“I don’t know if I could do that, Tanté.” Sarah stared at the ceiling. “That is a lot to forgive. What if she had killed you? You wouldn’t be here, nor Joseph, nor…”
Louise was not surprised by Sarah’s feelings for her son. “But she did not kill me, dear heart. And she could not have, unless God allowed it. That is the same for what Christopher Dougherty spewed. Unless God allows it, it is only empty words. Our Lord has well protected us thus far, and He will continue. Things have not always been easy, but we have always been in His hand.”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“I take that as a compliment. She is one of my dearest friends and quite wise.” Louise smiled and patted Sarah’s hand. “It could be Christopher will stir up trouble. Or maybe nothing will come of his words. Still, whatever the outcome, ‘Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.’ It is the best plan I know.”
And with that, she stood, kissed Sarah on both cheeks and left the girl to ponder.
* * *
The latch sounded as it securely snapped into place.
Antoine, engrossed in his thoughts, searching for a reference among his library, jumped at the metallic thud, scattering papers over his desk and floor. He peered up to see Joseph and James’s concerned expressions.
“The Combers are back.” All three spoke in unison.
“You know?” Both young men approached the desk as though magnetically drawn.
“Thomas heard through his contact. I did not tell the rest of the group today, but this time, I think they may be receiving help from the English. Thomas would not have been told that. It is only a hunch on my part.”
Disbelief showed in his sons’ faces. “I thought the English had rid us of that scourge. Now you think they are in league?”
Joseph mutely shook his head.
“The last thing England wants is a united Ireland. The easiest way they’ve had to keep us apart is with our differences. Religious differences. But when we stand firm together as believers in Christ, we become fearsome to those in authority.” Antoine could see his sons grasped the implication.
“So, they use the Combers to punish anyone who forgets his place.”
“Yes, Joseph. It seems word of our meetings has made someone in high places nervous. Now he wants to make us nervous. Enough to stop us.”
Antoine remembered the stunned looks when Thomas shared his news at the meeting. Even now, the name Combers sent shivers up Antoine's spine. He had seen the aftermath of their work more than once. Terrifying, especially for the women, children, and elderly. The Combers left scars inside and out.
He had no fears for himself. As a soldier, he had fought many battles. But now he was a husband and father. This would be a different type of battle—more reminiscent of when he, Louise, and newborn Gabriel escaped from France. Instead of running, though, here he would stand. Stand and fight, if need be.
The expression on Joseph’s face mirrored his own thoughts. And no wonder. Joseph, though younger than James, understood life as a father. “My sons, let’s take this before the Lord. We don’t know the depth or width of this fight, but He does and will guide us.”
James shook his head. “Father, there are times for prayers and times for action. We need to take action, now.”
“You’re right, James. We do need to take action. However, never think of praying as standing idle. We have no concrete knowledge other than a slip of the tongue here and there. We need something more. Until then, I will pray. I will ask for the insight and guidance needed to keep us safe and allow us to be witnesses to those without faith. I will keep my eyes and ears open to His leading.”
Joseph remained quiet throughout the exchange. James always had been the more vocal of the two, but this was especially quiet, even for Joseph.
“We can go roust Christopher Dougherty, see what he does know.” James paced as he threw out ideas. “We could make him tell where he got his information.”
“I’ve raised you better than that, son. No, you will leave Dougherty alone.”
“But—”
“No buts. Our help is not in our own might. Remember Who is in control. We will follow what He has to say.”
Joseph’s gaze met his. “What if He remains silent. Would we simply lay down our weapons and allow the Combers victory?” Though softly spoken, Joseph’s words were filled with emotion.
“No, son. We will not allow the Combers to do as they wish. But our hope is in God, and that is where we begin. Let us pray, now.”
Antoine realized they bowed their heads out of respect but did not know if it was out of respect for their father, or their God.
Oh, Abba, let it be for You.
Chapter Eleven
I’m going to look in on my son.” Joseph nodded toward the stairs.
“I think I’ll join you.” James grinned, taking the steps two at a time, and making a beeline for the room at the top of the steps.
Joseph gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. Did the Widow return James’s interest?
In the nursery, the little one lay cozy in Shannon’s arms while she rocked him, humming a lullaby. Joseph watched little eyes valiantly trying to remain open, but finally succumbing to sleep.
Shannon whispered to them in cadence with her song. “I think I left Samuel’s toy in the basket with the food. If you can take Wee Joseph, I will run downstairs and fetch it.”
“I’ll go.” James to the rescue.
“Sh-h-h.” Shannon and Joseph corrected at the same time.
“I’ll go.” This time James whispered and left.
“Oh, Master Joseph, I noticed something when I was changin’ the babe. Let me show ye.”
Both heads were bent over the baby while Shannon lifted the skirt of his gown to reveal a couple insect bites on Wee Joseph’s chubby little calves. Joseph heard the door open, expecting James to bring the beloved toy to Shannon, but he heard no one enter.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Sarah’s fleeting form heading down the hall. A nice view. The front view was nicer though. He couldn’t believe the thought flitted through his mind. But the impression lingered as he watched over his shoulder.
