“Anything else you’re needing, Sweet Katie? The moon, perhaps? A few stars? Just ask, and they’re yours.”
“All I need is for you to stick close by and keep me from panicking.”
Stick close by. And she thought this a favor she need beg of him? He’d already planned to do just that all night.
“I rather feel like I’m hosting a dignified visitor and desperately hoping he’ll like Ireland.” Katie shook her head, apparently finding her own explanation rather lacking. “This isn’t even Ireland, and Joseph’s a neighbor, not—” Again she shook her head. “I fear I’m not making a great deal of sense.”
He took her hand in his. He felt the effect of that simple touch clear to his heart. “It made perfect sense, darlin’.”
Color touched her cheeks. An encouraging sign, that.
Joseph Archer’s eyes had stopped darting about the crowd and settled, as near as Tavish could tell, on Katie’s hand entwined in his. Tavish hadn’t intended to make an overt statement of his intentions but thought it best that Joseph knew where things stood.
An uncomfortable silence settled over them all. Katie seemed particularly worried about the newest arrivals, but she didn’t make any move to pull her hand from his. Joseph kept his eyes off the two of them. Emma glanced about in heavy uncertainty.
Into the awkward moment came Finbarr. “Michael says I’m to come see you, Tavish.”
“Aye. There’s someone here I thought you’d like seeing.” He motioned in the little girl’s direction.
A grin split Finbarr’s face in an instant. “Why, Emma! Have you come to join our party?”
She nodded shyly, her countenance pale except for deep spots of color on either cheek.
Step in, Finbarr. Katie would be more at ease if she knew Emma was looked after.
“Would you like to come sit with my friends and me?” Finbarr offered. “The storytelling’s about to start. I think you’d enjoy hearing the tales.”
“May I, Papa?” She sounded near ready to beg.
Joseph gave Finbarr a stern look. “Are these stories proper?”
“They are, Mr. Archer. I promise you.”
“And you’ll keep an eye on her?”
Katie jumped into the questioning herself. “And won’t let her too near the fire?”
Tavish squeezed her fingers. He knew her history with fire and understood her caution.
“I promise you both,” Finbarr said. “I’d never let anything happen to Miss Emma. Not anything.”
“Please, Papa?”
Joseph gave her a brief smile and nodded.
Finbarr held his hand out to her. Emma’s eyes grew wide. Slowly, uncertainly, she slipped her small fingers into his larger hand. Tavish would have to remember to thank the lad after the céilí. He’d done a fine thing for Emma and Katie as well, whether he realized it or not.
Finbarr smiled at Katie. “Make sure one of these two asks you for a dance.”
Tavish grinned. There was another reason to thank Finbarr. Though Katie didn’t dance, and Tavish didn’t mean to ask her, he liked that the idea of it was planted in her mind.
“Maybe I’ll ask you for a dance,” Katie threw back. “What say you to that?”
“Not a chance of it.” Suddenly Finbarr had an Irish brogue as wide as their da’s. “I’ve a lass on me arm, in case ye hadn’t noted it. I mean to keep her there, not go dancin’ with the first strange woman what asks me.”
“Aye, get out of here, Finbarr, before this ‘strange woman’ belts you one.”
He laughed as he left, but before he moved far, his attention was back on Emma.
“A good lad, that one,” Katie said, watching him go.
“He is.” Tavish and Joseph spoke in almost perfect unison. He could see Joseph found it no more amusing than he did, though Katie seemed to enjoy it.
Ian stepped up to Joseph’s side. Tavish was glad to see him. Maybe his brother would take Joseph on a tour of the party. Tavish couldn’t seem to get so much as a moment or two alone with Katie.
“Good to see you here, Joseph,” Ian said.
“I hoped I would be allowed in even if I can’t say the name of the thing.”
Ian smiled broadly. “Speaking Gaelic isn’t necessary to attend.”
“That’s good.” Joseph shook his head. “I’m still working on saying Macauley.”
