Longing for Home: A Proper Romance

by Eden, Sarah M.

  “I am sorry too,” he muttered again. “More sorry than you probably know.”

  Katie couldn’t make sense of the past few minutes. What employer went haring off after a servant he’d fired? Fired twice.

  “Well now, Sweet Katie, this is a first.” Tavish stood at the mantle, near enough to be easily heard. “I can’t say I’ve ever known Joseph Archer to chase after anyone in a rainstorm.”

  Katie wrapped her arms around her middle. “It is odd, is it not?”

  “Very odd.” Tavish didn’t look away from the door Joseph Archer had walked out. His eyes narrowed, mouth twisted a bit.

  “Should I be worried? Do you think he’ll hold it against me?”

  That pulled his eyes back to her. “No. I’m only worried about Ian.”

  “Ian?”

  Tavish shook his head and sighed. “Poor man drove the Archer girls home in the rain, and no one came running after him. He must feel mighty neglected. He’ll likely cry himself to sleep tonight.”

  “You’re teasing again?” Katie had very little experience with someone who joked about everything.

  Amusement shown in his eyes. “Would I tease about something so vital as my own brother weeping into his pillow?”

  “I’ve a feeling you would and have.” She eyed him knowingly.

  “Do you consider that a character failing?”

  Katie didn’t know what to think of him. She didn’t entirely trust him. How could she when she couldn’t take seriously anything he said or did?

  “I guess I know by the look on your face just what you think of me.” For the first time since he’d met her, Tavish actually looked a bit offended. “You mean to present me a challenge, do you?” He stood straighter, shifting away from the mantle and closer to her. “I accept.”

  “I’d rather you just leave me alone.”

  A little voice called down from the loft above. “Have Mr. Archer and the gypsy lady finished their arguing, Ma, or do we need to stay up here longer?”

  Ian and Biddy burst out laughing. Tavish was still looking at Katie. Had she actually offended him? Or did he think of her exactly as he’d said, as a challenge?

  Katie pulled the blanket more tightly around herself as she sat once more in the seat she’d occupied before Mr. Archer’s arrival. She refused to look up at Tavish. Did he truly mean to try and force her to like him, to trust him? She couldn’t be the least comfortable with that idea.

  Mr. Archer’s visit had upended her too. Though he’d remained calm, she knew he was angry. She’d endured enough beatings, both physical and verbal, to know they always began with anger. Mr. Archer seemed a calm enough person. If she kept out of his way for as long as she remained in town, she might not find herself in trouble.

  “I hope I don’t sound as though I’m becoming too familiar,” Biddy said, crossing to Katie’s chair. “But I noticed Tavish and Joseph both called you Katie.”

  “I rather begged Mr. Archer to call me Katie after hearing how terribly he butchered my name.”

  “Saints above.” Biddy looked tempted to cross herself. “The one time he took a stab at saying Macauley just now, I near died at how horrible it was.”

  “He’d apparently been saying it wrong to himself since my first telegram. He didn’t even realize the name was Irish until I started talking.”

  Biddy laughed. Katie very nearly smiled herself.

  “Joseph’s pronunciation aside, do you prefer Miss Macauley or is Katie more to your liking?”

  That was hardly a question worth asking. “Katie, to be sure. I’ve never been important enough to be called anything so formal as Miss Anything.”

  Biddy watched her a moment. Katie couldn’t say just what Biddy was thinking, only that she was most definitely thinking.

  “You’re most welcome to sit with us at the table, Katie. But if you’d prefer sitting here where it’s warmer, we’d not begrudge you that after the soaking you’ve had.”

  Katie only nodded. She would, indeed, prefer staying where she was, though not entirely on account of the warmth. She meant to keep a distance. From Tavish. From Joseph Archer. From everyone, just as she always had.

  Chapter Nine

  Katie had her own clothes on once more and those things she’d borrowed neatly folded by the time the O’Connors were up and about the next morning. She’d never been one for lying abed when there was a difficulty needing attending.

