A Baby Between Them
“Cameron is a good man.” Agnes made the pronouncement as if she thought Nora might argue with her.
Instead Nora merely nodded and proceeded to get Grace’s bottle ready. When she finally spoke, she deliberately changed the subject. “It’s a pity you and James couldn’t stay for the reception,” she said over her shoulder.
Grace started fussing and Agnes set down her darning and rocked the cradle with her foot. “When you get to be our age,” the older woman answered, “you don’t spend much time away from home. But the ceremony was lovely and Bridget was beautiful.”
“That she was.”
Agnes gave her a knowing look. “You’re going to miss having her under the same roof with you, aren’t you?”
Nora thought about that a moment. It would certainly be strange not having either of her sisters living in the same house with her. They’d never been all separated like this before. No more shared bedrooms and late-night whispers, no more working side by side at their chores, spinning stories for each other and dreaming together of their futures. She would miss that special closeness. But it wasn’t as if she’d never see them again. Soon they would all be living in the same town and there would be opportunities aplenty to visit with each other.
She smiled at Agnes as she moved back to the table. “I suppose I will a wee bit. But it’s the natural order of things for siblings to grow up and start separate families of their own.” She lifted Grace from the cradle. “And I still have Grace, and you and James, here with me. That’s plenty of family to keep a body from feeling lonely.”
Agnes, her eyes a touch misty, reached over and patted Nora’s hand. “You’re a good girl, you are, Nora Murphy, to be adding James and me to your family. And we feel the same about you and that sweet little lamb you’re holding, as well.”
And right then, Nora knew with certainty that she could not abandon this place, this life, no matter how much Bridget and Maeve tried to convince her otherwise.
Almighty Father, surely You didn’t bring me to this place just to have me leave it. Help me to make the right choices to build a good life here for all of us. But always, according to Your will.
Agnes spoke up, reclaiming Nora’s attention. “Do you mind if I ask you a question of a personal nature?”
Nora smiled. “You know you can ask me anything. What is it?”
“When you and Bridget first arrived here you mentioned that you discovered the deed to this cottage only a couple of months ago, and that none of you girls knew anything about Mr. O’Malley before then. I’ve been waiting ever since then for one of you to ask about him and I confess to being a bit puzzled that you haven’t. Are you not the least bit curious?”
Nora shifted Grace in her arms, giving herself time to think about her response. Truth to tell, she’d been a bit afraid of what might come to light if she learned too much. Laird O’Malley had obviously loved her mother a great deal in his youth, and had continued to love her until he died. But had her mother returned that love? Had she secretly pined for this man who had traveled to America and never returned? And if so, what had she felt for their da?
No, Nora wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
But Agnes was waiting for her response. “I already know that he was a generous man who loved my mother very much,” she said carefully. “I’m not sure I need to know more.”
Agnes studied her closely for a moment and Nora tried not to squirm under that discerning gaze. Finally the woman resumed her darning. “I see. Do you mind if I tell you something of him? I think he deserves that much.”
Nora knew it would be churlish to refuse, so she gave in graciously. “Of course.”
“Mr. O’Malley was a good employer, fair and not overly demanding. He loved this place, especially the garden, which he tended to personally.” She smiled reminiscently. “There was even a rumor that he had buried a treasure out there, but of course that’s nonsense. Even so, after he died we would sometimes find an occasional youth sneaking out here and digging around, trying to find it.”
Nora was relieved she hadn’t gone down a more personal road. “So he was happy here.”
“Ah, no, I wouldn’t say happy.” Agnes continued to focus on her stitches. “There was a sadness about him, a sort of lost emptiness that seemed to weigh him down. Many’s a day he would spend walking along the beach and staring out over the ocean as if looking for a ship that never came.”
Had he been yearning for her mother all that time? Better not to dwell on that. “Did he have many friends here?”
“He kept to himself for the most part. He wasn’t shunned or outcast, mind you, he just never made much of an effort to get close to anyone, more’s the pity.”
