The Heart Does Whisper (Echoes of Pemberley Book 2)

by Cynthia Ingram Hensley

  He sighed greatly. “Catie, I stand by what I said. I don’t believe teaching is your life’s purpose. And furthermore, I don’t like the idea of your volunteering at Norbury. I want to keep you from distress of any sort. I realize that is ridiculous, impractical, and perhaps a wee bit old-fashioned, but it can’t be helped. I can no more alter my innate need to be careful with you than I can keep my hair from being black or my eyes from being blue. You must understand, cailín, I would maim, kill, or die for you without a second thought. I mean those words sure as I meant my wedding vows.”

  “Is that what you wanted to tell me in the hall this morning?” Her voice and expression were now tender, warmed by his words.

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “That and I meant to give you a wicked scolding for being so bold.”

  “Oh.” Catie looked down, shamefaced. “Sorry for that. It was a terrible cheek, eh?”

  “Yes, it was. Don’t do it again,” he said with meaning. “Aye?”

  “Aye,” she whispered, biting back a smile, but couldn’t help asking, “Is that your idea of a wicked scolding?”

  “After my temper’s cooled, yes. I can do much better if caught in the moment.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” A long silence passed between them until Catie opened her palm to him, and he put his hand there. “Sean,” she said softly.

  “Hmmm.”

  “I need—or rather must—gain a better perspective on what I plan to do with my life.” She looked at him. “As much as you fancy the domestic bliss of it, darling, I’ll never be your mother. I have the greatest respect for women who make home and family their life’s work, but—”

  “But...it’s not you,” he said, sounding a tad discouraged.

  “It’s not all of me, no. Sean, I like making scones for you. And I love standing at the back door ready to greet you at day’s end as you trudge up the steps loosening your tie. But I have aspirations and dreams too. True, I haven’t yet discovered what they are, but they are here.” She touched her heart. “I can feel them.”

  Selfish as it was, Sean didn’t much fancy sharing Catie’s heart with her dreams and aspirations. Could he have put his hands on them, he would have dragged them out back and made short work of them. But Catie was right. Etta had been keeping him apprised of his wife’s progress in homemaking and cooking. It seemed he hadn’t the fortune of marrying a domestic goddess. Fair is fair though; like Catie, Sean knew that when he married her. He asked, “So you’re coming back to Norbury?”

  “I am. Perhaps nothing will come of it, but I feel I must try.”

  It was both futile and wrong of him to try to dissuade her any further. Besides, Sean wasn’t completely out of options. An Irishman was nothing if he wasn’t clever. There was more than one way to skin a cat.

  “Tell you what.” He scooted off the bed sounding suddenly carefree as a child. “Get dressed, and I’ll buy dinner for you, Gabe, and Etta — a celebration of sorts.”

  “Oh, that sounds brilliant!” she squealed and scrambled to her feet.

  “Don’t get overly excited.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “You married a poor horse farmer, remember? Instead of champagne and lobster, it must be pizza and beer.”

  “I married a future headmaster not a horse farmer,” she informed him with mock indignation then giggled. “Although, considering the sight of you in riding breeches, I wouldn’t complain if you were a horse farmer. And for your information, I’d have pizza over lobster any day!”

  Her little laugh touched Sean’s core. God, he loved her so much. Watching her there, slipping back into the clothes that lay scattered on bed and floor, he couldn’t imagine not having Catie by his side. By bringing his young bride to America, he’d interrupted her education and put her life on hold. Yet, she had put her trusting hand in his and leapt out into a strange, unknown world. If they failed…they failed together. Sean recalled a particular story about his mam and da. His mother was near term with Gabriel—and Sean just a knee baby—when Seamus Kelly brought to his wife the grand plan of purchasing a rundown stable operation. The venture would take all their savings—no minor risk with two small mouths to feed. But Seamus had always dreamed of owning land and running a business of his own. Just castles in the air according to many…but not Emma. Emma believed in her husband when no one else did. Like his father, Sean was a fortunate man. Catie possessed that same faith in him. She would believe in him when no one else did. The thought made him smile. Catie was more like his mam than she realized.