  The family’s routine was flawless. Each had a job and did it. Katie had thought she could find a way to help, but there seemed no need for her.

  If she’d learned anything in life, ’twas that no one wanted a person hanging about who served no purpose. She took up her woolen shawl, dry after a night spent laid out near the low-burning fire, and wrapped it around her shoulders once more. Carpetbag in hand, she slipped out the front door, careful not to disrupt the family’s work.

  Tavish had told her the afternoon before that everyone in Hope Springs knew Joseph Archer. If everyone knew him, it stood to reason he knew everyone else. She didn’t relish the idea of asking the same man who’d twice fired her if he knew of other jobs she might go seeking. Doing so, however, seemed her only course of action.

  There was a saying she’d heard again and again in Ireland. “’Tis the humblest among us who can least afford to be proud.”

  A light shone through the Archers’ dingy kitchen window as she made her way across the back porch. The family was awake at least. She steeled her courage and knocked. A long moment passed as she waited. She could hear movement just on the other side of the door.

  Just as she made to knock again, the door opened. A harried-looking Mr. Archer stood in the doorway.

  “I don’t have time to talk, Miss Macauley.”

  “I’ve come for my fiddle is all,” she answered. “I’ve no intention of disrupting your day.”

  He nodded quickly. “You’ll find it in the same place it was last night.” Mr. Archer turned back inside with no further comment, leaving the door ajar.

  Katie stepped into the room, fully intending to be in and out quickly. But the chaos that met her eyes slowed her steps. She’d made some progress the evening before, clearing the table a bit, uncovering a space near the sink. It had all been undone in one night. What had the family been doing to make a mess so quickly?

  Mr. Archer stood at the stove, adding kindling to the firebox. Pans and pots sat ready to be used, though nothing filled them. Biddy O’Connor had been nearly finished preparing their morning meal when Katie had left. Mr. Archer was only beginning his.

  He might not want her about, but even a blind man could see he needed her.

  She heard him mutter a word not many would say out loud. It seemed he’d already forgotten her there.

  He opened and closed cupboards all around the kitchen, doing so with less patience as he went.

  “Might I help you find something, Mr. Archer?” Katie asked.

  He shook his head and continued searching.

  “Are you certain? I took a good look about when I was here last evening. I might know where to find whatever it is you’ve misplaced.”

  “I haven’t misplaced anything.” He stood in the middle of the kitchen, brow deeply furrowed, looking about in obvious confusion. “I was only hoping to find a spare wooden spoon.”

  “You’ve lost your . . . wooden spoon?”

  He shook his head. “I know where it is. I just don’t want to wash it.”

  So many things became clear with that one sentence: the piles of dirtied dishes, the general state of filthiness, windows that looked as though they’d not been washed in months. She’d wondered how Mr. Archer had managed to make such a mess. If he regularly sought out a second spoon or pot rather than wash the one already out, he’d have quite a pile in no time at all. Perhaps he took the same approach to clothing and such.

  “You don’t care to wash your dishes, then?” Rather like a man, that.

  “I don’t have time. I still need to wake the girls
, but I haven’t finished their breakfast. Biddy will be expecting them soon.” He pushed out a tight breath. Poor man looked done in, and the morning had only just begun.

  “You go get your girls up and ready for the day. I’ll see to your breakfast.”

  He was shaking his head before she’d finished her first sentence. “You don’t work for me any longer, Miss Macauley.”

  “I far prefer being called Katie, and I’d consider it a kindness if you did so.” She spoke with all the firmness she could muster. She’d quickly grown tired that morning of being useless to everyone. Here was something she might do, and someone who needed her, whether he was willing to admit it or not. “I’ve nowhere to be and no jobs of my own to see to at the moment.”

  He didn’t give over in the least.

  “I’d not be expecting pay, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  She set her carpetbag on the floor beside her fiddle. Mr. Archer would concede on the matter of breakfast if she had any say in the matter. Katie seldom felt needed, but when she did, she clung to it.

