Redeemed Hearts

by Cathy Marie Hake

  I wronged you and am worthy of your resentment and hatred. There are no words to say how sorry I am. Forgiveness is a sacred thing, something only God or His children can grant. I was unworthy of His mercy; yet He granted absolution. My sins were cast into the depths of the sea. Timothy, you will sail those seas. It is my hope that you will not let my sorrows and sins burden you and cause your spirits to sink.

  Anna is with the Lord; and by the Savior’s mercy, I’ll see her in heaven someday. It is my prayer you will serve God and live a rich, full life, so I can finally see you face to face in paradise.

  Edward Timothy Newcomb

  Duncan finished reading the letter aloud.

  “I want nothing from you,” Edward said softly. “I just wanted to leave the letter and ring here. I’ve made a life for myself—one that is full, save the fact that it is lonely. Wealth, I’ve discovered, is empty when love is absent. I’ve set up an account for Timothy, and he’s named as my sole heir.”

  “Your money willna mean a thing to the lad,” Duncan’s mother whispered tearfully.

  “I don’t expect it will. It’s all I have to leave him, though.”

  Brigit was trying to muffle her sobs. Duncan strode over to her. The poor lass looked woozy and overwhelmed. He shouldn’t have allowed her to stay in the room and witness this private business, but it was too late now.

  “Ah, Brigit.” He pulled a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her cheeks. “Your poor head. It must be aching something fierce.”

  “’Tisn’t that at all. It’s none of my business, but it’s all so verra tragic.”

  “You’ve such a tender heart. I’m sorry—”

  “I’m sorry, too.” She clutched his hand. “I’ve read the newspapers and heard people talking about a coming war where brother would fight against brother. The war already came to this family. ’Tis more than enough to break my heart.”

  Duncan let out a deep sigh. “There’s already been enough hurt, hasn’t there?”

  Brigit nodded. The action made her draw in a sharp breath and close her eyes. Her grip tightened as more tears seeped from beneath her lashes. The sight of it made Duncan want to roar, but she whispered, “He’s not defending his reprehensible actions. He called himself a sinner and confessed.”

  “Stop fretting over that now. You’re hurting.”

  Her eyes opened, and a touch of a smile tugged at her lips. “It would take far more than a mere bump to bother a hardheaded lass like me, Duncan O’Brien. Go pay attention to the important things.”

  “I am.”

  Her brows puckered. “What are you planning to do about him?”

  Arguing with her wouldn’t accomplish anything, and he did need to make some hefty decisions. “This has knocked the wind out of my sails. I need some time alone to pray.” He turned loose of her hand and tunneled his arms beneath her. “Let me carry you into the other room. My mother will stay with you. Da will go fetch the doctor.”

  Once he was alone in the room again with Edward, Duncan didn’t feel ready to talk. He knelt by the fire and whispered, “Father, he’s done such awful things.”

  They’re all forgiven.

  “He killed my Anna. Tim’s been without a father.”

  Anna is with Me. I’m Tim’s eternal Father, and I gave him John so he’d have a godly man as his example. You are there for Tim, too. Will you teach him bitterness and vengeance, or mercy and grace?

  “How can I forgive Edward? I’ve carried hate in my heart for him all these years. I didn’t think I had, but I have. Seeing him here brought back everything.”

  Forgive him as I forgive you, My son.

  Time passed; and for every thought and protest Duncan had, God met him at the point of his hurt.

  Slowly Duncan stood to his feet. He went to Edward. “Knots aren’t just things in ropes. They’re in hearts and souls and memories.” He took a knife from the table. “I don’t want to be bound by them any longer.” He sawed through the rope. “God’s grace and mercy go with you, Edward.”

  Twenty-one

  Absence doesn’t just make the heart grow fonder—it makes me a bit crazy. Duncan stood in the entryway and scanned the stairs and open doorways, hoping for the impossible: to catch Brigit. The doctor ordered that she stay in bed for a few days due to the bump on her head; and once those days were up, she had come back to the big house. John had insisted on making a personal apology and escorting her back himself. Duncan felt more than a little surly about that second fact. He’d looked forward to having at least a few minutes to walk with Brigit and speak to her privately.

