Hope Springs (25 page)

She’d accepted the gift with grace. Seeing her so happy over something so small spurred him on.

“The other package is for you as well. A token of my gratitude for all the work you did while you lived at our house and for watching the girls while I was away.”

“They were a delight. You needn’t offer me gifts for doing something I enjoy.”

“I want to.” He had sent for that particular package just before she left to live on the Irish Road, unsure how he would convince her to keep it. Her birthday wasn’t until after the New Year. Christmas was still some time off. A gift for no particular occasion would have been a difficult thing to explain.

Katie lifted the package up. “It’s heavy.”

Joseph all but held his breath. He had no idea what she would think of his gift. If only she would love it the way he hoped she would.

She tore back the paper. “A book?” She was clearly confused.

“This is no ordinary book,” he said. “A Frenchman invented a machine a few years ago called a phonautograph. It creates patterns, pictures from sound waves.”

Katie gave the tiniest shake of her head. “I don’t know what sound waves are.”

“I would be willing to wager you do but you just haven’t heard them called that.”

She looked more intrigued by the moment.

“When you speak or sing, you feel a vibration in your throat or perhaps in your chest. And when you play your violin, it vibrates inside.”

“Aye.”

“That vibrating you feel is sound waves.”

“I didn’t know there was a word for it.” She looked back at the still-closed book. “This man from France—how does his machine make pictures from sound waves?”

Joseph flipped the book open to a drawing of the phonautograph. “The person speaks or sings or plays an instrument into this part here.” He tapped the sketch, indicating the cone-shaped piece of the phonautograph. “And the vibrating makes this part here shake exactly the same way the sound itself is shaking.”

“And it makes a picture of the shaking?” She was already putting it together, though he’d not told her enough for the concept to be entirely clear.

“Around this cylinder is a long sheet of paper covered in lampblack. The moving part has something very much like a needle at the end, and that needle scratches a pattern into the blacking.”

Her eyes moved about as she studied the drawing. He could almost see the thoughts as they swirled through her mind. “Those patterns, then, are—” Her forehead creased and her eyes narrowed. She tipped her head to one side, still examining the drawing. “Those patterns are what sound
looks
like? If we could see music, it would look like the patterns this machine makes?” She tapped the drawing.

“Yes, exactly.”

She slowly turned her head in his direction. Awe filled her face. “They are like photographs of music. Not people playing music, but the music itself.”

“Yes. Music and spoken words and general sounds. Any noise at all makes a pattern in the air.”

She clasped her hands together and pressed her fingertips to her lips, leaning back in her chair. It was exactly the posture of a woman in a state of full amazement. After a moment, she said, “Can I see the . . . the pictures? I don’t the know proper name for them.”

“They are phonautograms. And of course you can look at them.” Joseph flipped through the first few pages, past the explanation of how the machine was invented and the principles on which it worked, until he found the first phonautogram print.

“These wavy lines, here?” Katie spoke before he had a chance to. “Are these the pho—phon—”

“Phonautograms. Yes.”

She stared, hardly blinking. She said simply, “They’re beautiful.”

He’d known she would think that. He’d known it. She who loved music so deeply couldn’t help but be moved by the sight of its physical form.

She traced her finger along the up-and-down pattern of the line that stretched the length of the entire page. “Does it say what sound this is?”

Joseph read the inscription. “It says this is a man’s voice singing ‘Au Claire de Lune.’”

“This is music, then.” She shook her head in amazement. “I have often closed my eyes while playing my fiddle and imagined the music as swirls of color and light. But I never knew it had a shape, an actual shape. If we could see it floating in the air around us, it would have a shape.”

“This shape, in fact,” Joseph said, a smile around the edge of his mouth.

They turned page after page, Katie watching in wonder, asking countless questions. Joseph read the inscription under each image so she would know exactly what she was seeing. How quickly she grasped a concept based in physics and mathematics having never studied either one. Here was one of many reasons he’d come to love her as he did. She had an intellect not only open to new ideas but eager for them and more than capable of learning anything she put her mind to.

“This is really for me to keep all for myself?” she asked before they had even reached the end of the book.

“Yes, it is. I wanted you to have something that you would love but not necessarily need.”

“I don’t understand.”

He didn’t entirely himself. “I just wanted to give you something that would make you happy.”

“It has, Joseph. It’s like holding a bit of magic.” She closed the book, running her hand lovingly over its cover.

Something about that set his heart pounding again. Perhaps because she’d liked his gift so much. Perhaps it was the sparkle of excitement and joy in her eyes. Maybe the grace of even her smallest movements.

He slowly, carefully, slid his hand over hers where it rested on the book.

“Thank you, Joseph. I will treasure this.”

He wrapped his fingers around her hand and pulled it to his lips. He pressed a quick kiss to her fingers. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Katie sat very still, watching him. He couldn’t quite decide what expression she wore. Confusion. Enjoyment. Uncertainty. Pleasure. It was a mixture of all of those things. He waited for her to pull away or speak or let him know if the gesture was welcome.

She did nothing but sit frozen on the spot, her gaze never leaving him.

“Katie, I—”

A knock interrupted the words he’d not yet decided upon. Katie hesitated a moment.

“I should answer that.” Her voice was small, unsteady. Her eyes remained firmly locked with his.

Joseph nodded and released her hand.

Katie crossed to the door. Joseph hoped whoever it was would keep their conversation short so he could have more time with her.

But the moment she opened the door, he knew his time was over. A quick intake of breath preceded her happy cry of “Tavish!”

Tavish scooped her up, spinning her about. “Did you miss me, lass?”