Nora’s curiosity got the better of her. “Did he ever speak of his life back in Ireland?”
“Not to me or James. But then, he was a very private person and never spoke about much of anything.” Agnes sighed. “I always sensed the man had a good heart—he never uttered a harsh word in my hearing and he could be generous if he became aware of a need. It’s such a sadness that he spent so much time dwelling on his past rather than enjoying his present.”
She knotted and snipped her thread, then began putting away her sewing things. “Anyway, in his own way, Mr. O’Malley provided for all of us in this household and I just thought you ought to know the sort of man he was.”
Grace had finished her bottle by this time, and Nora lifted her to her shoulder. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It sounds as if he was a very lonely man.” How sad to have loved someone so deeply and not have had that love returned.
She remembered how dejected and hurt Bridget had been when it looked as if Will would be honor bound to marry another woman. Thankfully, it had worked out happily for them in the end, but what if it hadn’t? Would her sister have recovered from that blow, especially after she’d already suffered being left at the altar once before?
Giving your heart so completely to someone else was a dangerous thing, especially if one had no assurance that the feelings were returned. She had made that mistake once. Back in Castleville, there’d been a young man, Braydan Rourke, who’d lived in the village near their cottage. Braydan was handsome and strong and had a winning smile and generous heart, much like Cam. He’d been kind to the Murphy family, helping them out when Nora’s father had injured his foot and couldn’t tend to his crops for a few weeks.
As she always had for their da, Nora had carried Braydan’s noonday meal and flasks of water out to the fields, and during those breaks they had shared many a conversation. She’d been sixteen at the time and was enthralled when Braydan had confided his dreams of a better life to her. It embarrassed her now to remember how quickly and completely she’d fallen for him. At least she could take some small comfort in knowing that no one had suspected what a love-struck fool she’d been. Because when her da returned to the fields three weeks later, Braydan had not only left their farm but left Castleville itself without a backward glance and she’d never heard from him again.
It had been a painful lesson, but she’d learned it well. She would not so easily give her heart to a man again. Perhaps she was better off focusing her love on Grace.
James and Cam entered the kitchen just then, pulling Nora from her somber thoughts. The two men were sharing a laugh and Nora was caught again by how caring the sheriff was toward the Coulters, how boyish he looked when he was in a good humor and how his laugh could draw you in and make you want to smile along.
It would be so easy to develop stronger feelings for such a man. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she would admit that she already felt that little telling tug of attraction when he was around. His gaze snagged on hers and she could almost convince herself that his eyes took on a warmer glow. Almost without thought, she found herself responding in kind.
But then she dropped her gaze. That way lay heartache. She would not become another Laird O’Malley. Sheriff Long was her employer, nothing more. And if at times he seemed to treat her with special warmness, she needed to remind herself that that was just his way. Despite his nonchalant manner, she’d seen over and again how caring and protective he was of those around him. It was what made him such a good lawman. But she wasn’t in need of his charity or his protection. Her life had been hard, but it had taught her how to take care of herself. And that was exactly what she would do.
As she fussed with Grace, Nora heard Agnes invite the sheriff to stay for dinner. She mentally held her breath while she waited on his response. When he refused, she wasn’t certain if it was relief or disappointment that whooshed through her.
Later that evening as she lay in her bed, Nora found herself restless and unable to sleep. Not that this vague sense of discontent had anything to do with her earlier realizations about her relationship with the sheriff. No, it was most likely due to knowing Bridget was no longer part of the household—nothing more.
After all, it wasn’t as if her heart was in any real danger since she’d come to her senses in time. And she was perfectly content to settle for Cam’s friendship.
Turning over on her side, she steadfastly ignored the little voice in her head that wanted to argue the matter with her.
Chapter Four
On Monday morning, Nora patted Grace’s back as she stared out the kitchen window at the gloomy weather. The rain had slacked off to a drizzle but it was still falling steadily. If it didn’t let up soon it would make for an unpleasant ride into town this morning.