Ian winced, eliciting a laugh from Katie. She didn’t laugh often enough. Hearing her do so had become something of a life goal of Tavish’s.
“Be certain to have yourself a bit of the black pudding Mrs. O’Connor set out,” Katie said. “And Liam Desmond brought cider everyone has been raving about.”
“Cider and black pudding.” Joseph looked at least a little interested. “I can honestly say I’ve never had that particular meal.”
“We’ll have you eating like an Irishman in no time, you’ll see.”
Tavish rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. He’d done just that during the last céilí they’d attended together. She had let him hold her hand for a while during the storytelling. The simple touch eased his growing concern over Joseph Archer. Katie wouldn’t allow it if she were truly interested in someone else. Would she?
“Pompah! Pompah!” Ivy rushed to her father’s side, a generous bit of powdered sugar on her face. “They have cookies. Can I have a cookie?”
“May I have a cookie?” he gently corrected.
Her face twisted in confusion. “If you want one.”
Katie laughed at that, bringing Joseph’s eyes back to her again. Tavish kept hold of her hand, all the while feeling like an idiot for being jealous. Katie hadn’t shown an attachment to Joseph. Why, then, was he so convinced he had competition?
“I think you’d best take the girl for a biscuit,” Katie said. “I know how fond your daughters are of them.”
Ivy pulled her father to the sweets table. Katie looked toward the fire.
“We don’t have to sit near the flames if you’d rather not,” Tavish assured her.
She shook her head. “I was actually searching for Emma, though I know Finbarr will take care of her. I worry, is all.”
Tavish slipped her arm through his. He walked with her toward the back row of benches. “What are the chances, do you think, of Seamus telling his ‘a lad and a lass were out walking’ story?”
A twinkle lit her eyes. “No chances about it. I’ve heard that tale every week since I arrived.”
A commotion back by the house pulled both their attention in that direction. People were rushing about, their voices raised.
“What in the blazes? Wait here a moment, Katie.”
She flung a look of annoyed defiance. “Why would I do that? If there’s trouble, I’d rather help than sit about wringing my hands.”
He’d moved no more than a few paces toward the growing crowd when he heard the sound of a horse crying out. They weren’t near the barn. ’Twas odd for the animal to be anywhere near the back door of the house.
He caught sight of the bucking and jumping creature, and his mind froze.
“That’s your horse, Tavish,” Katie said.
It was, indeed. “But I walked here. Ériu was in her stall in my barn.”
Tavish pushed his way through the crowd. He pieced the mystery together quickly. ’Twasn’t the first time an animal had found its way down the Irish Road during a céilí. The Red Road had long since adopted it as a preferred bit of mischief. He couldn’t say, though, just what had his very even-tempered mare so skittish.
“Tavish.” Katie sounded worried.
“We’ll get her back home, don’t you fret.”
She shook her head frantically. “No, Tavish. Something’s happened to her tail.”
He snapped his head back to look. Ériu’s tail was but a stub.
“You don’t suppose it’s been docked, do you?” Katie kept up with his rushed pace.
He couldn’t even answer. If the Red Road had burst into his barn and maimed his animal,
he’d have real difficulty not going after them all himself. The O’Connors had always been the peacemakers on the Irish Road. But to hurt an animal—he couldn’t abide that. Especially not a gentle creature like Ériu.
Tavish placed himself between his frantic horse and the crowd. He tried talking to her, but doubted Ériu could hear him over the other voices. Ian and Da were doing their level best to get everyone back. Until the animal calmed, distance was best.
Tavish checked to make certain Katie hadn’t come too close. Saints, if she were hurt . . .
Michael rushed to his side, a rope in hand.
Katie hurried toward them. “Michael, don’t get too close.” She tried to make herself a shield between the lad and the horse.
Tavish set a hand on her shoulder, all the while keeping an eye on his horse. “Michael is better with my horse even than I am.” He spoke swift and firm, easing her backward. “But you, Katie, are making me nervous.”
