainly.”
“More fond?” Biddy did allow a small chuckle at that. “I’ve a feeling Joseph’s hoping for more than fondness. But if that’s all you’re feeling, that may be the answer you’re looking for.”
Katie shook her head. With a sigh, she confessed, “It’s more than fondness. It’s a vast deal more than fondness.”
“Then why do you sound so sad about that?”
“A woman’s affections don’t change so easily. They shouldn’t, anyway.”
“Katie.” Biddy spoke right over her. “If you’d declared suddenly one day that you had absolutely no feelings for Tavish and had, for no real reason whatsoever, decided Joseph was the very man for you, then I’d agree your affections had changed easily. But, my dear friend, there’s been nothing easy about the debate you’ve been waging with yourself. It’s been weeks and weeks you’ve argued with yourself over this.”
“Because I don’t know what to do.” Uncertainty coiled inside her at the reminder of how turned about she felt in the matter of Joseph and Tavish. “I’ve never had one man vying for my heart, let alone two. And I’ve been on my own for nearly all my life with no mother or sisters or anyone to help me know how to make this kind of decision. I feel so lost.”
“And it isn’t as though you’re choosing between a wonderful man and a horrible one,” Biddy added.
“Aye. That’d be an easy decision for anyone.” Katie rubbed at the tension in her neck and let out a deep breath. “I’m certain there are plenty of people who would declare me inexcusably stupid for not knowing the answer to this. It likely would be obvious to someone with more experience in these matters.”
Biddy took Katie’s hands in hers and looked directly into her eyes. “’Tis the easiest thing in all the world for someone looking on from the outside to declare that the choice is obvious, that you ought to have magically known from the very first moment, that you ought to know both their hearts and minds.”
Katie smiled a bit at the idea. “It would simplify things if I could know what both of them were feeling. As it is, I have to guess.”
“You are trying to make a decision that will change your entire life,” Biddy said. “If you made such an important choice without giving it enough thought to be truly sure—even if you belabored it more than others might think necessary—that would be ‘inexcusably stupid.’ So don’t you give a moment’s thought to whether or not someone might insist this is an easy decision. If it mattered less, it might be simpler.”
“Bring the tea over, you two,” Granny instructed. “I’d like a bit of gossip myself.”
A moment later they were all settled, sipping at their steaming cups. Apparently by “gossip” Granny meant “talk about Katie’s love difficulties.” The topic didn’t wander at all from that one.
Granny rocked as she sipped. “Tell me this, Katie: how do you feel when the two of them are about?”
She hardly had to think to explain her feelings in Tavish’s company. “Tavish makes me smile. I only need to see him across the way and my heart lightens. He makes me happy.”
Biddy nodded, the gesture one of complete understanding. “Tavish has a way of bringing joy wherever he goes.”
“And when he’s nearby, I know I don’t have to worry about the hard and heavy things,” Katie added. “Tavish offers a respite, and that’s something I’ve not had in my life.”
“Is that what you want?” Granny asked. “Someone to take away your burdens?”
To take away my burdens? Sometimes.
“What of Joseph?” Granny pressed. “How do you feel with him?”
That was a more difficult question. “I don’t rightly know how to explain it. I’m always glad to see him, for sure, but I don’t get that immediate urge to grin like I do with Tavish.”
Granny didn’t seem to think that a discouraging thing. “Joseph is of a more somber bent; that makes perfect sense.”
“But I am happy to see him,” Katie quickly clarified. “Indeed, I find myself watching for him even when he isn’t expected. And when he does show up on the doorstep, I feel as though I’ve been holding my breath all the day long and can finally let it out. It’s almost like . . . like relief. When he’s with me, the difficulties and struggles of life are less overwhelming. He doesn’t take my burdens away; he just helps me face them.”
Both women watched her closely, neither offering insights.
Katie continued sorting the dilemma out loud. “Both are good reactions, aren’t they? It isn’t as though I don’t wish to see them or they make me miserable or any such thing. A person wants to smile and be happy. And a person also wants someone in her life who lifts the weight of the day simply by being there with her.”
“Aye.” Granny sipped and rocked and nodded. “But which is it you need most, Katie? Which man brings you that sense of completeness you can’t quite seem to find without him? For which of them do you conjure up that same feeling of being complete?”
What could she do but hold her hands up in a show of utter bafflement?
Granny gave her a look that quite perfectly spoke of knowing the answer her own self, but choosing to leave the words unspoken. “You’ll sort it out. Give it a bit of time, and you’ll realize the truth that’s staring you in the face.”