  It’s been nigh unto a week, and I’ve seen only that woman’s back as she scurries off. I saw more of her when I had her living with Da and Mama.

  Oh—evidence of her presence surrounded him. The scent of her perfume lingered in rooms. Swags of pine and holly she’d made festooned the house both inside and out. Ribbons and wreaths had always been a tradition, but this year they abounded. The twins spent hours on end at the piano, plinking out the simple melodies to two Christmas carols Brigit taught them. Duncan wanted to enjoy the holidays before he set sail. It was difficult to, though. Each time he tried to get near Brigit, she slipped away. It used to be that he couldn’t avoid her. Then he’d needed to make a bit of effort to stop by his folks’ each day to check on her and enjoy her company. Now that she was back in the main house, he could barely find her.

  Emily didn’t help one speck, either. Just about the time Duncan would locate Brigit and approach her, Emily would call her away or send someone to summon her with a ridiculous matter that was “urgent.”

  “Emily.” He closed the parlor door, shutting his sister in. “We need to talk.”

  “Very well.” She handed him a tiny key and pointed toward the window seat. “Open that. I have something I need to hide in there.”

  He removed the pink-and-cream-striped cushion and un-locked the hinged lid. “What is this all about?”

  Emily laughed. “Since the first year I married John, I’ve used this as my hiding place for Christmas gifts. It’s the one place nobody ever bothers. John bought Timothy a sextant, and I need to tuck this in before someone finds it. We thought that was a fitting gift for him this year. Don’t you agree?”

  Duncan didn’t bother to open the handsomely carved wooden box to admire the piece. He’d let Tim have the honors, then speak his praises on Christmas. “You always make fine choices.” After he took care of that matter, Duncan sat Emily down and held her hands in his. “Em, I want you to stop interfering.”

  “Inter—”

  “Don’t you dare try to play innocent. I know you far too well.”

  She huffed. “You’re impossible to please. You told me you weren’t ready to settle into marriage and insisted I cease what you called the ‘petticoat parade.’ Well, I have, and now you’re not satisfied.”

  “You look entirely too pleased with yourself,” he muttered. “I am consistent. I’ve told you not to interfere, that I’d choose my own wife.”

  “Wife?” Emily gave him an innocent look.

  Duncan squeezed her hands and let go. “You’d try the patience of a saint, Em. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m going to win Brigit’s heart. I can’t very well do it if you keep hindering me. Stop helping her get away from me.”

  Patting her slippered foot on the floor, Emily gave him an impish smile. “It took you long enough. How many unsuitable lasses did I have to march past you before you finally figured out the perfect woman was under our verra roof?”

  “You were trying to match me with Brigit all along?”

  “Isn’t it just the funniest thing in the world?” Emily smoothed her skirts. “You’re so very much like my John—you live in a gentleman’s world, but you work with a rowdy crew. Brigit comes from a fine family. They eventually lost everything due to the famine, and she’s been supporting her parents by working here.”

  Duncan moaned.

  “Aye, Duncan-boy-o. She’s well educated an
d cultured, but she never once minded putting her hand to any task—however small or dirty it might be. She’d been here only two days ere I wondered if she’d be the one for you. The night you and she shared that tea party with the twins, I knew your future was assured. I even took Brigit aside that night for a pot of tea and found out more about her. While you were busy denying the truth, I was getting to know my future sister-in-law.”

  “If you were so certain, why did you keep shoving those other women at me?”

  “Contrast. It was simple contrast.” Emily gave him a mysterious smile. “It’s taken you far too long to see the jewel that was right under your nose.”

  “Then stop delaying it further. I have a plan. You can help me.”

  ❧

  Brigit knew Duncan’s new vessel was finished. Emily planned a christening the day after Christmas, and the ship would then go on her maiden voyage. That day couldn’t come fast enough.

