“No fever at all?”
“None at all. You’re as cool as a spring morn.” Samuel regarded her with confusion, and she could not blame him. How could she explain that it would be simpler if her thoughts had been a hallucination brought on by fever?
“Good.” She sounded foolish, but it would be even more unwise to speak of how she had been ready to let him take her into his arms. It must be the weakness left by her illness and the loneliness of her broken heart. She would not make the same mistake with another man as she had with Abban. She had been shown how silly trust in a man could be. If Abban had been alive when she reached New York with the children …
“Then what’s wrong?” Samuel asked. “Are you in pain?”
“My head is aching.” She would cling to the truth as long as she was able.
“Maybe you should rest some more.”
She hoped her voice did not sound as breathless to him as it did to her own ears when his firm fingers curled around hers, enclosing them in a warm cocoon of flesh. “No, I want to spend more time with the children.”
“They’ve worn you out.” His smile was as paternal as the one he wore when he teased Brendan.
“I’ve waited a long time for this. Now that I’m in Haven …”
“You’re staying here?”
“I can’t leave. I don’t have enough money to pay for even one train fare back to New York.”
His expressive brows lowered. “You mean you bought a one-way ticket?”
“It was all I could afford, and I didn’t want to wait a moment longer than necessary to find my children.”
Samuel’s shoulders grew rigid as Cailin’s had been a few minutes ago. Did she always have to put that slight emphasis on my when she mentioned the children? He did not ask, because it might be his ears that were hearing that stress on the word he had come to enjoy using when he spoke of the Rafferty children.
“I’m sure you understand,” she continued, her fingers quivering in his.
Her hand in his? When had that happened? He released her slender fingers, realizing he must have taken her hand when he wanted to be certain she was not sickening again.
She hastily drew her hand away, holding it close to her chest. His eyes followed the motion and took note of how her breasts pressed against the borrowed shirt—his shirt—with each breath she took. His own breathing was as unsteady as hers. Were they both out of their minds?
Lifting his gaze to a face that seemed to have no more color than the pillows beneath her, he tried to imagine her at Megan’s age so he could finish this conversation with what dignity he had left. It was impossible. Even though her high cheekbones and softly rounded chin surrounded by rich auburn hair were the same as the child’s, he could not ignore the pink invitation of her lips or the very adult emotions in her dark eyes.
He mumbled something and went out of the bedroom. As he walked toward the front door, he was not surprised to hear the kitchen door open and shut and running feet behind him. He paused in the doorway to see both Brendan and Lottie vanishing back into the bedroom. A moment later, her hands covered with flour, Megan followed them.
Walking out onto the porch, Samuel stretched his tense shoulders as he gazed out over the fields of ripe corn. He had spent too much time during the past few days standing guard at Cailin’s door so the children would not sneak in and disturb her. Now he had work to catch up on. Lots of it.
Good. That would keep his mind on something other than dark brown eyes and soft lips. He had thought he had learned his lesson, but it was clear he would end up being taught the same lesson over again if he was not careful.
As he crossed the yard toward the red barn, he heard laughter coming through the bedroom window. He paused and listened to Brendan talk about the first stop the orphan train had made, and how the older boys had tried to sneak off the train to figure out where they were. This tale was one Brendan had never told him.
Walking on toward the barn, he picked up a shovel. He tossed it in the back of the wagon. He had gotten his life to where he wanted it. He had the children to fill his days with chatter. Teaching them their letters so they would be able to keep up with the other children in Haven was a pleasure after a hard day’s labor. Now everything was changed, because of a woman who was dependent upon him to take care of her until she took the children and left.
His hands curled into fists on the side of the wagon. She should not be able to come here and take them away so easily, not when her story had more inconsistencies than a felon’s when facing a jury. Even without his legal experience, he knew she was hiding something from both him and the children. She had left the children in danger once. If she took them away, who could guess what she might do next?
There had to be something he could do. Tonight, when the children were sleeping, he would push aside the pocket doors to the back parlor and unpack the law books he had left in their crates. If there was anything he could do legally to keep her from endangering these children again, he would find it.
Four
As Cailin shifted the ragged gown on her lap, another section tore. She picked it up, wondering how many more patches she could put on it before she ran out of fabric from the sleeves she had cut unfashionably short. She ran her finger along the rent. This could be sewn back together. If she took the tiniest stitches she could, it might not be too obvious.
She looked down at the patches across the bottom of the skirt and laughed sadly. No one would take note of a single repair because the whole hem was now sewn together with so many pieces it looked more like a quilt than a dress.
The children’s voices came from the front of the house. The heat of the day did not seem to slow them, but she was glad to be able to sit by the window to catch any bit of breeze that might climb up from the river.
She heard Brendan calling a greeting. Glancing where the sunshine shimmered on the grass before falling through the window to creep across the bedchamber floor, she wondered what Samuel was doing back from the fields when midday was two hours away. Was this his customary habit?
