Hope Springs

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Eden, Sarah M., author.
Hope Springs / Sarah M. Eden.
pages cm—(Longing for home ; book 2)
Summary: Irish-born Kate Macauley is caught in the feud that is raging between the American farmers and the Irish immigrants in the small Wyoming town of Hope Springs. She is also torn between loving two very different men.
ISBN 978-1-60907-810-2 (paperbound)
1. Irish American women—Fiction. 2. Nativism—Fiction. 3. Wyoming, setting. 4. Nineteenth century, setting. I. Title. II. Series: Eden, Sarah M. Longing for home ; bk. 2.
PS3605.D45365H67 2014
813'.6—dc232013033356
Printed in the United States of America
Publisher’s Printing, Salt Lake City, UT
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To Lois, Sarah Elva, Dora, Zelda, Barbara, and Ginny

Women of faith and determination,
who have shown me what it means
to be good and to be strong

Other Proper Romances

Longing for Home

by Sarah M. Eden

Edenbrooke

by Julianne Donaldson

Blackmoore

by Julianne Donaldson

Chapter One

However fine the day, night must eventually fall. Katie Macauley knew that truth well. For every bit of joy she’d known, life had served her an ever-increasing portion of pain and grief. Her Irish heart was just stubborn enough to keep going despite it all and just foolish enough to believe someday the balance would tip in her favor.

Finding a home amongst her displaced countrymen in a tiny town far from nowhere in the dry and unforgiving vastness of the American West seemed a fine argument in favor of optimism. Logic told her the odds of that happening were far too slim to be anything but a gift of fate. And yet the town of Hope Springs wasn’t without its problems—it had a great many problems, in fact.

“Michael, bring the butter crock, lad. We’re eating without your father if he’s not here in another five minutes.” Biddy, Katie’s dearest friend in all the world, gave her a look of utter exasperation.

Katie set out the last of the dinner plates. She’d been invited to have her evening meal with Biddy and her family, an offer she appreciated more than any of them realized. Though she worked for a family who treated her with kindness and had the heart of a wonderful man—Biddy’s brother-in-law, in fact—she often felt alone.

“Put the spoon in the colcannon, Mary,” Biddy told her little girl. “Then fetch the soda bread, if you will.”

Colcannon and soda bread.
’Twas a bit of the Emerald Isle thousands of miles from Ireland.

Biddy crossed to the narrow front window.

Katie joined her there, looking out at the dimming light of dusk.

“Never fear, Biddy. Tavish’ll round Ian up and bring him home to make his apologies.”

“And not a moment too soon, it seems.” Biddy looked back toward the rough-hewn table, where little Mary was carefully setting down the plate of soda bread. “Thank you, love. Now you and Michael go wash your hands.”

“With soap?” Mary clearly hoped the answer was no.

“Aye. Soap, and plenty of it.” Biddy eyed both her children. “On with the two of you, then.” She shook her head at their retreating backs. “I swear to you, Katie, they’d eat out in the muddy fields if I’d let them.”

“And return to the house so filthy you could toss them against a wall and they’d stick,” Katie added.

Biddy smiled, as Katie had hoped she would. But just as quickly as the lightness appeared, it faded. She set one hand on her hip and rubbed her forehead with the other. Her gaze lingered at the window.

“I am certain all’s well.” Katie spoke with all the conviction she could muster, but Biddy’s worries were beginning to settle heavy on her as well. Tavish had left over an hour earlier and could easily have gone to town and back in that time.

As if making a finely timed entrance, the turning of wagon wheels and the pounding of hooves sounded from the yard.

“At last,” Biddy breathed and made her way to the door. She pulled it open. “The two of you had best—” Biddy’s eyes opened in shock, her words ending abruptly.

Katie moved swiftly to the doorway. Tavish was climbing over the back of the wagon bench to the bed. She was certain it was the look on his face that had silenced Biddy. His mouth was drawn in a tense line, his eyes snapping with something very much like anger, and also a great deal of fear.

“What’s happened?” Katie called out.

“Come help me,” he answered. “Quick, Katie.”

Biddy stepped out with her.