“Me?”
“You’re putting yourself in danger.”
Michael slipped around the barricade Katie had made of herself. He’d tied the rope into a makeshift bridle. Tavish kept Katie on his other side, but he couldn’t watch her and Ériu at the same time.
Where’s Biddy? He found Joseph Archer first.
“Joseph,” he called out. The time had come for setting aside rivalries. Katie’s well-being was on the line.
Joseph moved quickly through the crowd, eyes darting between the horse and him. “Has the tail been cut off fully?”
“I don’t know.” He nudged Katie toward Joseph. “But this lass here’s determined to get herself trampled. Keep her back, will you?”
Joseph nodded. Though Tavish wasn’t keen on leaving her in his hands, he had to see to his horse. And Katie’s stubbornness was legendary enough to make him wonder if she’d step away on her own.
He and Michael took a full half hour, calming and roping the horse. While Michael spoke to Ériu, Tavish checked her close. Ériu had what looked like rope burns on her neck and hind quarters, no doubt from being held captive while her tail was assaulted. He cursed long and expertly before turning his attention to the animal’s tail.
Let it just be the hair. Just the hair.
“Is it docked, Uncle Tavish?”
He set a gentle hand on Ériu and forced himself to look closely at the remains of her once long, thick tail. He pushed out a breath. “They’ve only cut the hair.”
Michael nodded and rubbed at the horse’s nose. “Still, she’ll be miserable without a tail to swat the flies.”
Something the Red Road knew well. The act was one of warning, a reminder that they could do worse.
The céilí had broken up. Everyone had left, no doubt to check their own animals. The Irish had lost animals over the years, either set loose in the middle of the night or, as had happened the last time the feud heated up, shot right in their own barns.
“Help me get her back to the barn,” he said to Michael. If he concentrated on the horse, perhaps he’d keep himself from storming down the Red Road himself.
Michael led the horse with all the skill of a born horseman. Tavish kept at Ériu’s side, just breathing in and out and telling himself to stay calm. Pounding any Red Roader he could find would hardly keep the peace, though it might do his anger a bit of good.
Da stood at the roadside. Tavish knew the look of simmering tension in his father’s face. He likely wore the same one.
“Go home, Tavish,” Da said. “Sleep this off. We’ll have enough tempers to calm on this road without yours being tossed into the mix.”
“You really think we can keep Kelly and those of a mind with him from retaliating?”
Da only shook his head. “We’ve a fight coming, son. Without a miracle of some kind, we’ve a fight coming.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“This is one point on which your stubbornness will not outlast my determination.” Joseph stood at the back door, blocking Katie’s path out.
She was thoroughly put out with him.
“If you’re wanting to eat tonight, Joseph Archer, I suggest you get out of my way. I’ve deliveries to make, and time is tight.” She glared at him, an oversized basket of loaves propped on her hip. “Now quit fussing like a granny and let me go make my deliveries.”
“Not on your life.”
“Joseph.” She muttered his name in complete frustration.
He didn’t budge. “You will not be going out alone, Katie. Not even just down the Irish Road. The Reds crossed that border when they cut the tail of Tavish’s horse.” He set his jaw. “And they are already upset with you.”
Katie knew all that. She was well aware her presence had started this latest feuding. Being stared at for nearly a month certainly kept her situation fresh in her mind.
Joseph took her basket from her.
“You won’t be stopping me from going,” she warned him. Katie’d known the moment she left the céilí that giving up on her Irish neighbors was not an option she would consider. The enormity of what they were trying to stand up under had finally begun to sink in.
“I know.” He set the basket on the table and turned to face her. “All I am asking is that you wait until I am done for the day so I can go with you.”
That wouldn’t do. “They know I make deliveries in the afternoon. Pushing that back will convince them I’m scared.”
“You should be scared, Katie. Cautious at the very least.”