  She crossed to the sink and dug about until she found the very thing Mr. Archer searched for. Holding it up for him to see, she said, “I’ll have your breakfast ready in only a few moments. You’d best get your girls up and about.”

  “Miss—”

  “Katie. And I’ll have no arguing on the matter of breakfast. Unless, that is, you were displeased with the meal I prepared last night.”

  He shook his head. “It was the most edible thing we’ve had in this house for half a year.”

  Katie knew a moment of satisfaction at that. She might have known nothing of tending children, but she could certainly cook a meal. “Then I suggest you accept my offer graciously and see to your girls.”

  He hesitated. Katie fancied she could see in his expression the argument he waged with himself. ’Twould be a kindness if she simply forced his hand.

  She moved enough dirtied dishes away from the water pump to slip the wooden spoon under it. She didn’t look back at her one-time employer as she set to her scrubbing. Perhaps he’d see by the determined set of her shoulders that she’d quite made up her mind.

  A silent moment passed before his sigh gave away his acceptance of her offer. “Thank you, Katie.”

  His gratitude threw her off a moment. She was unaccustomed to being thanked for the work she did. “You’re welcome.” Did he hear the uncertainty in her voice as clearly as she did?

  He didn’t comment on it but made his way back out of the kitchen. She set to work near frantically. How terribly incompetent she’d looked the night before. Though her dismissal was a decided thing, Katie wished to prove herself not entirely useless.

  She found leftover soda bread from the evening meal and sliced it thin and even. Mr. Archer had already set out a small bowl of eggs and strips of bacon. Katie cooked up both, then browned the bread in the bacon drippings. ’Twas only one half of a true Ulster fry but would make a fine breakfast. The sounds of movement upstairs accompanied her efforts. The family would be down soon.

  Katie pulled three clean plates from a cupboard—the last plates there. Mr. Archer, despite his preference otherwise, would have to wash dishes at some point.

  She did as she had the night before, clearing half the table by piling its contents on the other half. ’Twas somewhere between setting out the plates and placing forks beside them that the idea niggling in the back of her mind began to grow and blossom at a surprising pace.

  She’d first heard of the housekeeping position some two months earlier. Even with the speed of the telegraph, these things took time. Mr. Archer couldn’t have a replacement in Hope Springs in any fewer than eight weeks.

  Her only shortcoming for the job was her inexperience with children. She could see to all the rest, see to it well, in fact. Biddy had readily accepted the girls coming by, quite as though she’d done so before.

  Life had taught Katie to know perfectly well the arrival of an opportunity. She might be able to talk Mr. Archer into giving her work after all.

  The table was neatly set by the time the girls and their father came down. Katie had the food ready and waiting for them. Mr. Archer’s oldest, Emma, watched Katie with obvious distrust. Ivy, the little one, didn’t look away from the eggs and bacon long enough to notice much else.

  “It looks like real food,” Ivy said under her breath to her sister.

  “Katie was good enough to cook it.” Mr. Archer pulled a chair out for little Ivy, helping her climb up. “You need to thank her for that.”

  They both offered a thank-you in near-perfect unison.

  Mr. Archer looked over at her as well. “Thank you.” The words were spoken with relief so thick Katie fancied she could see it hovering in the air around them.

  Though she hated the thought of taking advantage of the poor man’s desperation, she found a measure of reassurance in his sincere gratitude.

  With the girls eating, the time seemed best for talking with him. If nothing else, he could ponder her suggestion over his meal, a fine edible meal she doubted he could produce on his own.

  “Mr. Archer? Might I ask you a quick question?”

  He turned to his girls. “You two eat, now. We’re already late leaving for the O’Connors’.”

  The little ones tucked into their meal in earnest. Mr. Archer motioned Katie once more onto the back porch. She was not generally a superstitious person, but having been fired on that very spot once already, Katie couldn’t help thinking her chances were dwindling.

  “I’ll not keep you long from your morning meal,” she assured him. “I’ve had a thought I wanted to pass by you and see what your opinion was on it.”