Cailin set the gown beside the chair. She had left her legs bare in hopes of being a bit cooler, but she could not have Samuel see her limbs if he entered the room. A silly thought, because he must have seen them when she was ill. That was something that could not be changed now. She would not compound their uncomfortable intimacy.
She reached down to pull the quilt up over her legs. Her head spun with the unthinking motion. When she had been able to walk the few steps from the bed to the overstuffed chair Samuel had brought into the room last night, she had fooled herself into believing she was almost well.
She ran her fingers along the chair’s brocade arms. The dark blue fabric was shiny, not from wear like the furniture had been in the servants’ quarters in New York, but from unimaginable luxury.
“I could become accustomed to this,” she said aloud.
Her laugh halted when she thought about Samuel’s few words when he had maneuvered the chair through the door. He had not looked at her until he had set it by the double window.
“I thought you’d prefer not to have the children bouncing on the bed when they come to visit you,” he had said. “And, when you’re well enough, you can sit here and enjoy the sunshine.”
“Thank you.” Her voice had been as distantly polite as his, sounding as if they had never spoken before.
“If there’s nothing else you need tonight, I’ll wish you a good night’s sleep.”
“No, there’s nothing else I need.”
When he had left, closing the door after him, she had stared at the lovely chair. Neither of them had spoken of what she knew was the real reason he had moved the chair into her bedroom. The chair was by the window because he knew that sitting on the foot of her bed was not wise. She had seen that realization in his eyes yesterday morning when she had snatched her hand away from his. She should be grateful for his quiet handling of what was troublesome.
And she was! Cailin
told herself that again, as she had over and over since he had gone to do his chores. She had come here to get her children and find a way to earn enough money to take them back to Ireland. Getting her life ensnared with another green-eyed man would be stupid.
A knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” she called. The children would not knock, and Samuel had not before.
“Emma Sawyer. May I come in, Mrs. Rafferty?”
Aware that she wore little more than a borrowed shirt, she tucked the quilt more tightly around her and draped her torn dress over her lap again before she called, “Please do.”
A blond woman who was growing round with child came into the room. She was taller than Rhea, but not much. She wore an apron over her blue and white gown. A simple straw bonnet was tied under her chin with darker blue ribbons, and she carried a small box.
“Forgive me for the intrusion, Mrs. Rafferty,” she said. “I stopped by to deliver some supplies Samuel had ordered from the store, and the children told me you were well enough to receive callers.”
Samuel… the children. Those words rang with familiarity. This was the woman! She belonged to the voice that had filled Cailin’s head and teased her by refusing to be identified.
“Deliver supplies?”
Mrs. Sawyer smiled. “I run the store in Haven, and I often deliver orders to my customers. However, that isn’t the real reason I came out here today, for Samuel usually picks up his orders when he comes into town.”
“But you were curious about what happened when I came here.”
She nodded as she put the small box on the dressing table. She drew out the stool and sat. “And to apologize. I fear I was so shocked at your questions when you stopped at the store that I was terse.”
“If you were, I didn’t notice. To be honest, I don’t remember much about that conversation.” Cailin sat straighter, then put her hand to her forehead. The ache was fainter, but it was an ongoing reminder not to move quickly.
“Do you wish me to call some other time?”
“No.” By now, she knew better than to shake her head. “I’ll be all right.” Forcing a smile, she said, “Mrs.—”
“Everyone in Haven calls me Emma, so why don’t you? It looks as if you’re going to be around here for a while.”
Wanting to ask if Samuel had sent Emma to discover Cailin’s plans, she swallowed the accusation. It did not matter because she had no idea what she would do when she was well.
“Thank you,” she replied. “My name is Cailin.”
“So I’ve heard.” Emma folded her hands over her stomach, which suggested her baby would be born before spring. “Sean was quick to tell me every detail your son ever shared with him about you.”
“Sean? Sean O’Dell?”
She smiled. “I must admit I seem to know more about you than would be deemed proper when we’ve spoken only once before this.”
“You do?” Her hands clenched on the quilt; then she forced her fingers to relax. No one in Haven could know the one thing in her past that she wanted to keep secret. Not even the children knew of Abban’s greatest betrayal, which she had discovered after the children were taken from Mrs. Rafferty’s parlor, ostensibly to rest.
Emma’s laugh urged Cailin to calm down even more. “Brendan told Sean—and Sean hastened to tell me—about your favorite colors and foods. Nothing too personal, I assure you.”
“Children like to gossip about their elders.” She smiled genuinely for the first time. “I learned that lesson the hard way when Megan shared with everyone at church how I’d been sick the night before.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad. I’ve heard the most amazing—and inappropriate—things from children who come into the store. I try to forget what I hear as soon as I hear it. Who knows how much of it is the truth and how much the child has mixed up?”
Cailin let her shoulders rest against the chair. It was impossible to remain tense when Emma was trying to put Cailin at ease. “I can already see Lottie mixes up a lot of what she hears. She repeats back words she doesn’t know, and they have a whole new way of being pronounced. Yet somehow she makes herself understood.”
