Dawn of the Golden Promise (9 page)

She walked the length of each wall, passing her fingers lovingly over one book after another on the shelves.
I shall make my own future, my own place in the world
, she promised herself.
I shall build me a future of freedom and security…and respectability. No matter how long it takes or how hard I have to work, I will make a life for myself of real value. A life that matters.

Her eyes drank in the storehouse of opportunity at her fingertips. Whittaker House…this room…was the beginning of that life. She could feel it.

But it was, she was quick to remind herself,
only
the beginning.

Unable to drag himself away, Daniel Kavanagh stood just outside the partially open door, watching Quinn O'Shea move along the library shelves. Something about the way she stroked the books, the warmth in her gaze, the faint movement of her lips, gave her actions all the intimacy of a caress.

This wasn't the first time he had covertly observed her as she paced the room or selected a book, her face rapt, her eyes shining. She came here almost every night, after the family had settled in their rooms upstairs and the boys in the dormitory were abed.

Daniel shared her love of the books, understood her pleasure in the library. But Quinn's passion for reading went far beyond his own experience. For him, it was a simple act of entertainment or a quest for knowledge. For her, the library seemed to hold a fascination bordering on obsession. Her entire countenance changed when she entered the room.

He saw it again now. Gone was the guarded watchfulness of her catlike eyes, the faintly cynical smile, the brisk resolve with which she went about her daily tasks. Years seemed to drop away, and with the years, the fortress of grim reserve and suspicion from which she rarely emerged.

Daniel enjoyed seeing her like this, yet at the same time he felt inexplicably threatened by the change in her. He was struck by the light of wonder in those strange, amber-flecked eyes, the unexpected softness of her features, the hint of vulnerability she revealed at no other time. Again he would realize that, instead of the flint-edged woman she seemed so intent on making herself out to be, Quinn O'Shea was in reality a mere slip of a girl—only months older than himself.

Did she suspect that he was mad for her?

The very possibility made his face heat with embarrassment. She obviously considered him no more than a green
gorsoon
, a foolish youth with the dust of barley still in his hair.

She treated him with the same detachment she might have afforded a slow-witted peddler. Although just to look at her made Daniel's heart leap into his mouth, she more often than not looked at
him
as if he did not exist at all.

At the best, she was tolerant of him—at the worst, impatient. She made it quite clear that he was little more than a clumsy interference when he hovered about. He was miserably aware that she suffered his presence only because he was a part of the family who employed her. She wasn't exactly rude to him, merely indifferent.

Daniel found her indifference humiliating. Yet he could not seem to stay away from her. Despite her obvious lack of interest, he was increasingly drawn to her, unreasonably attracted to her. At the same time, he occasionally felt something that bordered on resentment, almost as if his callow foolishness were somehow her fault.

He could only hope that Quinn O'Shea remained unaware of his feelings. As painful as her disregard for him might be, it would surely be preferable to her contempt.

Later that night, Evan lay quietly beside Nora in bed, reading.

Occasionally he would glance over at her to see if she was still awake. Each time she would meet his eyes and smile at him.

Finally he put his book down. “Is the lamp keeping you awake?”

She shook her head. She was propped up on a mountain of pillows to aid her breathing, and in the dim glow from the oil lamp, Evan could see the faint lines of fatigue about her eyes, the ashen hue of her skin.

“You ought to be sleeping.” He reached to take her hand, and she turned to face him. “So, then—what do you m-make of our newest guest?” he asked her. “I saw you watching him at the table.”

She smiled. “I expect your little Oscar could prove to be quite a handful.” Her expression sobered. “Poor little tyke. He was nearly starved, did you notice?”

Evan nodded. The boy had eaten enough for three, wolfing down his dinner like a famished puppy. “I've n-no doubt you're right about his being a handful. B-but what else could I do? He had n-nowhere to go.”

Still smiling, she squeezed his fingers. “Something tells me the walls of Whittaker House will be fit to burst in no time at all.”

Evan sighed. “I wish I could take every one of them in. I would if it were somehow p-possible.”

Nora put her free hand to his face. “Evan—you can't do it alone. Others will have to help.”

“I only pray they will. There m-must be hundreds—perhaps thousands—of homeless children out there, Nora. What's to become of them?” His thoughts went to the enormity of the task to which he had set himself…or rather, the task to which the
Lord
had set him. As always, he felt slightly overwhelmed by what he faced. And, as always, the reminder came that he wasn't alone in it.

“How many
will
we be able to take in, Evan?”

He thought about her question before answering. “Well…thanks to Aunt Winnie and Mr. Farmington—and other church sponsors, of course—we should be able to take care of at least twenty boys by the fall.” He paused, doing some quick calculations in his head. “After Christmas, we'll hope for increased support. Perhaps then we can increase to twenty-five, or even more.”