“She’s in love with ye, y’know.”
“Who?”
Shannon nodded toward the open door.
“Sarah? I don’t think so.”
Shannon took on a patronizing look. “Men. Unless we women write it out in blood, ye never seem to catch a clue. Aye, Miss Sarah’s in love with ye, and I’m supposin’ she has been for a long time.”
“Are you sure?” He followed her. “What has she said?”
The Widow wagged her finger at him. “Master Joseph, ye sound like an old gossip, ye do. A woman understands these things about another woman. And this woman says Miss Sarah’s in love with ye.”
Joseph shook his head. “No, she’s just a good friend.”
“I’m sure she is, but… if ye don’t mind my askin’, what are yer feelings for her?”
He didn’t want to answer that question. He knew he should say he still loved his wife. And that was true. He knew he had deep feelings for Sarah too.
Deep feelings? That was mildly put. He had loved her his whole life. Not being able to be together had been his first great heartache. Today they had friendship and sharing. But love? Could he ever admit that?
“I don’t know.” The sound of his voice made him feel the lie. Catching Shannon’s gaze, he lied again. “I don’t know.”
“If I may be so free, perhaps ye should be figurin’ that out. If yer in love with her, she needs to know. And if yer not, to be fair, she needs to know that too.”
“The Widow’s right.” James voice startled Joseph. “You need to decide how you feel and tell her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Shannon placed her gentle hand on his arm. “Speak what’s in yer heart, Master Joseph. Speak what’s in yer heart.”
Joseph sadly shook his head. He’d placed such a lock over his heart, it would be dangerous to let any of the feelings out.
A danger he could ill afford.
* * *
During the supper hour, most of the men who frequented The Stray Dog returned home. Some would come again after eating for a drink or two before going home to bed. But for now, only one or two customers remained. Cullen O’Keefe decided he could leave his wife to care for their needs while he ran a brief errand.
If he hurried, he could be back in less than half an hour and no one would be the wiser. The longer summer days meant twilight came later, but with care, he wouldn’t be seen.
Sticking close to tree-lined areas, Cullen made his way to the two-story house and circled around to the back. Little there afforded a shield, so he hoped someone would quickly answer his knock.
“No need help now. Return on morrow.” The old woman with the thick French accent tried to close the door.
Collin stuck his foot in the way. “I need to be speakin’ with the master o’ the house, if ye please.” Cullen pulled his hat from his head and anxiously kneaded it in his hands.
“Too late. Le morrow.”
“It canna wait, mum. Please, tell the master tis O’Keefe here. He’ll ken.” He hoped the urgency in his voice convinced her.
“Wait.”
She began to close the door, but he kept his foot in the path.
“Please, might I wait inside?”
She inspected him up and down and turned her nose up. “No. You wait here. I get Monsieur.”
“I’ll wait here, but hurry.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, looking for a more shadowed position. He brought important news but dare not stay away from the shebeen long. And he didn’t dare get caught between there and here. The more he worried, the more his lips puckered in and out.
“O’Keefe. Get in here.” Master Crockett, napkin in hand, held the door for him, glanced cautiously about and closed the door securely. “You’ve heard something. Out with it, man.”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, fer botherin’ ye like this, but ye said to bring any news I might learn.”
Antoine nodded, motioning to continue.
“I don’t have anythin’ for sure, but I did hear Kevin O’Rourke hushin’ Christopher Dougherty for speakin’ freely of the Combers. O’Rourke made like it was some joke, but I could see his concern about the mention. I’ve been listenin’ for more, but today were the first anyone even spoke of the cursed lot. As for now, I’d keep a watch on Christopher Dougherty an’ Kevin O’Rourke. I’m thinkin’ O’Rourke is up to his eyeballs in this, but Dougherty may know more an’ is stupid enough to slip an’ say somethin’.”
“Thank you, O’Keefe. You’re a good man and I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” He took out two gold pieces.
“No thank ye, sir. I hate those Combers worse’n ye. I remember them from afore. But I do need to get back to me misses.” He replaced his hat and shook hands with Master Crockett.
The master opened the door. “I will be praying your help does not cause you trouble. Again, thank you, O’Keefe.”
Cullen tipped his soiled hat and hurried off in hopes of learning more. And in hopes of not getting caught.
* * *
Antoine returned to the dinner table. “James, Joseph, Robert, come with me. Excuse us, my love.” He caught Louise’s hand and squeezed. Her nod said she understood. He motioned for his sons to follow and headed to the office without looking back.
“Close the door.”
“Father, what have you learned? Who was that at the door?” All three spoke at once.
Antoine raised his hand. “That was O’Keefe. He has nothing more substantial than what we already know, except another name to watch. He suggests we keep an eye on Christopher Dougherty and Kevin O’Rourke. He thinks O’Rourke is the one who knows the most, is most likely involved. But he believes Dougherty may be key, knowing more than he thinks and might be willing to talk.”