“You make it sound very simple,” Katie said.
“I hadn’t meant to, dear. It’s anything but.”
Biddy took a quick sip of tea. “I passed Tavish’s house on my way here, and he is making progress
on his building project.”
“I hadn’t heard exactly what it is he’s building,” Katie said, happy to have the topic turned from her very confused heart. “A room of some kind.”
“Aye.” Biddy nodded. “A proper bedroom. He’s slept all these years in a wee nook behind the fireplace. It will be nice for him to have something finer than that. He deserves it.”
“That he does,” Granny agreed.
“And, though he had a lean year like the rest of us, he’s managed to purchase materials and make a full payment on his land. Very few in Hope Springs were able to pay all they owed.” A heaviness settled on Biddy’s face, a sure sign she and Ian were among the number who came up short.
“Is Joseph truly threatening to evict the whole valley?” Katie asked.
“Aye,” Granny answered. “We’ve not given him much choice with all this fighting and stealing going on. That threat is likely the only thing that will get through to everyone.”
“Will he have to do it in the end, do you think?” Katie’s heart sank at the thought.
“I certainly hope not,” Biddy said. “For our sake as well as his.”
As well as his. Joseph cared deeply about his neighbors. Being forced to toss them out would tear him apart. ’Twas nothing short of an impossible situation.
Granny was feeling poorly on Monday, so Katie left the mercantile a little earlier than usual. She thought it a sign of progress that Mr. Johnson was willing to grant her the time. Perhaps others in the valley would follow Mr. Johnson’s lead and set aside some of their animosity. ’Twould save everyone a great deal of heartache.
Her mind was heavy as she walked along the road leading away from town. She feared for her neighbors and the future of Hope Springs. She worried about Joseph and the role he’d been forced to take on.
The sound of footsteps pulled her from her musings. She glanced over her shoulder. Bob Archibald walked not many paces behind her. Katie slowed her steps and moved to the edge of the road, giving him ample room to pass her. But he didn’t. Mr. Archibald kept directly behind her, matching her pace. She sped up once more, and he did the same.
Was he following her? Why?
School wouldn’t be out for a while yet. She was a good distance from town, too far to simply turn back. No one else was on the road. Katie’s heart pounded with the realization that she was alone and being closely followed by a man who hated her, a man with a violent temper.
Trying to keep her growing panic from showing, Katie kept a smooth but quick pace. The Irish Road would be every bit as empty. Did she dare try to get all the way to Granny’s house with Bob Archibald on her trail? If he didn’t catch her before she got home, what was to stop him from forcing his way inside? Granny certainly couldn’t defend either of them.
She didn’t know for certain that Mr. Archibald intended to hurt her, but she didn’t dare take that chance. There was only one real choice.
Joseph’s home.
She cut across the front lawn and directly to the door. She knocked, then glanced back over her shoulder to see if Mr. Archibald was still there. He stood at the fork, arms folded across his chest, watching her. The man was unnerving. At least he hadn’t come closer.
She knocked again.
Mrs. Smith answered. “The family is not at home to visitors.” She made to close the door, but Katie slipped her foot inside enough to stop the door.
“Please tell Mr. Archer I am here.”
“I will not,” Mrs. Smith said. “He is a busy man and not to be disturbed.”
“Did Mr. Archer tell you specifically that if I came to the door, you were to turn me away?” Katie only asked because she knew it wasn’t true. “Your job is to answer for visitors; your employer decides who stays and who goes. I will not be turned away by you.”
Katie didn’t at all like the snapping displeasure in the older woman’s eyes. Still, she held her ground. Between Mrs. Smith and Mr. Archibald, she’d rather face down Mrs. Smith.
“Mr. Archer is not currently in the house. I am a busy woman and will not go hunting him down.”
Katie glanced back over her shoulder. Mr. Archibald was still on the road, but he’d begun moving slowly toward the bridge to the Irish side. He meant to cut her off.
“Please, Mrs. Smith—”
“This is no longer your place of residence or employment. I suggest you get that fact firmly lodged in your mind.” Mrs. Smith shut the door with a snap. Katie heard the door lock.
What do I do now? She couldn’t go back to town. Though Seamus Kelly would help her—and she felt certain if she returned to the mercantile, Mr. Johnson wouldn’t allow her to be harmed either—she didn’t think she could walk all that way fast enough to elude Mr. Archibald. The Red Road was absolutely out of the question.
