“You said to James what I have been wishing you would believe yourself.” How could he make her understand? “I don’t turn my back on people, Maura, especially those I care about. Especially those I love. Not because I feel obligated or because I haven’t sorted out how to shed myself of the ‘burden’ of them.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed it. “Because it is who I am, and it is how I love.”
She held fast to his hand.
“When I tell you, Maura, that I mean to be at your side no matter what lies down the road, and when I tell you that walking that path with you is not a burden, I want you to—I need you to believe me.”
Maura slipped her hand free of his and gently touched his face. “You will be required to give so much. What do I have to offer in return?”
He pulled her close. “You can hold me.”
One corner of Maura’s mouth tipped upward. “I’ve asked you for that a few times.”
“And I rather like that you do.” Ryan rested his forehead against hers. “Build a life with me, Maura, no matter what that looks like or how long we have. That is what I wish for most; that is what you have to offer me. It is the reason that purchasing a wagon and building the hay barns didn’t matter one bit once I met Dr. Jones. He could give you better health and less suffering; he could give you time.”
“He could give us time.” She could not have responded in a way that brought him greater reassurance.
“Us,” he repeated.
“Us ought to join your brother and ma at the wagon, or we’re likely to be left behind.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s a very good thing I like headstrong women.”
She smiled up at him. “A very good thing, indeed.”
He felt a mere breath away from convincing her that their love and commitment to each other’s happiness was reason enough to move forward, to plan a future even knowing they would have to adjust as life changed.
Chapter Forty-two
The musicians looked cold. Maura had heard this was likely to be the last ceílí of the year. Weather always determined when the parties ceased for the season, and it was already very nearly too cold for anyone to enjoy themselves. Yet, somehow everyone managed to find delight in the gathering. This was a happy town; she loved that about Hope Springs.
Maura sat flanked by Katie and Biddy on one side, Mrs. O’Connor and Mrs. Callaghan on the other. Little Sean Archer, bundled in a thick quilt, lay in his mother’s arms.
“Well, we’ve reached the end of another harvest,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “Astounding how fast the years fly.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Callaghan agreed.
“I suspect everyone knows we’re likely done with the ceílís this year,” Katie said. “The dancing’ll be quite enthusiastic, and the tales even taller than usual. Should be a fine evening.”
“I brought Aidan here to give him a connection to his family, but I cannot tell you how grateful I am that he has also been given a connection to his heritage. And it’s rather beautiful the way these weekly parties combine the sounds and tastes and tales of home with those from America.”
Biddy nodded her agreement. “There is some comfort in knowing the young people will keep their connection to Ireland even if it will never be home to them.”
Mrs. O’Connor took a slow, slightly shaky breath. “How I wish Finbarr would come back to the ceilís. I fear he’s losing more than his connection to Ireland.”
“We must have hope,” Katie said. “He will find his way.”
Maura turned to her mother-in-law. “And I believe Patrick will as well.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “Both of you. I dearly love those lads of mine, but life certainly has not been easy for any of them.”
“And you have lost one,” Maura acknowledged. “I would not wish you to lose another.”
“I am determined not to.”
The musicians being between tunes, Seamus Kelly called out over the crowd. “We have a special treat tonight, friends.”
Someone shouted their guess. “A song for the doctor?”
Seamus shook his head. “He didn’t come this evening.”
“Wise man,” was the cheeky response.
Seamus ignored that comment. “As you well know, we’ve sadly had but one piper these past years. For our unenlightened American friends, ’tis a tragedy, that. Having more than one piper means we never go without pipes, and if there’s one thing a ceílí should never be without, it’s pipes.”
The mention of pipes had Maura paying very close attention.
“My friends,” Seamus said, “we’ve the beginnings of another piper among us. I’m told he’s been studying the instrument only a couple of months, but he can play a tune or two and means to make his debut here tonight.”
Applause and cheers accompanied the announcement. Maura held her breath. She’d not heard a word about Ryan teaching Aidan to play the pipes, though he’d said he would months earlier. She’d assumed they’d simply not found the time to do so.
Yet there the two of them stood, in the midst of the musicians, transferring the pastoral pipes from Ryan to Aidan, unheard words being exchanged between them. Ryan likely offered a few reminders and a good bit of encouragement. He chucked Aidan under the chin and gave him a quick nod.
“What do you mean to play, lad?” Seamus asked.
Aidan took a breath so deep his chest expanded with it, then collapsed as he pushed it forcefully out. His coloring had dropped off more than a bit. His mouth hung the tiniest bit slack. Maura clasped her hands together and raised them to her lips, uttering a silent prayer for her boy. Ryan set a hand on his shoulder but let Aidan speak for himself.
“I’m going to play ‘The Road to Lisdoonvarna.’ I’m going to try, anyway.”
The musicians immediately began conferring. After a moment, Thomas Dempsey stepped out from among them.
“I’ll play with you, Aidan. I know this one well.”
Aidan pushed out a breath. “I’m not very good at it yet. And I’m not fast.”
Thomas just smiled. “You begin playin’. I’ll follow.”