  “I’d have pizza too. I reckon we were made for each other,” he said softly as he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Or”—He kissed her again, delicately biting her lower lip—“we could go back to bed, and I could make you cry out the name of our Savior again.”

  “I did not!” She pulled back and slapped his arm.

  That damned wicked gypsy grin, which both infuriated and impassioned her, curled up one side of his face. “You most certainly did. Said it with such screamin’ passion, I looked over me shoulder, sure he was standin’ there watchin’ us.” He then mimicked her outcry, “‘Jay-sus!’” Her eyes narrowed, and Sean instantly realized his folly.

  “I believe it would be prudent, Mr. Kelly, for you to take your wife to dinner before you place your boot any further inside your cakehole.”

  “Right.” Sean opened the bedroom door and motioned her through. “After you, madam.”

  As they descended the steps, the doorbell rang, and Sean hurried past her to get it. “It’s Delia Reynolds.” He turned and whispered in a way that said if they were quick about it, they could still duck out the back.

  “Well then ask her in, Sean.”

  Making a face, he opened the door. “Delia,” he said with forced enthusiasm. “Sorry, dear, but we were just popping out for pizza.”

  “And we would love for you to join us,” Catie quickly put in, giving Sean one of those wifely looks.

  “But of course we’d be understandin’ if you have other plans,” he added, ignoring the look.

  “Relax, Ricky,” Delia said, staring into a compact and powdering her nose. “I’m not here to see you and Lucy.”

  “Then who are you here to see?” Sean asked.

  “Who are Lucy and Ricky?” Catie questioned.

  “Delia? Delia Reynolds?” Gabriel bellowed from the top of the staircase.

  “That’s me!” Delia said back with a glossy smile that took up most of her face. “You ready?”

  Gabriel gave her one of those charming Kelly smiles with which Catie had become quite familiar. “Darlin’, I was born ready!”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Sean asked Gabriel as he careened down the steps, two at a time, shrugging into his old army jacket.

  “Out,” he told his brother bluntly then leaned down and kissed Catie’s cheek. “Cheers, love. Don’t wait up. I’ll let meself in.”

  As Sean stood at the door—gobsmacked is how Catie would best describe his expression—Gabriel and Delia’s voice drifted up from the street.

  “So tell me, honey, do you prefer Gabe or Gabriel?”

  “The way you say it, darlin’, I’d prefer huu-ney!”

  Delia cackled.

  “Is this your Benz?” Gabriel asked in an impressed tone.

  “It is. You wanna drive?”

  “Oh, aye!”

  Catie heard Gabriel catch the keys as Sean closed the front door and turned a quizzical look upon her.

  “Now how do you suppose those two met?”

  Trying to look innocent, but failing miserably, she shrugged.

  ***

  On the day Catie returned to Norbury, Sean peered through a tiny slit in the school library blinds, watching as she read with Jamal. A perfect match, Seany. Not usually one to boast, Sean quietly congratulated himself, yet again, on his quick manipulations of the situation. From early on, Jamal had quickly claimed a favorite spot in Sean’s heart. Teachers weren’t supposed to have pets, but Sean would call any
teacher a liar who swore to never having at least one. Jamal was so kind and well behaved, Sean knew the child would make Catie’s experience at Norbury a pleasurable one. There was just one minor glitch in Sean’s grand scheme. Jamal really needed the extra tutoring. In comparison to his peers, the boy had significant delays in his reading skills. He heaved a heavy sigh and murmured a soft prayer for the both of them.

  A short time later, Sean lowered himself into his desk chair just in the nick of time. “Come in,” he answered his wife’s little rap, shuffling papers as if he’d been hard at work all morning.

  Catie opened the door, beaming happily. “Well, I’m finished, so I’ll be off now.”

  “How did it go?” Sean asked.

  “You’d not want me to bore you with the details. Would you?”

  “I love boring details.” He patted the corner of his desk. “Sit.”