Not that she was one to let a bit of weather get in her way. There were four mouths to feed in this household, and, as her sisters had pointed out on Saturday, there was still lots of work to be done on the cottage itself before the cooler weather of autumn settled in. Work that required funds for supplies.
And there were more immediate needs cropping up every day. She’d awakened this morning to the sound of water dripping from the ceiling onto her bedchamber floor. Two hand spans over and those drips would have landed right on Grace. That had been a sobering sight.
But there was reason to be optimistic, as well. Just last night she’d had an idea for a way to bring in some extra money. She hadn’t worked out all the details in her mind yet, but that was another reason she was eager to get to town today despite the weather—she’d really like to get Sheriff Long’s opinion on this scheme of hers. After all, he had much more knowledge of Faith Glen and its people than she did.
Grace hiccupped and Nora patted her back. Then she frowned as she came back to this morning’s weather. She didn’t mind getting wet herself, but it wouldn’t be right to take an infant out on such a day if it wasn’t truly necessary.
But what other choice did she have?
“Surely you’re not going to take that little lamb out in this rain.” Agnes Coulter crossed the room, a soft smile on her face.
Nora shook her head. “I don’t really want to.” She glanced out the window once more. “Then again, perhaps if I wrap her really well…”
Agnes tsked. “You have another choice. You can leave Grace with me and James.”
Nora immediately thought of a half-dozen reasons why she couldn’t do that. The Coulters were elderly and frail. And they’d never had children of their own. Did they even know how to take care of an infant? And what about Grace’s favorite lullaby—could either of them sing it to her when she got fussy?
She gave Agnes what she hoped was a convincing smile. “That’s very kind, but I wouldn’t want to impose on you that way. It’s not raining very hard. Perhaps it will let up—”
“Don’t be silly. I know you’re as attached to that baby as a turtle is to its shell, but you can’t keep her by your side all day, every day. You both need a break from each other occasionally.”
Both women turned as the back door opened and James limped in carrying a covered pail that no doubt contained fresh milk.
Agnes immediately started back across the room, her finger wagging like a gossipmonger’s tongue. “James Barnabas Coulter, stop right there. Don’t you dare go tromping water and mud across my clean floor.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Set that pail down and take yourself back out on the stoop and make use of the bootjack and dry off with that feed sack before you come back in.”
“No need to yell at me, woman,” James grumbled. “I was just trying to get the milk inside before Grace started wailing for her breakfast.” But despite his aggrieved tone, James did as he was told.
Nora lay Grace down in the blanket-lined cradle and hurried over to retrieve the pail before Agnes tried to carry it herself. The older woman nodded her thanks and moved back toward the table, while Nora moved to the counter to strain the milk through a cheesecloth.
“This kind of weather is hard on his hip,” Agnes said as the door closed behind her husband. “He doesn’t like me to make a fuss over him, though.”
Nora could hear the affection in the older woman’s voice. The couple had been married for over fifty years she’d learned. Would she ever find that kind of love for herself?
An image of the sheriff, with his smoky blue eyes and straw-colored hair, floated through her mind at that thought. Realizing where her mind had drifted, Nora pulled herself up short, reminding herself of what she’d resolved just two days ago. There would be none of that. Better to remember that the man was not only her employer but more often than not she found herself at odds with him.
She watched Agnes’s expression soften as Grace latched on to one of the woman’s gnarled fingers, and Nora wrestled with the idea of leaving Grace in her and James’s care. She’d barely been separated from Grace for more than a few hours since she’d first laid eyes on the squalling babe aboard the Annie McGee. The few time that they had been separated, Grace had been with one of her sisters. The Coulters, for all their kindness and good intentions, seemed hardly up to the job of caring for a baby. And she didn’t want to put them to the test when she wasn’t at least nearby to observe.
Nora set the bowl of milk aside and moved back toward the table. She resisted the urge to pick Grace up, instead letting Agnes continue to play with the child.