Nora was quiet for such a long time that Evan looked to see if she had fallen asleep. Instead, she tightened her grasp on his hand. “Evan—will we be able to help Daniel John go on to the university soon, do you think? I know he's saving all he can from his wages with Dr. Grafton, but he gives us most of it, I'm sure.”

Evan tried not to show his uncertainty. “I expect we'll m-manage,” he said. Wanting to reassure her, yet unwilling to deceive her, he went on in a tone that he hoped held more confidence than he felt. “We'll think of something. If the Lord wants Daniel to be a doctor, He'll make a way.”

“I'm worried about him, Evan,” she said quietly.

He looked at her. “Why on earth would you be worried about Daniel?”

“Haven't you noticed how he acts around Quinn?”

Evan
had
noticed, of course, but he rather hoped Nora hadn't.

When he delayed his reply, she went on. “He's sweet on the girl, haven't you seen?”

“Oh, I d-don't know that that's quite the case, dear,” he said evasively. “He m-might be somewhat infatuated with her, I suppose. Quinn is an attractive girl, after all. But I'm sure it's nothing…serious.”

But he wasn't sure of any such thing; indeed, he found Daniel's obvious attraction to their young housekeeper a matter of some concern. The girl had a hard edge to her, combined with a certain secretiveness that troubled Evan. He hadn't altogether forgotten Michael Burke's suspicion that Quinn might be running away from something. Or someone.

Yet despite his nagging uncertainty about Quinn O'Shea, there was no disputing the fact that in only months, the girl had made herself virtually indispensable to them. He hated to think what life would be like without her.

No matter how much they might need her, however, he understood Nora's concern. Daniel was sixteen years old, and in many ways far more mature than his years, yet he was still quite innocent. He would be especially vulnerable, Evan suspected, in matters of the heart.

Much as he himself had been at that age…and for a long time after.

“Has Daniel ever shown interest in girls b-before?” he asked abruptly.

“Only poor Katie, God rest her soul.” Nora twisted to raise herself up on one elbow. “But that was only a childish affection. This is different, Evan.”

She was right. The boy's awkward attempts to retain his composure in Quinn's presence, his quick blush of pleasure when she happened to notice him, the way his gaze followed her every movement across the room—all the signs pointed to a boy's first real passion of the heart.

Evan sighed. Because love had come late to him, he wasn't altogether able to identify with Daniel's youthful dilemma. But certainly he knew the anguish, the bewilderment, of those first painful steps toward love. His own had been agonizingly slow and brutally difficult.

Still, he was anxious to allay Nora's concern about the boy. The last thing she needed in her fragile condition was additional worry. Daniel was, after all, on the threshold of manhood, and he had always been a sensible boy. A good boy.

“We m-must realize, dear, that although Quinn is an attractive young woman, she's also exceedingly responsible. I can't think she would lead D-Daniel on.”

He could see that she wasn't convinced.

“It's just that they're so different,” Nora told him. “Quinn seems so much older than Daniel John, though there's not quite a year between them.” She paused. “The girl seems so…hard, Evan. And Daniel John is such a gentle boy.”

Evan said nothing, his mind drifting. He, too, had noticed the marked difference between their young housekeeper and Nora's amiable son. Though the two were close in years, they seemed ages apart in most other ways. Whereas Daniel was an idealist—thoughtful, noble-intentioned, and a bit of a dreamer—Evan suspected that Quinn O'Shea viewed life through the relentless eyes of a realist. His instincts told him that the girl had encountered too many of life's harsh realities to be otherwise.

To be sure, she had shown no undue interest in Daniel. Evan thought he might know the reason. “If you're aware of Daniel's attraction to the girl,” he said, “then you m-must have noticed Sergeant Price's interest in her as well,”

Nora looked at him. “Sergeant Price?”

Evan nodded. “Surely you d-don't think he comes by as often as he does simply to check on B-Billy and the other boys?”

Nora sat up still more. Evan put out his hand to restrain her, but she shrugged it off.

“You think the sergeant is interested in Quinn?” Her entire expression brightened. “Truly, Evan?”

Evan smiled a little at the eagerness in her voice. “I shouldn't be at all surprised. He d-does seem to go out of his way to visit us, now doesn't he?”

Nora met his smile with one of her own. “Why, he does, now that you mention it,” she said thoughtfully. “And wouldn't such a match make a great deal more sense? Though Quinn
is
a good many years younger than the sergeant.”

“As you said, the girl seems years older than she actually is.”

“And Sergeant Price is a fine looking man,” Nora said, almost to herself. “And a bit of a charmer as well, according to Sara. No doubt Quinn would find the sergeant much more interesting than a young boy like Daniel John.”

Evan could hear her trying to convince herself—and doing an admirable job of it at that. “Well, then, you see…you've nothing to fret about. Nothing at all.”

Nora still looked a bit uncertain. “I don't want to see Daniel John hurt, though. Even if I don't like his attraction to the girl, I'd hate to think she might actually scorn him.”