Longing for Home (8 page)

Did she have any idea how intrigued he was by her?

“I wasn’t mocking in the least. Some of my favorite people are terribly stubborn. Ian’s wife, for example. If she hears you hid out here in the barn rather than accept her hospitality, she’ll skin you and me both alive for it.”

“
She
didn’t offer hospitality.
You
did.”

Stubborn woman. “It amounts to the same thing.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Her words shook a bit, but so did her very frame.

“You’re fair freezing.” He moved to take off his coat.

“You needn’t do that, Tavish.”

He nodded even as he pulled it off the rest of the way. “But I intend to just the same.” Tavish eyed her doubtfully. “The question remaining is whether or not you’re going to refuse it and sit there cold and wet and miserable or accept the offer graciously.”

“Stubborn I may be,” Katie said, “but I’d like to think I’m not stupid.”

He took that as encouragement and put his coat about her shoulders. He fully expected her to glare at him or act as though she despised him. What he hadn’t anticipated was the rush of tenderness he felt. He hardly knew her. Why would he feel anything beyond curiosity and, perhaps, a tug of compassion?

“Thank you for the coat.” She pulled it more firmly about her. “I haven’t a proper one of my own, and this is something of a merciless rain you’re having tonight.”

“Aye, that’s Wyoming for you. Weeks of dry nothingness followed by a downpour you can hardly abide.”

“That’s
Wyoming
?” Katie shook her head. “You’ve just described life itself, is what you’ve done.”

He knew that for a fact. “Ah, but that’s far too often true.”

Katie looked away from him. Uncomfortable with being in agreement with him, was she? Tavish wasn’t sure how to get around that, nor why he wanted to so much. Perhaps it was the challenge of a woman who’d decided so quickly to hate him.

“What do you say we make our way up to the house, Katie? I’ve a feeling you’re as hungry as I.”

“I don’t like being an imposition.”

What she didn’t like, he felt certain, was being noticed. “Then I suggest you come directly. The entire family’ll march out here to talk you into coming in if you insist on staying behind.”

She looked up at last. He made certain his face showed that he was fully serious about the family running her to ground. He’d rally them himself if need be.

“You don’t have to tell them I’m here,” she said with an uncertain hopefulness.

“Ah, but I do. I most certainly do.”

Surely she would see there was nothing for it but to give over. There was no way on God’s green earth he would leave her to spend the night in a barn. He’d not do that to any woman.

Some of her stubbornness slipped from her expression but not all. “Do you think they could find a few chores for me to do, in exchange for their kindness?”

She wished to work for her keep? An admirable trait, that. “If you’d like. There’s always plenty of work to go around.”

Katie nodded, apparently satisfied. “Then I suppose we’d best be on our way up to the house.”

He’d fully expected a long, drawn-out battle of wills. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

“Maybe I’m not as stubborn as you’ve accused me of being.” If not for the way her chin jutted out and her mouth pressed into a tight line, he might just have believed her.

“I’m certain you’re every bit as stubborn as I suspect you are.” He rose to his feet. “I’d offer you my hand, but I’ve a feeling you’d refuse.”

He nearly laughed out loud at the look of fierce independence that immediately entered her eyes.

“And now I’m being glared at.” Saints, but he would love to spend time with such a maddening woman as she seemed to be. Kept a man on his feet, she did. Gave him a challenge.

She stood, though not without effort. The cold, it seemed, had left her stiff. She took up her bag and shawl.

He grabbed his lantern and shotgun. “Shall we?”

Katie nodded. “But this doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Yet,” he added as he opened the barn door.

She stopped in the doorway. “I didn’t say
yet.
”

“Ah, but you meant it.” He motioned her the rest of the way through. “Out into the rain with you, you troublesome woman. We’ve a hot meal waiting for us.”

“You’re going to get wet without your coat,” Katie warned him.

“And well worth it, I assure you.”

Getting to know her better would be more than adequate compensation for a wee soaking. Indeed, he’d discovered one thing about her already: she responded better to a challenge than she did to a show of sympathy.

He stepped past her, calling back through the downpour. “Run like the banshee’s hot on your heels!”

Chapter Seven

Katie ran through the rain but not because Tavish said she ought to. She ran because it was the sensible thing to do.

He didn’t pause to so much as knock on his brother’s front door.

