Longing for Home (3 page)

Tavish shrugged.

“Hope Springs sits a good distance from them,” Ian said. “They’re just tall.”

“Very tall, I’d say.” Katie’s tone of curiosity rang a bit false.

She grew more intriguing all the time. He didn’t doubt she was as strong and independent as she’d let on, but there was something in her tense and uneasy demeanor that struck him as terribly vulnerable. A contradiction she was.

“I’ve seen nothing in Wyoming but distant mountains and a vast brown emptiness,” she said. “How does one farm in a place as dry as this?” Her thoughtful frown was surprisingly endearing. She was too serious by half.

A bit of teasing seemed more than called for. “Dry? Why, it looks like rain even now, and we had rain only last week.”

“Aye.” Ian nodded. Tavish knew that look of feigned seriousness. “A mere ten days ago.”

“I heard a rumor that an ark’s being built back behind the mercantile,” Tavish said. “Should it rain again in ten days, we’ll have farmers lined up by the twos, we will. Three downpours in a month’s time. ’Twill be the end days, it will.”

Katie’s posture grew stiffer at his teasing. “I don’t like you, Tavish O’Connor.”

How could a man not grin at such a declaration made with such an overdone look of displeasure? “I know.”

Katie clutched her hatpin tighter and kept her gaze on the road ahead. If ever a woman were determined to dislike a man, she was. It was that stubborn effort at disapproval that piqued his interest.

Over the next quarter-hour, he watched Katie’s expression flit between confusion and irritation, worry and no interest all. She likely had no idea how much of her thoughts showed in her face. She was nervous but didn’t want them to know. More likely than not, she didn’t want
him
to know.

Did he truly frighten her as much as he seemed to, or was she simply set on keeping everyone at a distance?

“You’re determined to make everyone your friend, Tavish,” Da had often said over his growing-up years. “Not everyone’s goin’ to like you.”

To which he’d always replied, “But more of them will than if I ignored them all.”

And most people did decide in the end he was worth being called friend. Katie Macauley, though, didn’t seem like most people.

“Keep your eyes fixed on that bonnie wee mountain just ahead.” Tavish pointed directly in front of them at the hill that hid the town. They didn’t get many visitors; a person had to know where Hope Springs was to find it, so well was it hidden from view. “Just on the other side runs a river. Over that river stands a bridge. Beyond that bridge you’ll find Hope Springs.”

For the first time since they’d taken her up in the wagon, stubborn Katie Macauley didn’t make a show of ignoring him. Her gaze took in the very sights he pointed out. She didn’t argue, didn’t turn her back. She was curious enough to drop her defenses for a moment.

The wagon went around the low point between two hills and into a vast valley.

“Here we come, Sweet Katie. Just ahead.”

“You’ve told her that once already, you looby.” Ian shook his head. “Shut your gob and let her enjoy a moment’s peace.”

Leave it to Ian to ruin the one moment of attention their companion had paid him in the entire two hours they’d been together.

Into view came the very outskirts of the tiny town the O’Connors had called home for ten years. Would Katie think it quaint and picturesque, or insignificantly small? He tried to see it through a stranger’s eyes. The river ran slow and lazy as it often did in the heat of summer. The wooden bridge was made of rough-hewn wood, perhaps less than pleasing to the eye. The town itself could boast nothing beyond a single street with a building on either side.

He tried to gauge Katie’s reaction to it. But she’d closed her expression up tight. The window to her feelings was shuttered and locked.

The wagon rolled over the bridge.

“Sit up nice and tall, Sweet Katie. We’re about to parade you through the center of town.”

Her mouth tightened in an annoyed line. “I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

“Too late, I’m afraid,” he answered. “The name fits, and I suspect it’ll stick.”

Indeed, he meant to call her that for as long as he knew her, if only because it pulled her from her determination to be standoffish and unapproachable. He was generally good at reading people, and he firmly suspected Katie Macauley was not the cold, unapproachable woman she worked hard to appear.