  Catie’s smile widened even more as she came over and scooted herself onto his desk. “Oh, Sean, Jamal is a delightful boy. And did you know he barely stutters at all when he reads? Also, he has the sweetest manners…”

  As Catie spoke, Sean leaned back and listened with the rapt interest of a man who hadn’t watched the whole morning unfold before him. If one thing could be said for Catie Darcy Kelly, arguably, it would be how keenly she took on any and all challenges. Plus—Sean let his eyes temporarily admire the two perfectly shaped knees that presented themselves from the edge of her skirt hem—his wife was rather lovely when she was all fired up.

  From the doorway, Prissy Middleton cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Not at all, Prissy, do come in,” Catie answered.

  Sean, who was reclined, enjoying the prospect of his wife perched on the corner of his desk, stood abruptly. His cheeks went as red as a lad who had seen a pair of knickers for the first time. “Mrs. Middleton, how are you today, ma’am?”

  She smiled at him. “I’m fine, thank you. I stopped on my way to see if Catie would like to have lunch at my daddy’s golf club. Mama’s been just dyin’ to meet her.”

  Prissy passed an inquisitive look over both of them—wondering, Catie assumed, whether she and Sean had ironed out their differences. Dr. Middleton was right: his wife was a busybody. But she was a well-meaning busybody and so, therefore, forgiven. To answer Prissy’s unspoken question, Catie took Sean’s hand, and with all the sweet admiration of a besotted bride, said, “Sean has been gallantly listening to me prattle on and on about my morning. I do believe I have married the most attentive, indulgent husband in the entire kingdom!”

  Sean laughed. “Now hold on there. You have left out handsomest and most clever.”

  “And most modest,” Catie quipped, cutting a teasing eye at her husband as he helped her off the desk. “We mustn’t forget that one.”

  Sean laughed again. “Take her, Mrs. Middleton, please. I’m sure to hear the whole business again tonight when she tells Etta and Gabe.”

  Prissy Middleton knew not one other gentleman of Her Majesty’s kingdom, but she was sure Sean Kelly was worthy of every bit of his wife’s praise and more. She smiled warmly, pleased with the couple’s quick return to harmony. Theirs was a marriage that would survive many a storm, she thought. “So lunch then?” she asked Catie.

  “I’d love lunch.” Catie reached up and gave Sean a little peck on the lips. “Cheers, love.”

  “Cheers.” Shaking his head, he watched them leave and then sat back down to catch up the work he’d neglected thus far that morning.

  He’d made little headway when there was another knock—more insistent than the last.

  “Come in,” he called.

  “Kelly.” Coach Stevens popped his head in. “May I have a word? I need a small favor.”

  In his first year of teaching, Coach Winn Stevens was a lanky, youthful man with handsome features and brilliant green eyes, which stood out on his light brown skin as if they didn’t belong there. Sean had learned from Dr. Middleton that before Winn Stevens went to college, he had been a resident student at Norbury for five years. After graduating top of his class from Georgia State, Winn Stevens could have coached anywhere of his choosing. He chose Norbury—home. He accepted the job of assistant to Coach Robinson, who was expected to retire in a few years. Sean knew it was Winn’s hope to prove himself to Hugh Middleton and be offered the head coaching job after Robinson left.

  “Anything for you, Coach,” Sean replied. Smiling, he motioned him in.

  “Mrs. Stanley said Dr. Middleton is out this afternoon,” Coach Stevens said as he sat down in the chair across from Sean.

  “That’s right. But he’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Kelly, can I shoot straight with you?” Stevens asked, leaning forward in a confiding manner.

  “Of course.” Sean glanced over to be sure the door was closed then said, “Go on.”

  “Two of my boys, Kevin Brown and Joshua Scott, got into a pretty good scuffle this morning before breakfast. I can’t seem to do anything that will make them get along.” The young coach sounded a tad hopeless. “I really wanted to impress Dr. Middleton, but nothing I do works with those guys. I feel like a real failure bringing them before him again.”

  Sean’s father had once told them that not everything could be learned in books. Never had a statement been truer. How to get respect from your students isn’t something that can be taught. As the eldest of five, managing rowdy boys had become second nature to Sean. Still, for all his years of knocking sense into his younger brothers’ heads, it took a great deal of trial, error, and grit to earn the esteem of his students. And it still wasn’t a skill he’d perfected. Sean understood what Winn was going through. “Send them to me. I’ll have a wee word with them, and Dr. Middleton need not know — this time.”