Oh, Joseph, where are you? She turned slowly away from the house, surveying the area and the situation. What was she to do? She couldn’t be entirely certain Bob Archibald wouldn’t do her a physical harm. Staying on the porch wouldn’t help—he’d already seen that she couldn’t expect assistance from those inside the house—but neither could she get past him to the bridge.
He moved too slowly for his pace to be anything but deliberate. The man knew how to make her afraid.
Katie moved down to the first step, watching Mr. Archibald’s back. There was no reason he’d be headed toward the Irish Road, no good reason at least. He was waiting for her.
You got yourself from Derry to Belfast all on your own at only thirteen years of age, Katie Macauley. You’re no autumn leaf falling down at the first stiff breeze.
She stepped off the porch and onto the path. The wind pushed and pressed at her, as if trying to convince her to return to the shelter of the porch. But she couldn’t hide forever. The safety it offered was a ruse. So long as she was outside the house, there was no real protection there.
A show of confidence couldn’t hurt, though she wasn’t convinced it would help. She held tight to her woolen shawl. It had been woefully inadequate against the cold of the past week, but it was all she had.
One step at a time she moved closer to the bridge and to Mr. Archibald.
Where are you, Joseph? I need you.
Mr. Archibald stopped—he’d reached the bridge—and leaned against a post, watching her approach.
Her feet stopped. ’Twould be foolish to simply walk directly into the trap he was clearly setting for her. But where could she go?
She was closer to the barn than Mr. Archibald was. She might be able to beat him there. Her first night in Hope Springs, she’d hidden in Biddy and Ian’s barn. Tavish had found her there. Perhaps if she ducked inside Joseph’s barn, someone would come to her aid. Or she’d simply trap herself inside with no way out.
Aye, but you might find a pitchfork or something.
It wasn’t the best plan, but it was all she could think of. She set herself to a faster pace, heading directly toward the barn. Mr. Archibald seemed to realize her destination after a moment and moved that way himself.
She walked faster. So did he.
So she ran.
He was likely only steps behind her. She ducked inside the barn. The dimness inside forced her to slow down.
“Joseph?” she called out, hoping against hope to find him there. Only silence answered.
She stumbled about as her eyes tried to adjust to the low light. She’d not spent a lot of time in Joseph’s barn. Where did he keep his tools? She couldn’t remember.
“What have we here?” Mr. Archibald stood in the doorway. “A little Irish mouse that’s wandered too far from home.”
She took a frantic step backward and lost her footing. Her shoulder slammed into the wooden wall of an animal stall. Her face scraped up against it before she could entirely right herself. She could likely see better in the dimness than he could yet. That was her only advantage.
She slipped farther back into the barn, looking about for anything she might use to defend herself.
“There is only on
e way out of here.” Mr. Archibald hadn’t left the doorway.
Find a pitchfork. A shovel. Anything.
“What is it you want, Mr. Archibald?” She searched around her as she spoke, her eyes settling on a gardening hoe. That would have to do.
“Only to give you a word of advice.”
“And what would that be?” She wrapped her hand around the hoe handle, holding it out in front of her.
Mr. Archibald hadn’t taken a single step inside. That didn’t make her feel any safer. “You keep to your side of the river. It’s safer there.”
“I’ve a job to do and the perfect right to come and go as need be.” She tightened her grip.
“We don’t take kindly to the vermin infesting our town, Paddy. Further, we know how to smoke out the rats, send them running from their own sinking ship.”
“We’re none of us running.”
“Yet,” he added without hesitation. “You and your kind stay on your side of the river or we’ll see to it you don’t have a choice.”
“I have to cross the river to do my job.”
Mr. Archibald shook his head, giving a humorless laugh. “You won’t have a job come morning. A few of us will be talking sense into Jeremiah this afternoon. Maybe you ought to try doing the same with your fellow Paddies.”
She kept her gaze on him, watching for even the slightest movement in her direction. “You had to follow me all the way into this barn simply to tell me that?”
“Think of me as the tomcat seeing that the mouse scurried back home.”
She didn’t care for that image. “I’ve never known a cat that herded mice.” They generally ate them.
Mr. Archibald grinned, the oily, worrisome smile she hated so much.
A second figure appeared in the doorway. Was she to be set upon by more than one Red like Ian had been? If so, the hoe would do her very little good.
“Pardon me, Mr. Archibald.” Finbarr turned slightly, enough for a burst of sunlight to glint off the axe he held over his shoulder. There was a lad who knew how to pick a last-minute weapon. No hoes or shovels for him. “I’ve been sent to chop wood and need to fetch my gloves from inside the barn.”
Hope Springs (Longing for Home - book 2, A Proper Romance) Page 21