  He’d thought her guilty. Aye, he had. Once she’d gotten a chance to think back, Brigit came to the galling realization that Duncan had been doing everything he could to set her up and capture her—he’d been trying to charm her, make her feel safe. He’d shared in her tea party and piano lesson with the twins. He’d discussed books—oh. Her heart twisted at the memory of how he’d toyed with her. He’d asked her about what punishment was appropriate for a thief!

  And to think she’d actually fancied him a bit. That stung even worse. She’d given him her trust, and he’d barged right into every activity he could to find her weaknesses. The man was a scoundrel.

  At least I didn’t make my feelings known. I don’t have to be humiliated that way. Sure and certain as can be, I’ll never think of him favorably again. It may well be my job to serve the whole family, and I’ll do it to the best of my ability, but I don’t have to waste my breath talking to him.

  ❧

  Duncan thought it quite telling that he had such cooperation with his scheme. Aye, the children thoroughly approved. He didn’t have to give them the name of the lass whose heart he wanted to net. They all guessed, and he didn’t bother to deny a word.

  It hadn’t taken much at all to enlist their help. Duncan simply went out and came home with an armful of mistletoe. He’d no more than walked in the door, and Lily peered down at him from the second floor. Her face lit with glee. “I’ll fetch Anna Kathleen. We’ll help!”

  In almost no time at all, she and Anna tied the mistletoe into dainty little balls and sprigs. Timothy and Titus came over to investigate what they were doing and offered to help Duncan tack up the mistletoe in every doorway. It was gratifying, knowing they supported his plan.

  Timothy stood back and stared at their handiwork. He smirked and elbowed Titus. “Our Duncan’s a man on a mission.”

  “I’m thinking it’s a dangerous one,” Anna chimed in as she looked up at the doorway where they’d just hung the last sprig. Her brows puckered; then she stood on tiptoe to straighten out a twisted ribbon. While Duncan wondered how she’d managed to turn into a fastidious young woman under his very nose, Anna gave him a pitying look. “Brigit’s good and mad. I don’t blame her one bit.”

  “I can’t see why.” Titus propped his hands on his slim hips.

  “He’s too young to understand.” Lily tilted her nose at a superior angle.

  “Hey. I’m older than you are!”

  Lily gave her brother a hopeless look and shook her head so emphatically, her dark curls bounced. “What woman would want a man who didn’t court her?”

  “He’s got mistletoe all over the house. She can’t possibly miss it.”

  “Worse,” Anna said softly, “what woman would want a man who didn’t believe in her?”

  “What kids wouldn’t want some of Cook’s gingerbread?” Duncan pointed toward the kitchen. “I’ll bet you could talk her into letting you have some. Can’t you smell it?”

  They went off to the kitchen, but Duncan stayed behind and scowled at a small, fuzzy mistletoe leaf on the floor. Anna’s words troubled Duncan. Does Brigit think I don’t believe in her?

  Never a man to stand by and do nothing once a problem was identified, Duncan sought Brigit at once. At least this time, Emily won’t call her away. That thought did him no good. Duncan methodically searched the house from attic to basement and couldn’t find the woman. Out of frustration he finally pulled Emily away from the piano teacher who was discussing music selections for the girls as if the decisions were of the gravest importance.

  “I wasn’t done yet,” Emily protested.

  “You can go back in a second. Just tell me where Brigit is.”

  “Oh, Mama needed her.” Emily patted his arm reassuringly. “Da came by this morning and asked if Brigit couldn’t help out. According to him, Mama and Brigit had some last-minute details to do on a Christmas gift.”

  Duncan yanked on his coat and headed for the door. Goodhew nodded and opened the door as he murmured, “Happy hunting, Sir.”

  “Practically broke my knuckles, dragging her back to the main house, so where does she go? Back to the cottage,” Duncan muttered to himself. “The woman’s a thief after all. She’s robbed me of my sanity.”

  “She’s robbed you of your heart, if I might say so.”

  Duncan gave Goodhew an exasperated grin. “You may not say so—even if you are twice my age and a valued person to my family.”