  “Go ahead.” Whether he was curious or wary, Katie couldn’t rightly say.

  “I noticed you’ve more to do than you’ve time to do it in.” She told herself not to lose her courage entirely, as it seemed to be abandoning her in spades. “You said yesterday you mean to search out a replacement as I’m not quite what you had in mind. But, as you’re needing someone until you find a replacement, I’d like to suggest you keep me on for a time. I can certainly put your house to rights and keep it that way until a new housekeeper arrives. ’Twould be a temporary arrangement only.”

  He shook his head immediately. “The girls—”

  “I thought they might go to the O’Connors’,” she added before he had a chance to fully reject her idea. “You meant for them to go there today, as I suspect they have before.”

  He turned to face her more fully, leaning his back against the closed door. “I am to pay you the enormous salary I promised so that you can do only half the job I hired you to do? Does this reduced work load still come with room and board?”

  His tone was not promising in the least. Yet, he’d hit upon another of her pressing worries.

  “I realize there’d be a reduction in pay. Likely in hours, too. Though—” She took a fortifying breath. Begging for consideration never came easily to her. “I haven’t a place to live just now, so if it were possible to rent the housekeeper’s room, only until you have need of it otherwise, I’d be appreciative.”

  She watched his expression change from thoroughly unconvinced to thoughtful. That, Katie told herself, was a good sign. He wasn’t dismissing her out of hand.

  “I could work here mornings and evenings, and a full day on Mondays for laundering,” Katie said. She’d need the afternoons to search out other work. As she’d told Mr. Archer, this position was decidedly temporary, more so even than her sojourn in the town itself.

  He mulled that over a moment. Katie held her breath.

  “I’ll pay you ten dollars and two bits a month, with the room and meals included,” he finally said.

  Ten dollars and two bits. Katie’s heart stopped. She’d figured her salary at the rate Mr. Archer had written her. She would have been paid nearly twenty-one dollars a month.

  “That is half the pay,” Katie said quietly. She didn’t mean to complain; th
e loss simply came as a shock. She’d depended on that salary to finish filling up her savings.

  “You will have half the duties,” Mr. Archer pointed out. “And half the hours.”

  “I understand. The salary is more than fair.” And ’twas a far sight better than no salary at all. “I accept.”

  “Let us be clear, though, this is only until the new housekeeper arrives,” he said. “And only if the O’Connors agree to continue taking the girls every day.”

  “Yes, Mr. Archer.”

  He gave a quick nod of his head and turned once more to go.

  “One more thing, sir—that is, Mr. Archer.” She doubted she’d ever grow accustomed to leaving off the usual sir. “As for the rest of the salary you would have paid had I been charged with the girls’ care?”

  “Yes?” The suspicion had returned to his tone.

  “Seeing as Biddy would be taking on that work, assuming she accepts, I thought perhaps she might take the portion of the salary I’m no longer earning.”

  His brows pulled together. Clearly he hadn’t thought of that. “I’m not sure the O’Connors would accept payment for what they see as being neighborly.”

  “Perhaps not.” She hoped he’d offer and hoped they’d accept. The O’Connors were far from wealthy, and the money would be helpful.

  “Hmm.” He looked reluctantly impressed. “That is very good of you. I’ll offer and hope their Irish pride doesn’t prevent them from taking me up on it.”

  “I thank you, Joseph Archer.”

  He left. Katie let out the breath she’d been holding. She had a job and free afternoons to fill with whatever other work she might find around town. ’Twas something of a promising beginning.

  Chapter Ten

  Tavish stood among his crops, eyes cast out over the lake at the back of his property and the distant mountains rising behind it. He had the best view in all of Hope Springs. The sky above was vast and clear. Yet, his thoughts weren’t of the blue expanse above him but of the haunting beauty of a pair of deep brown eyes and the unexpected appeal of a stubborn and determined woman. He’d known Katie Macauley all of three days and had spent not more than a few hours in her company, yet he found himself thinking about her in the oddest moments.