“She’s a darling child.” Emma’s smile faded when she said, “You must have missed your children greatly.”
“I did. More than I could possibly say.”
“Then why did you let them go on the orphan train?”
Hoping she would not have to explain to everyone in Haven, she said, “It was a mistake made by my husband’s mother.” She hated defending Mrs. Rafferty, but she would not let the woman’s ambition hurt the children even more. “I was working in a different part of the city, and they were here in Haven before I knew they’d been put on the train.”
“And your husband? Why did he allow it?”
She was better prepared this time. She hoped Emma did not notice how tightly clasped her fingers were when she answered, “He’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s been out of my life for many years now. Lottie’s whole life, for he returned to America before she was born.”
“And you came here to be with him not knowing he had died?”
“Yes.”
“Sean didn’t mention that.” Emma sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken of that.”
“I guess Brendan has forgotten a lot about his father.” Cailin touched a pocket on the dress she had worn when she worked as a laundry maid. It crackled, and she knew the cracked photo was still within it. She had planned to offer it to her mother-in-law but had changed her mind after Mrs. Rafferty made her cold announcements. Realizing Emma was waiting for her to continue, she added, “I doubt Megan recalls much of him.”
“That’s so sad, but they have you to share stories about him with them.”
She nodded. What could she say about Abban that was not tainted with the truth?
“I’m glad you’re here now,” Emma said, her smile brightening. “The children are so happy to have you, and you can see how Samuel has cared deeply for them.”
“I’m very grateful to him.” She toyed with a thread on her gown, then said, “And to you for pointing me in the right direction.”
“If I’d had any idea you were ill at the time, I wouldn’t have let you come out here. Especially when a storm was approaching.”
“I don’t think you could have kept me from coming out here.”
Emma laughed. “I understand that. If someone separated me from one of my children, I think I’d go mad.” She put her hands protectively over her stomach. “But now you can make a new life with them in America, maybe even in Haven. I know my children and Kitty Cat would be happy to have them remain.”
“Your cat?” she asked, puzzled. “Your cat is that fond of my children?”
“Kitty Cat is a little girl near your Megan’s age. Her real name is …” She tapped her chin. “Now, let’s see. What is her real name? Katherine Mulligan, I believe, but everyone calls her Kitty Cat. She came on the orphan train as well.”
Cailin laughed. “Now I understand all the talk about Kitty Cat. I thought Megan was making up tales about a kitten. I couldn’t imagine how a kitten could have a new pink dress.”
“It’s clear you’ve learned a lot about us already.”
“Samuel said no one stays a stranger long in Haven.”
“That’s very true. Does that mean you’re going to be staying?”
“For a while, at least.” She looked down at her frayed gown. “I don’t want to tear the children away from their familiar surroundings again until I’m ready to take them back home to Ireland.”
Emma nodded and sighed. “I think you’re wise. It’ll give them time to say their goodbyes and for you to finish your mourning.” Her gaze slipped to the dark dress on Cailin’s lap. “Right from when I first saw you, I thought you needed to think about healing your heart.”
Cailin shifted, uneasy with the turn of the conversation. Outside, the children were cheering e
ach other in whatever game they were playing. She heard something hit a stick with a whack and more shouts. When Emma did not react, she did not jump from her seat to make sure nobody had been hurt.
Jump from her seat? She could hardly move without sending her head spinning.
“If I’ve offended you by my comments,” Emma said, “I’m sorry.”
“You haven’t. I’m curious why you thought that about me.” If she had betrayed herself and the truth to Emma, she might have done the same with Samuel. She did not want him to demand the truth when the children might overhear. The longer she could conceal her shame, the less likely it would be that anyone would discover it.
“I don’t know. Just the hollow sound of your voice that night, even though you were clearly glad to be in Haven and so close to a reunion with your children. Now you’ve found them, so don’t forget to take care of what’s inside you, too.”
“I won’t,” she said, touched by Emma’s concern for a woman she had just met.
“I was a widow, too.” Emma said the words so slowly that Cailin would have guessed she wanted to avoid speaking them. Was Emma mourning for her late husband even though she had remarried? “I know how hard it is to rebuild your life. If you wish an ear to listen, please come and talk with me.”
“You’re very kind.”
“And I’m overstaying my welcome when you should be resting. Brendan told me not to stay long.” She stood and put the stool back by the dressing table. “He’s very protective. He said more than once that he wanted you to get well so you wouldn’t die.”
“They thought they had lost me once.”
Emma nodded. “I can understand that.”
But I don’t! Cailin wanted to shout. I don’t understand how anyone could hurt a child by telling such a lie.
“This is for you.” Emma held out the box. “I saw you had only a small bag with you, so I thought you might need some things.”
Cailin looked into the box. She picked up a comb from among the other personal items and smiled. “Thank you. I do need these things.” She hesitated, looking from a lacy collar to Emma. “I’m not sure how I can pay—”
After the Storm Page 6