“Just Katie.” Tavish’s voice was insistent, sharp almost. Katie had seldom heard Tavish sound anything but jovial.

“Something’s happened, Katie,” Biddy whispered. “Something bad.”

Katie gave her hand a quick, and she hoped reassuring, squeeze. She too sensed the tension in Tavish. “I am sure all will be fine.” She didn’t fully believe it, but could think of nothing else to say.

Alone she moved quickly over the short distance to the waiting wagon. Tavish had made his way to the back and offered a hand to help her up.

“What’s happened?” she asked again, her voice low.

Ian was nowhere to be seen. The wagon was empty except for a few crates and a messy pile of blankets.

“Why’ve you returned without Ian?”

“I haven’t.” He spoke too solemnly for Katie’s peace of mind.

Tavish took hold of the nearest corner of the blanket and tossed it back.

Heavens above.
’Twas Ian beneath the blanket. Ian, bloodied and bruised and unmoving. Katie’s very breath rushed from her.
Saints preserve us.

“Keep calm, Sweet Katie. Biddy’ll need you to be strong.”

Katie struggled to find air enough to speak. “Is he dead?” she whispered.

“He was still breathing when I found him. But he’s in a bad way.”

He was, indeed. The man’s face was swollen, discolored. She’d never seen anyone lie so utterly still. “Had he an accident with the wagon, or was he thrown from a horse or something?”

Tavish shook his head. The man generally wore smiles with mirthful twinkles in his deep blue eyes. Katie was not at all accustomed to seeing him somber.

“I’d wager my entire farm he was set upon by a mob.”

Katie’s heart fell clear to her feet. “A mob? Good heavens. Who’d do such a thing?”

And yet, she knew the answer. Hope Springs was ten years deep in a feud. Half the town was Irish. The other half hated the Irish with a passion. So, the Irish had opted to return the sentiment and hate their neighbors with equal fervor.

She set her hand lightly at Ian’s heart. His chest rose and fell faintly, as though his breath was hardly there. “I’m worried for him, Tavish.”

“And it’s right you should be. He needs doctoring.”

Katie glanced quickly at the doorway. Little Mary and Michael had joined their mother. The three of them looked on with fearful expressions.

Merciful heavens.
Someone had beaten the father of these children to within an inch of his life. Beyond, perhaps.

“How bad is this feud likely to become?”

He set his hand lightly on her arm, his eyes heavy with worry. “Oh, Sweet Katie, this is only the beginning.”

She pushed out a tense breath. Her eyes settled on Ian once more. “What do you need me to do, Tavish?”

“I can carry Ian in. But I’m worried for Biddy. Stick close to her side, Katie. Keep her going. And the children will need you as well.”

Katie nodded. She slid to the back of the wagon and climbed down.
Keep calm, Katie. Your friends need you.

She walked to where Biddy stood, watching with wide eyes.

“Michael,” Katie said, “take your sister inside.”

The lad must have sensed the urgency of the situation because he obeyed without hesitation.

“Katie?” Biddy whispered.

Katie took her hands. “Ian’s been terribly injured. He’s in a bad way.”

Biddy’s eyes darted to the wagon. Katie looked back as well. Tavish slowly walked toward them, struggling under the weight of Ian in his arms.

“Merciful heavens.” Biddy’s voice cracked with panicked emotion. “My Ian!”

She rushed down the porch step and toward her husband’s limp frame.

“Ian. Talk to me, please, dearest. Please, Ian.” Her voice shook as she pleaded with him. “Ian, darling. Ian?”

“Biddy, I have to lay him down,” Tavish pleaded, attempting to continue toward the house despite Biddy blocking his path.

Katie put an arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulled her out of the way. Biddy continued calling her husband’s name, the word growing more indistinguishable as sobs racked her body. She fought to be freed of Katie’s hold. But Tavish needed an unobstructed path into the house.

Katie walked with Biddy, swiftly, behind Tavish. But one step inside, Biddy’s knees gave way. She crumbled, burying her face in her hands.

Katie knelt and wrapped her arms around Biddy.

“We’ll do all we can for him,” she promised.

“I can’t lose him, Katie. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t live without him.”

Katie held her even closer, her heart breaking. How quickly everything had changed.