She paced to the sink. She’d been tense all Sunday and through laundry the day before. Being outdoors, knowing someone nearby had attacked an innocent animal and that same person was likely among the crowd who stared at her, made for a long and worrisome day. But her neighbors, for better or for worse, looked to her as something of an example of strength. She had to live up to that.
“I’m the first Irish to cross that bridge, Joseph. I’ve lived off the Irish Road. I’ve started my own business, one that doesn’t depend on the Red Road.” She didn’t know how to make him understand what that meant. “I saw something on the faces of my neighbors on Saturday. I don’t mean fear or worry. I saw defeat, Joseph. Things’ve hardly begun to get bad, from all the whispers I’ve heard, and they already know they can’t win.”
Biddy had made her out as some kind of battle banner. But Katie hadn’t understood until the céilí. The Irish needed at least one person, one instance in which they weren’t the ones defeated.
Joseph moved to where she stood at the sink. “I don’t want you giving up, Katie. I don’t want the Irish losing the hope you have given them. But there is no way on God’s green earth I am letting you walk out that door alone.”
There was no mistaking his inflexible tone. Behind it Katie heard real concern.
“I suspect you know something you’re not telling me.”
He rolled his shoulders, taking a tense breath. “The mercantile has noticed a drop in sales. Johnson has tracked that to fewer Irish buying basic things like flour and sugar and—”
“Baking ingredients.” Katie knew what Joseph was getting at. “So Mr. Johnson is angry with me because he doesn’t dare sell you those things at the ‘Irish price,’ but the Irish aren’t buying because they can get their bread from me at a better price.”
He nodded slowly, with emphasis. “And he is not happy about it.”
“You think he’ll come after me?” Her heart thudded.
“The fact that I cannot guarantee he won’t is reason enough to ask you to wait until someone can go out with you.”
He’d given her pause. But she didn’t want the Irish to feel they’d lost already. She needed to make her deliveries on her usual schedule. “Tuesday is Biddy’s laundry day, so she can’t go about with me.”
Joseph didn’t grant her reprieve at that. “The O’Connors’ youngest daughter, perhaps?”
“She is helping Tavish make preserves today.”
He nodded. “So Tavish won’t be available, either.”
“No.”
>
Joseph rubbed at his mouth and chin. “What about Finbarr? I realize he’s only sixteen, but he would be one more person, one more set of eyes.”
“You don’t need him here?”
“I do. But I need him with you more.”
Katie laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you for that, Joseph.”
He set his hand on hers. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Make some kind of arrangements for your next deliveries.”
They stood there a moment, his hand pressed to hers. “I am sorry so much about Hope Springs has disappointed you,” he said.
“Not disappointed.” She found she meant it. “Life is different here from what I expected, but I’m happy here. And I haven’t been happy in a very long time.”
He gave her fingers a squeeze before stepping away. To her surprise, she missed having him there. He didn’t make her heart jump about in the way Tavish did. He didn’t draw an immediate smile from her, nor fill her with warmth at the very sight of him. But she missed his company almost the moment he walked away.
Joseph took up her basket of bread. “Let’s go track down Finbarr.”
She followed him out, wondering all the while what her different reactions to the men meant. Did Tavish tug at her more because she cared for him more? Perhaps. But then, what did she know of such things?
They reached the barn. Finbarr was inside. Joseph said nothing beyond “Will you help Katie make her deliveries?” Finbarr agreed without a moment’s hesitation.
Joseph handed the basket over to Finbarr. “Keep a weather eye out.”
“I will.” Finbarr was not fazed in the least by his employer’s heavy tone. He carried her basket out of the barn.
“I thank you again for sending Finbarr with me,” Katie said, staying back a moment.
“You’re welcome.” His tone was more than a touch distracted, though his attention seemed fully on her.
She stepped to the door.
“Katie?”
“Yes?”
He didn’t move closer to her, but neither had he looked away. “I’m glad you’ve been happy here.”
“Glad enough to let me stay on?” she asked.
Longing for Home: A Proper Romance Page 29