“See, Grace and I will get along just fine.” Agnes smiled up at Nora, and then, as if she read something in Nora’s face, her own expression changed to resignation. She reached over and patted Nora’s hand. “It’s okay, Nora girl. I understand.”
Rather than making Nora feel better, Agnes’s words shifted Nora’s perception of the elderly couple. Yes, the Coulters still wore the frailness of their advanced years, but both Agnes and James had come a long way since she’d first met them. They moved with new purpose now, and the pinched, resigned looks they’d worn when she’d first met them were gone.
Besides, Grace was very little trouble and was still of an age where she stayed wherever she was placed. It wasn’t as if they would have to chase after her.
As Agnes had said, she needed to accept that she couldn’t have Grace with her every minute of every day, and this was an ideal time to see how both she and Grace would handle being apart.
Nora had a feeling that Grace would handle it much better than she would.
Taking a deep breath she smiled at her friend. “Actually, you’re right, it would be irresponsible of me to take Grace out in this weather simply because I like the pleasure of her company. If you’re certain you don’t mind, I’d be most grateful to have you and James watch over Grace for me today.”
Agnes’s face split in a wide grin and she tapped Grace’s chin. “Did you hear that, sweetling? You’re going to spend the day right here with me and James.”
Nora studied the woman’s awkward movement and gnarled fingers and wondered if she’d made a mistake. But it would be too cruel to tell her she’d changed her mind now.
As Nora placed a clean apron and half-dozen fresh baked biscuits into a hamper to take with her, she thought that maybe she’d see if the sheriff would mind if she only worked a half day today. She mentally grimaced. One thing was for certain, he’d no doubt be glad she was leaving Grace with the Coulters for a change. She still hadn’t figured out why Grace made him so uncomfortable, but there was no denying that she did. Would it be prying if she asked Ben if he had some insights into why?
Fifteen minutes later, Nora stood in the cottage doorway, tying the ribbon of her wool cape. She winced as she spotted droplets trickling down the wall near the parlor chimney. They were making progress on repairs but there was still so much to be done around here.
As she stared out at the lane, she wondered if perhaps she was assuming too much by expecting the sheriff to come out to fetch her in this weather. After all, he was under no obligation—
Right on time, she spied his wagon lumbering up the drive. Despite his sometimes lackadaisical demeanor, she had to admit the man was always punctual. He was wearing a long brown coat similar to what the fishermen back in Ireland wore, and what the sailors aboard the Annie McGee had worn. She thought wistfully about how nice it would be to have something to wear on a day like today that shed water so nicely. Perhaps she would add that to her growing list of necessary purchases.
As soon as the wagon drew near, she pulled the hood of her cape up over her bonnet and grabbed the hamper that rested at her feet.
No point standing on ceremony on a day like today.
And with that thought, she took a deep breath and prepared to dash out to meet him.
Chapter Five
By the time Cam had set the brake and hopped down from the wagon, Nora was already out the door. Fool woman, why couldn’t she let a body help her every once in a while?
He waved her back to the house and she stopped short. Frowning at him, she turned and dashed back to shelter.
He reached under the wagon seat and grabbed the oilskin coat he’d brought with him, then marched over to meet her. “Here, Ben sent this for you to use. It’ll keep you drier than that bit of wool you’re wearing.”
Her eyes widened and her lips pinched into a straight line. No doubt she was unhappy with his tone. But there was a hint of appreciation in her eyes, as well. “That was very thoughtful of Ben.” She didn’t sound convinced that it had been his deputy’s idea. Then she motioned him inside. “Come in off the stoop while I put this on.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to track inside your house. Besides, I won’t get much wetter than I already am.”
She sighed, as if she were dealing with a stubborn child. But she didn’t comment. Instead, she reached for the coat.
But Cam was having none of that. Instead he shook out the folds, stepped a little closer and held it up to assist her into it. After only the slightest of hesitations she allowed him to do so.