  Stevens smiled. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. You see, Kelly, I have a plan that just might get through to those two, but I need your help.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Sean asked.

  “Basketball.”

  “Basketball?” Sean repeated.

  “Yeah. The thing is, I’ve been trying to get both boys to play for Norbury, but neither will. Kevin’s too busy trying to fit in with that gang he runs with, and Joshua doesn’t have the nerve to try out.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Force ’em. They’ll do anything to keep from seeing Dr. Middleton again. They’re scared to death he’s going to send them to that military reform school over the county line.”

  “I can’t see Hugh Middleton doing something like that,” Sean said.

  Stevens shook his head, agreeing. “No, he wouldn’t. But he’s also not going to give me that promotion when Coach Robinson retires if I can’t get a better handle on discipline.” He looked at Sean pleadingly. “Please.”

  “I don’t know.” Sean sounded worried. “It’s not protocol, and I really don’t want to end up on Hugh Middleton’s to do list. What if he finds out?”

  “How can he?” Stevens asked. “Only you and I will know. Come on, Kelly. I just know if I can get those two on the same team—working together for the same cause—they’ll straighten up. Sports turn boys around. It worked for me.”

  “I couldn’t agree more but—”

  “I never knew my father, Kelly,” Winn interrupted Sean. “When I was in school here, Dr. Middleton was about the closest I’ve had.” The young teacher lowered his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want that promotion when Coach Robinson leaves, but more than that, I want to make Hugh Middleton proud of me. Stupid, huh?”

  “No. Not at all stupid.” Sean inhaled deeply then blew out through puffy cheeks, contemplating. While he agreed that forcing Kevin and Joshua to play basketball for the school team was a sound recourse, he was experiencing no little trepidation about skirting Dr. Middleton. “All right, bring them in. Let’s get this business over with quickly before Dr. Middleton gets back.”

  “Thanks, Kelly,” Stevens said. Getting up, he wrung S
ean’s hand and hurried to fetch the miscreants. “I just know we’re doing the right thing.”

  Sean wished he felt as confident.

  Though born on good intentions, Sean did not rest easy with the scheme. Normally, he was a man who made up his mind and stood firm to his decision—whatever the consequences.

  “How’d things go here at Fort Norbury this afternoon, Colonel?” Dr. Middleton asked, poking his head in Sean’s office.

  As lost in thought as he was, Sean was grateful he didn’t jump and prayed his expression didn’t betray him. He felt like a boy again, trying to get something over on his da and fearing he might get caught. But he wasn’t a boy any longer. Sean was a man with a career to consider. Had he not promised Winn Stevens, he would have spelled out all for Dr. Middleton then and there. “Only a few casualties, sir,” he replied with a wan smile. At least he didn’t lie.

  “Good…good,” Dr. Middleton chuckled as he made his way to Sean’s window and stared out beyond the grass to the parking lot for a moment, seemingly troubled.

  “Is something on your mind, Dr. Middleton?” Sean asked apprehensively.

  Nodding, Hugh Middleton sighed. “I’ve been at an emergency case meeting for Toby Patterson. The boy has a granddaddy up in North Carolina who didn’t care two twigs about the young’un until word got to him that the boy spoke. He drove five hours to attend the meeting this afternoon.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Right now he’s only askin’ to see the boy. Although, he did say once Toby was ‘fixed,’ he might consider relieving the great state of Georgia of its burden.”

  “Fixed?” Sean repeated incredulously.

  “That’s what he said.” Dr. Middleton shook his head and sat down, discouraged. “A real charming fellah, huh? Damned old coot probably only wants the boy to work his tobacco farm.”

  “Tobacco farm! Dr. Middleton, this is an outrage. Toby’s only spoken to Gabe. I’d hardly call that cured.”

  “Neither would I.”

  “It could be months or even years before Toby decides to talk again.” Becoming agitated, Sean stood up and began to pace. “And furthermore, moving the child could cause Toby to lose what little progress he’s made.”