Hope Springs (21 page)

“Oh, piddle,” Biddy interrupted. “
Was
a time, she says. I know a look of heart-deep confusion when I see it, my dear friend.”

“But that would be wrong.” Katie let her thoughts spill. She needed someone to share her worries with. “I can’t love two men at once, Biddy. What kind of woman would that make me?”

“A very normal one, I’d say.” Biddy didn’t look like she disapproved of the idea. “They’re both fine men, with much to recommend them. They’re alike in the ways that matter—men of integrity and kindness, with a very real fondness for you. And they’re unalike in ways that make them very different choices for your heart as well. You’ve every reason to be unsure. And you’d be wise to sort this out
before
you decide on either one of them.”

Katie rubbed at her newly aching head. “I’ve pledged my heart to Tavish. He knows that. Everyone does.”

“But is that what you want?”

“Of course.” Still, she felt the tiniest bit of doubt. “He was willing to give up his entire life for me. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“I’ll not argue that he doesn’t care for you, nor that he doesn’t love you. I know he does.”

She nodded at the words of confirmation. “And I love him too, I know I do. And if I do, then I can’t love someone else.”

“And yet, Joseph’s claimed a bit of your heart as well?”

She dropped her face into her upturned hands. What a mess it all was. “He comes by to visit, and my heart jumps about at the sight of him. He’s even held my hand a few times. He hugged me when he left town. Actually, I hugged him, but the way he held me . . .” Her heart flipped over at the memory. “I cannot feel this way for two men, Biddy. It doesn’t make sense.”

“The beginnings of love can be like that, Katie. Give your heart a chance to sort itself out and you will, in time, reach a point where there’s no question, no tugging and pulling inside. You’ll simply know.”

“But Tavish—”

“Tavish deserves to be loved entirely by someone who isn’t secretly wondering in her heart if she made the right decision. So does Joseph. Give yourself time to know for sure. If the one you choose is worthy of your heart at all, he’ll be there still.”

Katie could see the wisdom in it, but she still felt all sorts of a fool for being so confused. “And, of course, there is the very real possibility that I’d throw myself heart and soul into pursuing one or the other of them only to discover I’ve overestimated the depth of his feelings. I might make an utter fool of myself and break my heart in the process.”

Biddy nodded her head. “Love does make a mess of our lives, doesn’t it?”

“What am I to do if I can’t sort all of this out?”

“Well, then, you come over here and we’ll cast lots.”

Their laughter rang out around them. Katie felt better for letting that out. If they could laugh at the dilemma her heart had made for her, then perhaps the situation was not as terrible as she feared. Both men would return in the following weeks. She’d simply see how she felt, and she’d pay very close attention.

And with any luck, the answer would be clear in time.

Chapter Eighteen

Housekeepers, Joseph discovered, were not the most predictable sort. His newest one, Mrs. Smith, who had, true to her word, been waiting at the depot, was as different from Katie as seemingly possible. She was at least twice Katie’s age, considerably taller and far thicker built. She was also of a somber disposition, though not necessarily unhappy. Where Katie took to quiet contemplation, Mrs. Smith spoke her mind quickly and to the point.

She would take some getting used to. But, then, so had Katie.

“Is that your town?” Mrs. Smith pointed ahead, past the bridge they were about to drive over.

“It is.”

“Is that all of it?” she pressed.

Joseph nodded. “A mercantile, a blacksmith shop, and the school, which is also the church.”

“It is very small.”

He couldn’t say if her words were a condemnation or simply an observation. Her tone was, without exception, straightforward, very businesslike. He hoped she wouldn’t ruffle too many feathers.

“It
is
very small,” he said. “You will get to know everyone easily that way.”

He’d gone over in great detail all the things he’d written in his telegrams to her. There would be no misunderstandings this time. He’d quite specifically reiterated that she was not to get involved in the town feud. She didn’t have to agree with both sides; she could even be sympathetic to one over the other. She simply could not become actively entangled in it and bring the arguing to his home.