Ryan stepped back, letting Aidan have his moment. Aidan pumped the bellows beneath his right arm, the familiar drone emerging. He met Thomas’s eye, but didn’t begin playing yet.
“Get on with ya, lad,” one of the musicians called out.
“Cain’t be any worse than Ryan’s playing,” one of the American musicians added, earning a laugh from the others.
Maura hadn’t thought of this benefit; not only was he learning to play an instrument, but he was also gaining a place in the town band, with support from the more experienced musicians, and kinship with the younger ones just now learning to take their place amongst the others.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Thomas said, his tone quiet and encouraging.
Aidan set his fingers on the holes in the chanter. He began pressing the air from the pipe bladder, and that oh-so-familiar sound of Irish pipes filled the gathering. His fingers moved about, and the tune, slower than usual, but well played, emerged. After a moment, Thomas joined in, not taking over the lead spot in the tune, but, with a few trills and flits, expanding the sound of the song in a way that gave Aidan’s efforts a bit of polish.
Maura’s gaze flicked to Ryan just as he looked over at her. She could not entirely keep back the tears of delight that sprang. Ryan smiled broadly, returning his gaze to Aidan. The song wasn’t long; Aidan was, after all, not playing for dancers, nor participating in a number featuring all the musicians. But when he finished, enthusiastic cheers met his efforts.
Aidan blushed, but he also smiled. His attention turned immediately to Ryan, who stood mere steps away, applauding loudly. Unmistakable pride filled Ryan’s expression.
“I think Ryan likes our Aidan,” Mrs. O’Connor said.
Mrs. Callaghan corrected the observation. “He loves that boy. He truly does.”
Maura turned to Ryan’s mother.
“I didn’t realize they’d been undertaking lessons. ’Twas mentioned ages ago, but nothing seemed to have come of it.”
“Ryan’s enjoyed teaching the lad to play. The pipes have brought him a great deal of joy in his life. Watching him pass on the music he loves has done my heart a world of good, and I believe it’s done his good, as well.”
“And mine,” Maura added. “I’ve a love for the pipes myself. And for that boy.”
“What about Ryan?” Katie said. “Do you love him too?”
Maura turned wide eyes on her friend, who simply laughed.
“Everyone was thinking it,” Katie insisted. “I am merely the one who said it.”
“Our situation is not so straightforward as mere declarations of love,” Maura said quietly.
“Love doesn’t exist only in simplicity,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “It’s not meant to emerge only after life has calmed and settled. Love offers strength through life’s chaos and upheavals.”
“And through doubts,” Katie said. “Doubts nearly kept Joseph and me apart, and that would have been an utter tragedy.”
“Words left unspoken nearly kept Ian and me apart,” Biddy said.
Mrs. O’Connor chimed in as well. “And the very real complications of life nearly divided our Tavish and his sweet Cecily. I am fully convinced we would have lost him if they’d been kept apart. Theirs is so deep and abiding a connection that without her, he simply would have drifted away.” She took Maura’s hand, holding her gaze with determination. “I see the same with you and Ryan. When the two of you are together, you both look lighter and less burdened. There’s a support you receive from each other that no one else in this ol’ world seems able to give. To lose that would be a tragedy, Maura. Do not wait for life to give you permission to love. Let love give you permission to live.”
Maura blinked a few times. These past weeks, her emotions were so near the surface all the time. “I’ve spent so much of the past decade just trying to survive. I’m not certain I remember how to ‘live.’”
Mrs. O’Connor motioned toward the musicians. “I see someone coming this way who can probably help you sort that out.”
Ryan arrived in front of her only a moment later. He smiled, as he always did. “Our Aidan’s quite a lad, isn’t he? Took to the pipes like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“My da was a piper,” she said.
“As are you,” he said, “though I’ve yet to hear you play.”
Survival hadn’t allowed for such unnecessary pursuits. “Perhaps it’s time I tried again.”
“Truly?” He sounded genuinely excited.
“I doubt anything I played would be worth listening to,” she warned him. “It’s been many years.”
“I guess that means you’d have to come by often to practice.” His was a flirtatious smile. He offered his hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet. He tucked her arm through his. “Pardon us, ladies,” he said. “I’m going to take a turn about the ceílí with this lovely colleen.”
She rested her head against his shoulder as they walked away.
“Do you really mean to play the pipes again?” Ryan asked.
“I’ve decided it’s time to start living again, to start finding joy in the life I’ve been given.”
His arm slipped free of hers and encircled her waist. “Do I get to be part of that life?”
She turned and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “If you’d like to be.”
He tugged her closer. “With all my heart.”
Chapter Forty-three
Ryan sat in his favorite spot out in the fields. The river ran slowly. A cold breeze blew. Winter had brought an end to the ceílís; two weeks had passed since the final one of the year. Not far distant, children rushed out of the schoolhouse for their daily lunch. Soon it’d be too cold for any of them to be out of doors for very long. He’d miss laughing at the games they played and witnessing the sheer joy they tossed into every moment.