Ian led his team directly down the street through the center of their town. Katie grew noticeably uncomfortable.

Ah. There is a bit of her puzzle, then. She doesn’t care for scrutiny.

“You couldn’t see fit to go a back way, I suppose,” she murmured.

“And miss the chance to be seen riding about with a lovely young lady?” Tavish said. “Not on your life.”

He expected her to blush. She only looked further put out with him. Stubborn lass.

“Actually, there is no way to reach any of the farms in this valley except right through the center of town. So nothing happens here that doesn’t spread as gossip faster than a wildfire in the dry season.”

They rolled slowly down the street. The few people in town would take note of them immediately. By nightfall every farm nearby, the far-off ranches even, would know the O’Connor brothers had arrived with a young lady alongside them.

Katie’ll hate that. Perfect.

“The first building way up ahead is the mercantile.” He gestured toward the very thing he spoke of. “Across the way from that is the blacksmith. The white building farther down a piece is the schoolhouse and church on Sundays.”

“And this stretch of dirt we’re riding on is the road.” Ian gave him a quick look of annoyance. “The woman’s got eyes, Tavish. No need pointing out every little thing.”

He shot him a pleading look he knew his brother wouldn’t believe for a moment. “Don’t take away my chance to brag a bit. She’ll think me whip smart for knowin’ so much.”

“More likely she’ll think you talk too much about nothing. I’m saving you from your own self, if only you’d listen.”

Katie glanced between the two, brow knit and mouth twisted a bit. “Do you always bicker this way?”

“Not bicker, Sweet Katie. ’Tis banter, this is.
Banter.
”

Ian came terribly close to rolling his eyes. “When we were growing up, Da would take a switch to us for bickering. But banter was permitted.”

“Put on your airs if you got them,” Tavish said under his breath as they reached the edge of town. “We’re about to be the very center of attention.”

As predicted, all eyes turned in their direction as the wagon slowly rolled down the town’s one and only road. Those walking about stopped and turned to watch, studying the wagon’s occupants. Seamus Kelly stepped out of the blacksmith shop and leaned against a post holding up the overhang. A gaggle of women stood outside the mercantile to watch them pass.

Katie kept her eyes forward, her back straight and chin up. She clearly meant to tell the entire town that their opinion of her mattered very little. But if she truly didn’t care what they thought, why make such a show of it?

She glanced behind her at the town as they left it behind. For someone so indifferent, she certainly kept her eye on things.

“’Tis a bonnie wee place, is it not?” Tavish said.

“‘Bonnie wee?’ I lived in Ireland all my life and never once heard anyone actually say that.” She shook her head. “I’m beginning to suspect you’re only pretending to hail from Erin’s Isle.”

He grinned mischievously. “Around here we like to make quite a deal out of being Irish. Perhaps we’ve come to overdo it a bit.”

“Aye. A bonnie wee bit,” she said under her breath.

“Well turned, Katie,” Ian said. “Well turned.”

Well turned, indeed.
There was intelligence under that stubborn mask. She would be a joy to know, if only she’d give him the opportunity.

“There’s Archer’s place.” Tavish motioned with his head directly in front of them.

Katie turned forward again, eyeing the white, two-story home with dark blue trim and a gabled roof, sitting in the midst of a neat and orderly yard. The Archer home was by far the nicest in the area. No rough plank walls and river-rock chimneys for the wealthy Joseph Archer. He owned the largest home, the most fertile fields. He alone had the means of hiring servants to see to the keeping of his house. Tavish tried very hard not to envy the man but didn’t always succeed.

Ian pulled the wagon up in front of the barn. Almost the next moment their youngest brother, Finbarr, stepped out and glanced up at them. The lad had worked for Archer these past three years. During that time, he’d grown from a scrawny, timid boy to a quietly confident young lad of sixteen. If for no other reason than that, Tavish had long since decided not to hate Joseph Archer.