He’d given Katie those same requirements. Though she’d tried, it had, in the end, proven impossible. Still, his first housekeeper had never involved herself so Joseph knew it could be done.

The town was relatively empty. Evening had come, and the children had long since come home from school. Joseph knew he was the first to return from taking in his crop. He had the advantage of many years’ experience with business transactions and a great deal of information gathered ahead of time. His arrangements could be made with very little delay.

The other men would start arriving some time the next morning, he’d guess. In the meantime, he had his girls to pick up and Katie to face again. Their last moments together threaded through his thoughts as he pulled up to the barn.

Katie had run after him. Though he knew she’d done so more out of a reaction to him as a father to his children than out of any true attraction to him as a man, he hadn’t been able to clear his mind of it. His pulse still pounded when he thought back on it. Things always seemed that way between them. She thought of him as a friend and neighbor, while he loved her with every beat of his heart.

He hadn’t changed his mind about courting her, but he wasn’t any more confident about his success
.

He carried Mrs. Smith’s trunks into the house and showed her to Katie’s—
the housekeeper’s
—room. He would have to grow used to the idea of someone else being in there.

“I’ll give you a chance to settle in,” he said. “It is late enough the girls will likely have eaten already. And I have enough left from the traveling supplies to see to my own meal. Feel free to make yourself something to eat from what you find in the kitchen.”

He’d stocked his cupboards before leaving with things that wouldn’t spoil. She’d be able to feed herself without difficulty.

Mrs. Smith gave a quick nod and turned to her unpacking. She would likely have the room entirely converted to her own space by the time he returned. Maybe that would help him stop thinking of the room as Katie’s.

He knocked at Mrs. Claire’s house and, while he waited, prepared himself to see Katie again. He could be friendly and appear unaffected by that embrace they’d shared. She certainly would be.

The door opened.

“Pompah, you’re back!”

A smile spread across his face. “My sweet Ivy.” He reached down and scooped his tiny daughter into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing like she meant to pop his head right off. “We didn’t think you’d be here ’til tomorrow.”

“I rushed back,” he told her. “Did you miss me?”

“Oh, yes, Pompah. And we had ever so much fun. Mrs. Claire taught us how to cro—cro—” She shook her head. “I can’t say the word, but it’s pretty, and Katie said, ‘Ivy, you’ve a fine talent for it, you do.’ Just like that.”

Joseph laughed out loud to hear the remarkably good Irish accent Ivy managed to produce. If she’d had the voice of a twenty-six-year-old rather than an almost six-year-old, she would have sounded very much like Katie.

“And did Emma learn to do this thing you did?” Joseph couldn’t begin to guess just what Mrs. Claire had taught the girls. He simply loved hearing Ivy talk about it.

Ivy nodded emphatically. “But she mostly just did her schoolwork and read a book to Katie.”

That sounded very much like Emma.

“And Katie said that Emma is a fine reader and quite the smartest child she’s ever, ever known in all her days. ‘Bright as the sun in June, you are,’ Katie said.”

Here was one of the many reasons why he hadn’t worried about leaving the girls with Katie. She treated them so sweetly and seemed to know just what they needed to hear.

Emma came into the doorway. “Hello, Papa.”

Joseph reached out and pulled her close to him. “I’ve missed you, Emma.”

She smiled up at him. “Katie says to tell Ivy to let you come in instead of making you stand on the porch like a beggarman.”

He laughed. Katie had likely said exactly that.

He stepped inside with his two girls by his side. Mrs. Claire sat in her customary place near the door, rocking calmly and peacefully.

“Good evening, Mrs. Claire.”

“And to you. How was your trip to market?”

“Very good. I sold all my crop and picked up a housekeeper and returned quicker than expected.”

Mrs. Claire nodded in rhythm with her rocking.