Across the way, the older children were playing a game of rounders. Ryan hadn’t played the game in ages. Aidan stood waiting his turn to bat. He looked away from the game for just a moment, spotting Ryan. He waved.
Warmth bubbled inside. This was a moment Ryan had imagined so many times. A child of his—for Aidan felt as much like a son as he could imagine—waving, connecting with him while they were apart.
Ryan raised his arm and waved back, smiling. Aidan smiled as well. His attention quickly returned to his game, but he’d seen Ryan there. He’d been happy to see him. He’d reached out.
The quick moment between them meant more than Ryan could say.
Footsteps pulled his gaze from the river. He knew the red coat on the instant. Maura. A smile pulled at his lips. Did this stubborn woman have the least idea how much he loved her? How much he missed her when she was away? How much he would give to have her with him every day of the rest of her life?
“Ryan Callaghan,” she said as she approached. “I thought I might find you here.”
He rose from his rock and walked toward her. “You know my secret spot, do you?”
“I’ve seen you here many a lunch hour.”
He’d never spotted her at the school.
She smiled. “You’re visible from the spot near the Archer’s barn where I do the laundry.”
“Ah.” He was near enough to hug her, and he didn’t hesitate to do so. “You’re breathing better, love. Sets m’ heart at ease.”
She set her open palm on his chest. “I have something for you, something that’ll set my heart at ease.”
“Have you?” He wove his fingers together behind her back. “Is it that you and Aidan are coming for supper tonight? Because that’d be a fine thing.”
She shook her head.
“Is it that you mean to join us for the next piping lesson?”
She shook her head again.
“Why not, dear? You said you’d enjoy playing again.”
She turned a little in his arms, managing to slip out of his embrace and take hold of his hand in one fluid motion. “I’ve a surprise for you, and you can’t see it from here. So you’d best come along.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed willingly, happily. “Do you mean to give me a hint, at least?”
“It’s something I’ve been working on, that’s taken some doing, but I’m so pleased everything’s finally coming together.”
He chuckled. “That’s not very revealing.”
She tossed a smile over her shoulder at him. “I never said I’d give good hints.”
They walked past the house toward the east fields. The soddie was visible in the distance, as were, when Ryan looked more closely, a great many people. Near half the town must have been there. Long planks of wood were stacked nearby. Most people held various tools. All were watching their approach.
“What is this?” Ryan asked Maura.
“You’d hoped to build two hay sheds with your profits this year, but you brought Dr. Jones here instead.” She held his hand between both of hers, watching him almost anxiously. “I’ve been asking, and I found enough people with bits and pieces of lumber and nails and shingles and such, that, by combining all of those bits, we gathered enough supplies to build the second hay shed. It’ll not be fancy, and it likely won’t be as large as you’d have liked, but it can be done.”
His mind struggled to accept the enormity of what she was saying. “They’re here to build a hay shed, with bits they donated?”
She nodded. “And they’re doing so happily. Your neighbors love you, Ryan. They really do.”
He looked out over the familiar faces, touched by their willingness to help him. He knew enough of their individual struggles to know that for some, providing even a single nail would be a sacrifice. “I don’t want to burden them.”
“’Tisn’t a burden. Some who hadn’t anything to donate are here to give their time and labor, just as you’ve done for so many of them.”
Amazement rushed over him. “I’m going to have two h
ay sheds.”
She grinned. “And you’ll not have to worry about losing your crop.”
“And you made this happen.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Wonderful, darling Maura.”
“This is what I have to offer you, Ryan. I haven’t the strength, or likely the longevity, I wish I did, but I’m headstrong and determined, and I very much care what happens to you.”
He enveloped her hand in both of his. “You offer far more than that, mo stór.”
“But you’ll accept the shed?”
“Oh, I will accept it.”
He laughed, and so did she.
“Go greet your neighbors, Ryan. They’re waiting for your instructions.”
“Thank you, my dear,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then, mind still spinning with disbelief, walked to his gathered neighbors.
Soon the project was underway. A shed was not so complicated as a house, or even a barn. They’d have it up by suppertime. Were the shed construction undertaken in less cold weather, they’d likely have ended the effort with a small ceílí.
Maura kept the workers supplied with tea and coffee, pausing now and then to give him a smile or brief hug. Heavens, a man could get used to that.
In the midst of the efforts, Burke emerged.
“You’ve joined us,” Ryan said, rather shocked. The doctor was seldom seen outside of his official capacity.
“Maura can be very persuasive,” was the explanation. Nothing in his tone or posture spoke of displeasure.
“Her breathing sounds better,” Ryan said. “And she has more energy.”
Burke nodded. “She’ll grow tired quickly for a while, but I believe the valley fever is beginning to lose its grip.”
“What about the brown lung?” Ryan asked.
“I’ll need to have a listen now that she’s closer to her usual state. That’ll give me a better idea.”
Nervousness mingled with hope in Ryan’s heart. “Perhaps after we’re done here this evening. She can just stay here. That’d save you both a bit of a walk.”
Burke agreed. “I’ll plan on it.”
Long Journey Home Page 35