For just a moment Joseph had forgotten that he had a rival for Katie’s affections, a rival with a prior claim. He rose as Tavish came in, nodding in what he hoped appeared to be unconcerned friendliness.

“Joseph.” Tavish held out his hand and Joseph shook it.

“Were your deliveries successful?” Joseph asked.

Tavish said they were. He didn’t seem overly worried about finding another man spending an evening with the woman he was courting. Either Tavish didn’t care as deeply as Joseph thought—something he doubted very much—or Tavish was confident in the strength of Katie’s regard.

Joseph bid them both good night. He received a sincere, if awkward, thank you from Katie. He nodded his acceptance as he slipped out the door.

He’d made progress that night and had some reason for optimism. But the end was far from decided.

Though failure was a very real possibility, he didn’t intend to lose without a fight.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tavish pounded nails into the cow stall he and Ian were repairing in Ian’s barn. While working alongside his brother once more was a relief, Ian wasn’t entirely his old self again. He moved slower and without the stamina he once had. Tavish wanted his brother back, whole again.

“How is your new addition coming along?” Ian asked, helping Tavish lift the next plank into place.

“It is taking shape at last. The work has been slower than I expected.”

“A great many things have been slower than expected lately.” Ian looked unmistakably frustrated.

“How
are
you doing, then?” Tavish worried for him. “You seem a bit better at least.”

Ian pounded in a nail, securing the plank. “Each day I’m a little improved, but I was no help at all during harvest. We lost a great deal of crop.”

Tavish knew that well, and he was sorry for it. Even with all the men in the O’Connor family working one another’s land, without Ian working alongside them, they’d not been able to bring in all the grain.

Ian set to sanding the top plank of the wall. “We weren’t able to make our full payment on the land,” he admitted in a quiet and frustrated voice. “Not even half the amount owed.”

“You’re not alone in that, brother. Hardly a soul in this valley made their payment in full. Times are hard for everyone.”

They worked in silence for some time. Ian’s thoughts were, no doubt, filled with his own worries. Tavish’s mind was full of Katie, as always. Seeing Joseph Archer with her the very night Tavish returned to town had left him worrying once more.

Joseph could give her more than a small room tacked onto one end of a very simple and humble house. Joseph could give her the finest home in all of Hope Springs. If she wished for it, he could give her the whole world.

Tavish could offer her very little.

“How’s our Katie holding up?” Ian asked without warning. “Has she heard from her father?”

“I don’t believe she has.” Indeed, Katie sometimes had such a look of sorrow in her eyes, the same sadness he’d seen there the day word had arrived of her father’s illness.

“Da has full adopted her, you know.” A quick smile crossed Ian’s face. Tavish was glad to see it. “He’s as protective of Katie as he ever was of Ciara and Mary. Whenever she comes ’round and Da is here, he asks how you’re treating her and how Joseph’s treating her and if she’s happy.”

Da asks after Joseph. Is there anyone who
doesn’t
realize I’ve lost ground to that man?

Tavish laid his hammer on the barn floor near his bag of nails. They were nearly finished with the stall.

Ian chuckled lightly, pulling Tavish’s eyes in that direction. Ian hadn’t laughed much lately. Tavish hoped it meant he was mending.

“Do you remember how frustrated Ciara always was with Da when he’d quiz her about her beaux?”

Tavish smiled at the memory. “Does Katie prick at it as well?”

Ian shook his head. “She only smiles and embraces Da as if she’s too grateful for words. A sweet woman she is.”

“You don’t have to convince me of that.” Tavish gave their handiwork a close inspection. The stall was sturdy. “We’ve done some fine work here, Ian.”

“We always were an impressive team, you and I. Well, mostly
I,
but you helped a bit here and there.”

Tavish shook his head and laughed. Here was yet another glimpse of the brother he feared he had lost.

“Isn’t this just like the two of you,” Biddy said from a few steps away. “Laughing when you ought to be working.” She smiled broadly as she came to where they stood.

Ian slipped his arms around her without a moment’s hesitation and kissed her soundly. Tavish wished he had received that kind of greeting from Katie when he arrived at her doorstep a few days earlier, but at least she had embraced him.

Well,
I
embraced
her
, but she didn’t object. She hugged me back right there in front of Joseph. That has to count for something.

What did he know of the workings of the female mind? Katie cared for him, he knew that much. He even believed she
loved
him. That did not, however, mean she didn’t have any affection for Joseph Archer. She might not be entirely sure what she felt.

Which doesn’t help my cause at all.

Biddy settled easily into Ian’s embrace and her gaze fell on Tavish. “’Tis your day for fetching the wee’uns.”

He had nearly forgotten.

There’d been a few scuffles between children in the schoolyard, and the preacher had asked that the children be collected at the end of each day by their parents or neighbors or family to ensure they returned home without getting themselves in fights along the way.

“I’ll come by your place tomorrow and help with your new room,” Ian offered.

Tavish gave him a firm nod of acknowledgment. He welcomed the help and the reassurance that Ian was recovering.

As he left, he saw Ian pull Biddy closer and press a kiss to her forehead.

That picture remained with him as he walked to town. Ian and Biddy had precisely the deep and abiding connection Tavish longed for. They completed one another, two halves of a whole. They found strength and comfort in the other. He wanted that for himself.

I think Katie feels that way toward me. But do I feel that way for her?

He nodded to his neighbors, gathered in town. The school days had been shortened. All the children left at lunchtime now; no more outside playtime, and thus no opportunities for fistfights behind the school building. The children left every day with somber faces and a look one would expect to see in the eyes of a caged animal. Tavish fully intended to let the children he’d come to collect run all the way down the Irish Road—they’d be restless after being kept inside all morning.