“Is Joseph about?” Ian asked.

Finbarr nodded and motioned to the barn behind him.

“Tell him we’ve come with something he’s been looking for.”

The boy’s eyes shifted immediately to Katie, curiosity clear on his face. She fidgeted under the scrutiny. She’d best grow accustomed to that. The entire town would be wondering about her.

“He is an O’Connor, I daresay.” She sounded more irritated by the realization than anything else.

“The youngest of us,” Tavish said.

“Aye, but that one knows how to hold his tongue, something I hadn’t thought was an O’Connor trait.”

Ian, who’d begun climbing down from his perch on the wagon, stopped midway and smiled across at her. “I’ve a feeling you’re going to get on quite well with my wife, Biddy.”

Tavish hoped that proved true. A friendship between the two meant he’d see more of this intriguing Katie Macauley.

Joseph Archer emerged from his barn, walking with determined step toward the wagon. Ian greeted him a few paces away. “Good day to you, Joseph.”

“That’s Joseph Archer?” Katie asked Tavish in a low whisper. She sounded both surprised and unhappy with the thought.

“Aye. Joseph Archer he is.”

Her expression pulled tight with surprise. “He’s younger than I expected.”

“How old did you think he’d be?”

“Nearly ancient.”

Just what in his letters had made her think that?
Tavish wondered.

Ian and Joseph approached the wagon. Katie kept herself quite still, studying her employer, a look of dissatisfaction written all over her face.

Joseph looked up at her. “I’m told you are my missing housekeeper. I expected you over a week ago.”

Tavish bristled a bit on her behalf at the scolding tone Joseph had used.

“I know I’m late, sir, but it’s not my fault. I missed a train back a piece, and that threw off the whole schedule. Before I knew what I was about, I found myself later and later and standing quite alone in a station a full week after I might have expected to be retrieved.” She took a quick breath and finished her explanation. “I have managed to get myself here, though, and I hope you’ll not be holding it against me that I did so a week after my time.”

Joseph’s face shifted from neutrality to surprise to near annoyance as she spoke. He looked over at Ian. “She’s Irish.”

Ah. There was the reason for Joseph’s obvious disapproval.

“As a shamrock,” Ian replied.

Joseph shook his head adamantly. “She can’t stay. You’ll have to take her back.”

“What?” Katie’s eyes pulled open wide. Even her mouth went slack.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look particularly sorry. “But you cannot stay here.” He turned away.

“He is serious?” Katie asked Tavish.

“I’d imagine so.” While he knew Joseph wouldn’t like the idea of another Irish employee, he’d not have thought the man would turn her away out of hand. “We told you your arrival was likely to cause a stir. Looks like it’s starting here.”

A look of alarm flitted through her eyes. This seemingly unflappable woman had been dealt a hard blow. She sat mute, staring at Joseph Archer’s retreating back.

A woman alone with no employment and no family and no place to go would be well within her rights to panic. He’d been amused by her stubbornness, intrigued by the contradictions he saw in her. But watching her defensive wall crumble, even for the briefest moment, and seeing the frightened person she hid there, tugged at his heart almost alarmingly.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” He couldn’t guarantee he’d succeed, but the woman ought to at least know she had an ally in this unfamiliar town.

Katie shook her head, and the blanket of fierce determination she’d wrapped herself in throughout their journey made a tenacious reappearance. “I learned long ago how to fight my own battles, Tavish O’Connor. That man promised me a job, and I mean to see that he gives it to me.”

Chapter Three

Katie climbed down from the wagon with absolutely no grace to speak of. Speed was more essential than elegance. She pushed her hatpin back through her bonnet, needing both her hands free.

“Hand down my things, please.”

Tavish eyed her with curiosity even as he complied with her request. “You mean to confront him, do you?”

“I mean to keep my job,” she said crisply.