  “Close to thrice your age.” Goodhew’s mouth and cheeks looked as impassive as his voice sounded, but his eyes sparkled with merriment.

  “I’m going to go talk some sense into my woman.”

  “You’re a better man than I am, Sir. I’ve been married thirty-five years and have yet to accomplish that feat, but it is good to hear you call Miss Brigit, your woman, Sir.”

  Duncan left without another word. He marched down the road to the caretaker’s cottage and noticed John had already managed to get the door replaced. Worried about Brigit when he kicked it in, Duncan hadn’t given a thought to the damage, so the whole thing lasted only one slim day after the scuffle ere it turned into kindling. The new one looked sturdy, but he didn’t bother to knock.

  “Well, what a lovely surprise!” His mother smiled up at him.

  Duncan glanced about and folded his arms akimbo. “Enough of you women conspiring against me. Where did you put her?”

  “I haven’t put anyone anywhere. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “I want Brigit. Em said she’s here, and I’m tired of this game. Where is she?”

  “Oh, Brigit was here this morning. She’s such a lovely girl—talented, too. Did you see the wondrous tablecloth she embroidered for the twins? A tea-party tablecloth, she called it. Said they—”

  “Mama, you can sing praises about Brigit’s talents another day. Tell me where she’s gone.”

  Da wandered in. “Why, didn’t you know? Em’s good about making sure her maids have days off, she is. Thoughtful. Little Brigit is thoughtful, too. Did your mama tell you—”

  “Where is Brigit?” Duncan didn’t want to be rude, but he’d lost what little patience he had.

  “The lass said this is her afternoon off.”

  Duncan headed out the door. Barely containing his frustration, he managed to shut instead of slam it—but only because he respected his parents so much. Tim wasn’t wrong one bit—I’m a man on a mission. He momentarily wished he’d ridden a horse and knew he could easily go to the stable to fetch one, but a walk would settle him down. In his present frame of mind, he’d likely scare the wits right out of Brigit. I’ve been operating under a grave misconception, and all it accomplished was to muddy the waters. Now that I’ve figured out the problem, I’m going to solve it—just as soon as I catch up with that woman.

  ❧

  “Brigit.”

  Brigit froze when she heard her name. She’d been holding Da’s arm, listening to him as they walked out of the ramshackle tenement building. Everything in her rebelled. She refused to turn.

  “Why, now who’s that hand
some lad callin’ out your name?” Da stepped forward a bit and took a good gander at Duncan.

  Oh, she’d stuck to her guns and not taken the slightest peep at who had spoken—but she’d know Duncan’s voice anywhere. “It’s cold out, Da. Let’s get going.”

  To her consternation, her father didn’t budge. Duncan did. He came on over and shook her father’s hand. “Duncan O’Brien, Sir. I’ll be wanting to speak with you about your daughter just as soon as I talk with her a bit.”

  Her father tapped the toe of his boot on the ground. “Oh, so that’s the way of it, is it?”

  Brigit finally looked up at Duncan. She glowered at him; he winked. “He’s a rascal, Da. Don’t waste your breath.”

  “Of course he’s a rascal. What with a fine Irish name like O’Brien, I’d have to expect as much. He can’t be all bad if he’s taking a liking to you.”

  “Da!”

  “I came to walk her home, Sir.”

  “Now there’s a fine man. Manners. Protective.” Da nodded approvingly. His eyes narrowed. “Just whose home?”

  “The Newcombs. Emily Newcomb is my sister.”

  Da’s chuckle made Brigit’s stomach churn. He gave her a bit of a squeeze. “This Duncan’s something, all right. Everyone knows John Newcomb owns the shipyard, and your young man’s standing here—”

  “He’s not my young man!”

  Her father tilted her face up to his and said softly, “I know you too well, Daughter. Your strong reaction tells me you hold some feelings for the man, and his presence here tells me plenty.”

  A scalding wave of embarrassment washed over her. “Da!”

  “From what I see, the pair of you need to settle a wee bit of a tiff.”

  “We’ll get things worked out, Mr. Murphy.” Duncan took hold of her other hand.

  She snatched it back.