by Renee Ryan
She promptly burst into tears.
“Oh, Bridget.” Nora smoothed her hair off her face. “No matter what you say to defend the man, he carries some of the blame.”
Bridget’s entire body stiffened. “He has reasons for honoring his promise, reasons that go beyond his inherent integrity, reasons I can’t tell you.”
Nora remained unmoved. “Is that so?”
“He’s trying to make things right, for Bridget Collins and for me, in the only way he knows how.” Why hadn’t she seen that sooner, why had she been so insulted by his kind gesture? “He offered me money and then a job at the mill.”
“And you refused both.”
Something in Nora’s voice, something that sounded far too much like censure, had Bridget gaping at her. “Why are you so sure I refused Will’s assistance?”
“You never accept help, not even from family.”
“I…” She frowned. “Never? Surely that can’t be right.”
“Sadly, it is.” Nora slid down on the bed next to Bridget and stared up at the ceiling. “Your refusal to lean on your loved ones in times of crisis is your most frustrating quality, dear sister.”
Bridget twisted the edge of the blanket between her fingers and stared up at the ceiling. “Will said something similar. He said that I knew how to give but not how to receive.”
Nora snorted in agreement. “He knows you very well.”
The echo of a smile trembled on her lips. “Yes, he does.”
After a moment Nora rose and helped Bridget up, as well. “What are you going to do now that Will is determined to honor his promise to that awful, awful girl?”
Bridget cringed at Nora’s hard tone. “Don’t, Nora. Don’t judge her so harshly. She’s had a hard go of it.”
“So have we all. But sometimes we don’t always get what we want.”
“I know. Oh, Nora, I know.”
Nora pulled her into her arms and gave her a tight, sisterly hug. “You deserve happiness, Bridget. And so does Will.”
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I thought so, too.” She stepped back and shook her head. “But he has goodness in him. I was so busy looking for flaws I missed that at first. It wasn’t until I saw the way he was with you and the children yesterday that I changed my mind. He adores you, Bridget. He would have made you happy.”
Futile disappointment tinged her vision. “It doesn’t matter anymore. All I can do is step aside and try to build my life without him and the children.”
“The twins. Oh, Bridget.” Nora’s hand flew to her mouth. “What are you going to do about Olivia and Caleb? You can’t walk away from them, not after all they’ve been through.”
A cold, thin pain slid through her heart. “No, I can’t.”
Bridget would not abandon the twins like their mother had. She had to stay in their lives and, if necessary, when the time came, she would slowly ease away. But only if necessary.
Surely Will would understand her need to stay in the children’s lives.
For their sake, he had to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Less than a week with Birdie in residence and Will’s home had lost much of the joy Bridget had so effortlessly restored. It wasn’t that Birdie was a terrible person. She was simply miserable. And no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t seem to snap out of her melancholy.
At least she put on a brave face around the children. The three of them got along well enough, but there was no real connection. Impromptu picnics were a thing of the past. There was no more spontaneous laughter at meals, no more musical performances or rousing games of tag. In four short days, Olivia and Caleb had reverted back to the overly polite, well-behaved children they’d been before Bridget had come into their lives.
The only time the twins showed any signs of enthusiasm was when Ben came by and took them on a ride in Cam’s rickety wagon. Because they were usually gone all afternoon Will suspected Ben took them to see Bridget.
He would have to thank that old coot one day.
And Bridget, as well. Even when he’d pushed her out of all their lives, she hadn’t abandoned the children.
Sitting behind his desk in his study at home, Will leaned back in his chair. The sun was finally setting, marking the end of another disastrous day. A kaleidoscope of moving shadows flickered across the floor, creating an eerie picture—a perfect accompaniment to his grave mood.
He couldn’t marry Birdie. That much he was ready to admit to himself. He could never subject his children to a lifetime with a woman even more unhappy than their mother had been.
Nevertheless she was his responsibility.
Lord, what am I to do?
The obvious answer was to set her up in her own home and provide her a job, either at the mill or somewhere else. There were other options as well, including sending her back to Ireland. The problem he faced was that he had no idea what Birdie wanted. All he knew was that she was wretchedly unhappy in his home.
A tentative knock jolted him out of his reverie. Will called out, “Come in.”
The door creaked open and his mother’s head of silver-white hair poked through the opening. He motioned her forward.
As she stepped deeper into the room a burning throb knotted in his throat. The purple smudges were back under her eyes. A clear indication Will had made a mess of all their lives.
His future bride was supposed to have taken the burden off his mother, but Birdie was too caught up in her own pain to provide much help. Bottom line, she was no Bridget.
Bridget. His beautiful, wild-haired, Irish lass with the tender heart and…
No, Will. Bridget Murphy is not yours, not anymore.
He closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer for discernment. Hope for the future drifted just out of reach.
“We need to talk,” his mother said in a firm voice that belied the look of exhaustion in her eyes. “About Birdie.”
He nodded, reconciled with the inevitability of the impending conversation.
“I understand why you brought the girl into this house, but you must realize how unhappy she is. She doesn’t want to be here.”
No, she didn’t.
He forced himself to rise from his chair and make his way around the desk. “As much as I value your opinion, this is my misstep to unravel.”
“But you will unravel it, son. Promise me.”
“Yes, mother.” He took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. “I promise.”
She slumped against him in relief. “You’ll do so soon?”
“No, not soon.” He flattened his lips into a determined line. “Now. This very minute.”
He released her and started for the door.
His mother stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I know that look in your eyes. You’ve come to a decision, haven’t you?”
“I have.” Or at least he was close to doing so. There were a few points he needed clarified first.
“What are you planning to do?”
Several options came to mind, long-term solutions. But before he made any move he had to discover where Birdie stood on several matters, including their supposed marriage. “I’ll know more once I speak with the girl.”
“No need to seek me out, Mr. Black.” The door creaked on its hinges and Birdie pushed into the room. “I’m right here.”
Not taking his eyes off the girl, he said, “Mother, will you please excuse us.”
Esther gave a heavy sigh but made her way out of the room without argument.
Will held his tongue until he was certain he and Birdie were completely alone. “I think you will agree that our current arrangement is not working out.”
“No.” H
er lower lip trembled. “It is not.”
“I have several possible solutions. But first I want to ask you a question.” He took her hand and guided her to a nearby chair. “Do you wish to marry me?”
Her gaze widened at his blunt question, making her look very young, more child than woman. “No, Mr. Black. I do not.”
He forced himself to speak calmly. “You are sure?”
“Yes. I never wanted to marry you.” She clasped her hand over her mouth as though shocked the truth had slipped out.
“It’s all right, Birdie. You may speak plainly with me. There will be no penalty for speaking your mind.”
She lowered her hand, swallowed hard. “Our marriage was a way to make money for my family. They didn’t want me to do it—” a sob wrenched past her lips “—but I told them I wanted to help. Money was so scarce…”
What a terrible situation for them all. And Will had played his part. He’d made the offer, had sent the money. He winced at his own shortsightedness.
Forgive me, Lord.
Now that he knew the truth, Will would do his part to rectify the situation. He would give Birdie the second chance she needed. And he would do so generously.
“You are sure, Birdie?” He asked the question very slowly, very carefully, giving her one last chance to state her wishes as truthfully as possible. “You are absolutely sure you do not want to marry me?”
“I—I want to go home.” Two fat tears fell from her eyes. “Please, Mr. Black, send me back to Ireland.”
* * *
Bridget tried to move on with her life as best she could, but the brave face she presented to the world was a lie. Every day without Will became harder to bear than the one before, and with each new dawn came a renewed internal struggle. Should she yank the blanket back over her head and remain there all day? Or should she buck up and pull herself together?
As Nora liked to remind her, Murphy women never gave in to defeat.
And so, like all five mornings prior to this one, Bridget forced herself to climb out of bed and dress for the day.
Her fingers were clumsy, her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. There was no denying she missed Will desperately. She actually longed for him as though a part of her very soul had been ripped out. Even her afternoons with the children were bittersweet because he wasn’t there to share them.
It had been Esther’s idea to send Olivia and Caleb to Bridget for a few hours every afternoon, a way to help ease the transition for them all. Ben had been kind enough to offer to transport them out to the house every day.
Bridget wondered what Will thought of the arrangement. Surely he knew. Ben and Esther would never go behind his back. Would they?
Mind working through the question, wondering why she sensed he’d been kept in the dark, she stepped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of tea. Perhaps she should seek him out this next week and tell him. It would give her a chance to see him, to—
No. That would only make matters worse.
Sighing, she looked up. The incessant banging indicated Cameron was already hard at work on the roof. He seemed determined to spend every free moment he had helping them prepare the house for the coming winter. Was he acting out of simple kindness, or something more? Something to do with Nora?
Smiling for the first time in days, Bridget glanced out the window to where Nora and Agnes were weeding together in the garden. Well, Nora was weeding. Agnes was perched on a bench, chattering away, baby Grace in her arms. The older woman looked happy, so did Nora, except when she glanced toward the roof. Then she looked uncertain, nervous even, uncharacteristically so.
Bridget’s smile widened, just as a movement off to the left captured her attention.
Doing his part, James shuffled back and forth between the house and garden, clearing away the piles of weeds when Nora’s stack grew too large.
Watching the Coulters and Nora get along so well, Bridget thought about how far she and her sisters had come in less than two months. The journey across the ocean had started out with little hope and a lot of prayer. All the fear and uncertainty had been worth it in the end. They’d found a home and life in a new country.