“Then let’s go talk with him now.” James appeared like Antoine felt—ready to drag Dougherty back to thoroughly question him.
“Son, as I told you before, you are not to go near him. As stupid as you may think he is, Dougherty isn’t so daft as to let you push him around without causing trouble.”
“So, what do you want us to do?” Robert returned Antoine’s gaze. “What is your plan?”
“This needs to come from our committee. It will be a show of strength and solidarity. Plus, Dougherty will feel more like cooperating if he sees others of his faith in the group.”
Antoine heard James’s quiet snort but continued. “I want you to beware. Remain cautious. Keep a sidearm close at all times. Do not go anywhere without another. Make sure someone is with the women anytime they leave the house. We do not know in what way the Combers may attack, but for sure, we have more strength in numbers.”
Antoine watched as his sons nodded and left, knowing they were not satisfied. Especially James. He could feel in his heart something big was just under the surface, ready to erupt. His gut told him James could end up in the middle. His gut was rarely wrong.
* * *
James left the study and took to the stairs. He found Shannon on the floor playing with Samuel. She wore her sandy brown hair pulled back with a ribbon, the curled ends dangling over her shoulder. Her laugh lilted like music.
He drank in the scene. This is what he needed. Just watching the Widow O’Connor’s gentle ways soothed his spirit, made him forget the ugliness of the world outside these walls.
So enchanted was he in the picture framed by the nursery doorway, James missed Joseph’s question. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” He hadn’t even heard his brother follow him up the stairs.
“I said I want to stop at the Stewarts’ on the way to the cottage. Care to come along?” James caught a look of determination on Joseph’s face.
Remembering his father’s words, he sighed. “Aye.”
Robert, who followed behind Joseph, declined, saying he thought he should stay home. James and Joseph headed downstairs and out the front door.
They walked in silence for most of the way. It ate at James, this silence. His own mind whirled, not knowing what to do in his own case, and his heart floundered in a quandary. Maybe he could learn something. Then again, maybe not. This was Joseph, after all, who kept everything locked inside. Curiosity had the better of him. He wanted Sarah to be happy. For a long time, he’d hoped she could find her happiness with him. But, somehow, images of Shannon O’Connor flooded back far more than thoughts of Sarah these days. “What do you plan to say?”
“I haven’t thought it all out. I’m hoping the right words will come when we can actually talk.”
“So why am I here? You don’t want me to chaperone, do you? You could always wait for the morning.”
“Father is serious. I prefer to do things his way. He has a way of being right. Besides you can help me keep watch over the cottage and my barn tonight. And, I need to do this before I lose my nerve.”
James gave Joseph a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Then I will see you safely to the Stewarts’ and await you at your cottage. You really don’t need me, and I’ve got some thinking to do myself.” James could feel Joseph’s grin more than see it in the dwindling light.
“I guess you do. However, don’t leave just yet. If we both go, no one can accuse me of calling on the lass.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” The crunch of broken seashells lining the drive to the Stewarts’ tower house echoed from under their boots.
“I don’t know.” Joseph walked up to the door.
James chuckled. “Do you plan to be honest with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re obviously not being honest with me or the Widow. I wonder if you’re even being honest with yourself.�
�� James winked at Joseph, hoping to soften his words.
Joseph said no more but stepped up to the front door.
Bridget swiftly answered his knock. “Might we speak with Miss Sarah?”
“Aye, sir.” The practiced curtsey made her cap bob. “Will you not come in?” Bridget held the door wider, allowing the men entrance before closing it with trained silence. She led James and Joseph to the parlor before notifying Sarah’s parents. The Crocketts had often been guests at Balleylawn. James knew the parlor by heart.
“Joseph and James.” Meg Stewart sounded surprised as she floated into the room. “I understand you’ve come to see Sarah?”
James and Joseph briefly bowed. Looking to his brother, James remained silent. This was Joseph’s plan. He would have to be the one to answer. Joseph seemed to get the message.
“Aye, Mistress Stewart. Might we speak with her?”
“Of course. Please be seated. I will get her. Might I get you some tea?”
Joseph declined and James shook his head. Mistress Stewart smiled before floating back out to find her daughter.
Joseph nervously rocked on the balls of his feet. It was hard not to laugh. Joseph rarely displayed signs of nervousness. This younger brother of his had always seemed so solid and sure. He never made a mistake nor did anything out of line. And he usually had a well thought out plan before he did a thing.
Well, that was until Kathleen died.
He seemed almost back to normal. Maybe a little more serious, but considering what he’d been through, that was natural. James put his arm over Joseph’s shoulder and gave him a brotherly wink.
Joseph smiled and nodded.
“Is everything all right with Wee Joseph?” Concern filled Sarah’s voice as she nearly ran into the room.
“He’s fine, peacefully dreaming.” Joseph motioned to a chair.
Sarah took the seat, her graceful fingers folded together in her lap, her green eyes wide.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 37