He was just being polite, he told himself. And if he happened to enjoy the fact that the action brought him close enough to brush a hand against her neck, to inhale the scent of cinnamon and flowers that seemed a part of her, well, that was just incidental.
Once the coat was wrapped around her, Nora turned to offer him a smile. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “Here.” He handed her a fair-sized square of the oilcloth. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear one of Ben’s hats, but this will work almost as well. Just tie it over your headgear.”
She took it without protest, quickly folded it into a triangle and covered her head, bonnet and all, tying it firmly under her chin.
That was one thing he liked about Nora, she didn’t put on airs or complain. Good qualities to have in a housekeeper. And a friend.
He was relieved to note Grace wasn’t anywhere in sight. It saved him the trouble of convincing her that the baby should stay inside on a day like today. “Glad to see you had enough sense not to take Grace out in this.”
She nodded and he saw her worry at her lip a moment. “Agnes offered to take care of her and I couldn’t turn her down.”
He gave her an approving smile. “No reason why you should. It’s about time you let Grace out of your sight for a bit.”
She immediately stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course I’m protective of her. That poor child was abandoned once already in her short life. I want to do all I can to make certain she feels loved and secure with me.”
It seemed he’d gotten her back up yet again. He raised his hands, palms out. “I wasn’t criticizing. It’s obvious how much you love that little girl and I’m sure you’re doing a fine job caring for her. It’s just rare that I see you without Grace nearby.”
Nora’s feathers seemed a little less ruffled at that. “It’s just for today.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “You don’t think watching Grace will be too much for them, do you?” She’d lowered her voice so that it didn’t carry back to the kitchen.
He smiled. “They’ll be fine.” Then, wanting to reassure her further, he added, “And if it makes you feel better, Agnes worked as a nanny for some very prominent families in Boston for a number of years. I hear she was quite good at her job.”
Some of the tenseness left her shoulders. “That’s good to know.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I suppose you think I’m being foolish.”
“I’d never dare think such a thing,” he said with mock seriousness. He was pleased when his teasing added a little spark to her expression.
Cam took the hamper from her and offered her his arm. “The ground is slippery,” he said by way of explanation. “Ready?”
She nodded and took his arm. He could almost believe the no-nonsense Miss Murphy was suddenly shy. Almost.
They crossed to the wagon quickly, dodging puddles along the way. Cam made note of a number of maintenance issues that would need seeing to in the coming days.
He helped her climb onto the wagon and, once she was settled, handed up the hamper and then sprinted to the other side. As he took his own seat he saw her pull the coat more tightly around her. The sudden urge to draw her closer—to protect against the elements of course—surprised him.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry there’s no cover on this wagon. I’m afraid even with the coat you’ll be damp by the time we get to town.”
She didn’t seem concerned. “It appears to be letting up now. And a bit of soft weather won’t hurt me.”
“Soft weather?”
“Back in Ireland, when the weather turned all misty and damp, which was quite often, we’d say we were having a soft day.”
There was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were seeing her homeland in her mind. He flicked the reins, wordlessly directing the horse to turn the wagon back toward town. “Do you miss it much? Ireland I mean?” He kept his tone causal but he found himself tensing as he waited for her answer.
She seemed to consider his question a moment before speaking. “It’s my birthplace and I have a lot of fond memories of growing up there.” She grasped the seat on either side of her and leaned slightly forward. “Ireland will always be a part of who I am. But near the end of our time there, there was so much sorrow and pain, so much loss and uncertainty, that I’m grateful to be here and have this chance for a fresh start.”
She flashed him a smile so full of hope and promise that it took his breath away. “Only yesterday I was thinking how nice it was that this place—both Faith Glen and the cottage itself—already feels like home to me.”
Her words warmed him, made him sit up taller.
Not that he read anything special into them. He was merely glad to know his housekeeper was happy here.
Cam brushed that thought aside and changed the subject. “Oscar Platt over at the livery has a wagon and horse for sale that I think might be just right for you. He’ll have it ready for you to look at after lunch if that’s agreeable.”