Meeting Will and his beautiful children, getting to know and love them, had been an added blessing. The Lord’s plan for her life wasn’t entirely clear in her mind anymore, but Bridget had no regrets.
Not…one…single…regret.
Then why the wrenching gasps of agony? Why the burning throb in her throat? Giving in to her misery, she buried her face in her hands and let the sobs come.
And then she heard someone say her name.
Will. Will was here. “Please, go away. I can’t speak with you right now. I—”
Strong arms gathered her close.
“Bridget, my love, don’t cry.” His deep voice washed over her, soothing her.
The simple pleasure of being wrapped in his arms made her feel so much worse. The sobs came harder, faster, louder. She tried to push him away, humiliated, but his hold tightened and he began murmuring words of comfort, the meaning of which she couldn’t seem to make out.
For several seconds he stroked his hand down her hair, then brushed his lips against her forehead. “There’s no need to cry.”
She quivered, caught between yearning and lost hope.
Will’s hand worked small circles along her back, up and down, round and round. All the tension drained out of her and she relaxed into him. She just wanted a moment with the man she loved, just one, but then sanity returned and she pushed him away with a hard shove.
The air between them pulsed with tension.
Bridget studied his face, surprised to see the stubble shading his strong jaw and the tangled hair on his head. Will never left the house disheveled. What had happened?
What did it matter?
She wiped the tears off her cheek and closed off her heart. “You can’t hold me like that ever again. You’re to marry another woman. Being here, with me, like this.” She waved her hand between them. “It’s wrong.”
“Felt right to me.” The flare of love that flashed in his eyes sent her pulse rioting out of control.
I love you, too, her heart whispered. Longing filled with hope reared, lingered, but she fought the painful emotion back. A torrent of words came rushing forward, none of which made it past her lips.
Eyes softening, Will wordlessly reached for her again. She leaned forward a little then caught herself and took a pointed step back.
A deep frown etched his forehead. “You’re making it hard to tell you how I feel.”
“I don’t have the right to hear it.” It would hurt too much. “And you don’t have the right to tell me.”
“I’m botching this.” He rubbed his face with both hands. And for the first time since he’d arrived Bridget realized he wasn’t simply disheveled but fatigued, as well.
“Will?”
“I put Bridget Collins on a ship back to Ireland early this morning, before dawn.”
Bridget’s heart stumbled. “You—you what? Why?”
“She wanted to go home.”
“She—she didn’t want to marry you?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Not in the least. Praise the Lord, she’d never wanted to marry me. The arrangement had been a way for her to make money for her family.”
Bridget nodded in comprehension. After the potato famine many families had resorted to all sorts of creative means to survive. But for Will to have to hear from his bride’s own mouth that she didn’t want to marry him, that must have been painful. Bridget had lived that humiliation herself.
Except Will didn’t look sad or embarrassed or hurt. In fact, he was grinning at her.
“You’re not upset Birdie didn’t want to marry you?”
He roped her body against his and bent his head so that his mouth landed just shy of hers. “Not in the least.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead, then her cheek, then her mouth, where he stayed put for a while.
“You’ve ruined me for other women, Bridget Murphy.”
She liked the sound of that, very much.
He kissed her nose. “You brought music and joy into my home again. You are a mixture of grace and strength, a woman who gives all of herself and holds nothing back. You taught me to enjoy life again and to love with all that I am.”
Her heart stopped altogether and then started beating faster, harder, leaving her happily dizzy. “Oh, Will, the capacity to love has always been in you. You’ve never held back with Olivia and Caleb.”
“But I did with everyone else. I shut off any desire to love again. You broke down my defenses, with your sweetness and giving nature.” He nipped tenderly at her ear. “I love you, Bridget Murphy. I think I have from the moment I first saw you on the docks.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered in return. “And I know it was from the very moment I first saw you on the docks.”
He chuckled. “Marry me. Be my wife and the mother of my children. We’ll let God direct our path. And I promise, I’ll no longer try to control every outcome on my own.”
This wonderful man declaring his love for her was full of surprises. Her hand stole up the side of his face. “And I’ll no longer refuse your gifts, tangible or otherwise. I want you to take care of me, Will, in the same way I’ll take care of you. I want to receive all that you have to give to me, as well as give all that I am to you.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She kissed him on the mouth. “Yes, yes, yes. I’ll marry you.”
“As soon as possible?” he asked.
“As soon as possible.”
Setting her out of his arms, his manner seemed easy and relaxed but his eyes were full of emotion. “Come, Bridget.” He reached out his hand to her. “Come greet the rest of our family.”
He guided her outside. Waiting in his carriage were two very excited children and one rambunctious dog.