Emma tugged at his pant leg. “I have your watch,” she said, looking up eagerly into his face. “I took very good care of it.”

He smiled down at her. “I had every confidence in you, sweetheart.”

“Have you eaten, Joseph Archer?” He knew the sound of Katie’s voice instantly.

He braced himself to meet her eyes again. She stood over a pot at the stove, looking at him. The steam had brought color to her cheeks and a hint of curl to her hair. She looked, in a word, adorable.

“I have not,” he answered.

“Well, then.” She tapped her spoon on the edge of the pot. “We’ll just add some water to the soup, I suppose.”

Water to the soup?
He refused to be a burden. “That’s not necessary, Katie. I can—”

Why were Katie and the girls laughing? Clearly he’d missed something. He gave Ivy a questioning look—she could be counted on to spill any secret with very little encouragement.

“Katie always says that,” Ivy said with a giggle. “We have imaginary guests every night, Pompah, and Katie says, ‘We’ll just add some water to the soup.’ She says it even if we aren’t eating soup.”

He set Ivy down. She and Emma pulled him by the hand in Katie’s direction. He did his best to keep his nervousness hidden.

“You have had a lot of imaginary guests?”

Emma nodded. “Last night was Queen Victoria.”

Joseph looked to Katie. “Royalty?” He let the girls see how impressed he was with their dignified guest list.

Katie nodded seriously. “Only the very best guests for us.” She looked down at the girls with a grin. “And what did we feed the queen?”

“Praties!” Emma and Ivy answered in unison, before dissolving into laughter.

Katie bit down on her lips as if holding back laughter of her own. Even Mrs. Claire chuckled.

“Have I missed something?” He didn’t understand the joke.

“The fine queen wouldn’t ever eat potatoes—peasant food, you understand.” Katie wiped her hands on a dishrag. “So what did we do, girls?”

“We told her we were eating praties,” Ivy said with a grin wider than Joseph had seen in some time. “And she thought it was something fancy instead of just regular old potatoes.”

“We fooled her,” Emma added. He loved hearing Emma laugh and act more like the carefree child she ought to always have been.

“We fooled her fine and well, we did,” Katie added.

Again all the women laughed. This was the kind of happy home he’d wanted to raise his daughters in. His late wife hadn’t been one for teasing or imaginary dinner companions. There had been very little laughter.

Joseph moved directly to Katie’s side at the stove. “What can I do to help?”

“Oh, I’ve seen the disaster you make of meals, Joseph Archer. I’ll not let you anywhere near this one.” She looked past him. “Time to set the table, girls. You know your parts. Show your father how well you do it.”

Emma and Ivy sprang into action, pulling out plates and cups and flatware with the familiarity of practice.

“You have taught them to set the table?”

Katie nodded, watching the girls fondly. “And they do a fine job of it, with hardly a complaint. Sweet girls.”

“They didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Not at all. But they did miss you.”

He let his gaze turn to the girls as well. They were so vibrant and alive under Katie’s care. He knew already that Mrs. Smith would not be Katie’s equal in that. He only hoped his newest housekeeper wouldn’t prove a complete disaster.

“How have you been?” He thought it a relatively safe beginning to a conversation.

“A little worn, but I’m holding up. The girls have become quite the little helpers this past week. I’ve been grateful to have them here.”

“How are things at the mercantile? Is Johnson still making your life miserable?”

“He slipped and hit his head the other day.”

A blow to the head could be quite serious. “Was he badly hurt?”

“He cut his forehead open—it needed stitching.” Katie spoke as she cut a loaf of bread into thick slices. “As there’s no doctor in town, that task fell to me.”

“You sewed up a man’s head?” Was there nothing this woman couldn’t do?

“Aye, and he’s none too happy about it. Things between us have become terribly awkward. I don’t think he knows just how to behave now. Knowing I did something nice for him, he can’t in good conscience act hateful toward me, but neither can he bring himself to be nice to me.”