She hesitated. “You’re certain they’ll not mind?”

He stood, holding the door open, smiling as he ever did. “They’ll not mind.”

Katie took a long, deep breath, gathering her courage. For one who preferred keeping quietly to herself, she’d spent far too much of the day convincing strangers to keep her around. She’d be hard pressed to feel less welcome were she a three-legged horse in a speed race.

Just as ridiculous, she’d let this man with his teasing smiles and twinkling eyes see her on the verge of tears, hurting and frightened. Showing such weakness scared her more than she cared to admit. She vowed to herself as she stood on the porch that Tavish O’Connor wouldn’t see another crack in her walls again.

“You’re letting in the rain, Sweet Katie.”

She was indeed. Katie slipped in, taking up a position directly beside the door. She’d stay out of the way until she could figure out what to do with herself. A quick and careful study of the small room revealed two children, a boy and a girl, and a woman stirring the contents of an iron pot in the fireplace. Ian and Finbarr O’Connor stood over an upturned chair they appeared to be mending, not paying the least heed to their brother’s return.

“You should have been back quite some time ago,” the woman said. “What kept you so—”

The words stopped abruptly as her eyes settled on Katie. Surprise and curiosity filled their depths. The woman, either Ian’s wife or the family’s hired help, was likely not much older than Katie was, perhaps nearing thirty, with hair a vibrant nut-brown.

The woman’s gaze shifted to Tavish. She indicated Katie with a nod of her head. “Something you found blowing about in the storm?”

“Aye. The heavens blew her right to me, they did.”

“Sounds like a sign from above to me.” The woman tapped her wooden spoon on the edge of the iron pot she tended before replacing the lid. “I’ll send Ian out for the preacher. We’ll have the two of you married before the stew’s done cooking.”

Married?
Katie eyed the woman, relieved to see a glint of teasing in her eyes.

“I’d be much obliged to you, Biddy.” Tavish’s tone of gratitude was far too overdone. “Though Miss Macauley, here, might object.”

Biddy. She felt certain that was the name of Ian’s wife.

Katie brushed at a drip of water hovering on the tip of her nose. She didn’t care to be stared at when in fine form, let alone standing drenched to her very skin, in boots and a dress covered in mud.

“Miss Macauley, is it?”

Mrs. O’Connor seemed happy at the thought. An uninvited stranger stood dripping water and mud on her floors, and she found this a pleasing turn of events? What was the matter with these O’Connors? Were they all daft?

“I’ve heard more than a little about you since the men returned from their trip,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “I’m pleased to have you drop in on us.”

Ian spoke up, his tone not so light as his wife’s. “What brings you out in this weather? Is something wrong up at Archers’?”

Katie shook her head. Shivers and nerves and exhaustion all joined forces to keep her mum. No words would come.

Ian abandoned his project and moved with determination toward the door. “Joseph wouldn’t send a person out in a storm for any small thing.”

A bubble of dismay surfaced in her. She’d caused trouble again. But how to stop Ian from rushing into the rain himself and bothering the Archers?

Tavish managed the thing with only two words. “Joseph’s fine.”

Ian halted on the spot. “You know it for a fact?”

“Like a priest knows his prayers.”

The children were still watching Katie. She tried to smile at them but knew the effort fell flat. Finbarr’s eyes were on her as well. And Ian’s. And Tavish’s. She clasped her hands in front of her, the only thing that ever truly stopped her from fussing with them. She dropped her gaze to the muddied toes of her battered shoes. If she couldn’t see them studying her, she might manage to convince herself they weren’t.

Ian at last broke the silence. “Then why is Miss—”

“Your questions can wait, dear,” Mrs. O’Connor interrupted. “The poor woman’s teeth are chattering louder than a town full of gossips. Let her dry off and warm up, will you?”

Though she didn’t look up properly, Katie saw Mrs. O’Connor cross to where she stood. Why hadn’t Tavish let her remain in the barn? ’Twas quiet in there, and no one need be bothered by her. Bothersome man. How had he talked her into this?

“Won’t you come sit near the fire?” Mrs. O’Connor asked. “Fetch her a quilt from the chest, will you, Tavish?” She laid a hand on her husband’s arm, addressing her next request to him. “You and Finbarr set back to your repairing. I can see to Miss Macauley.”

The room was quite suddenly in motion once more. The children returned to their book and toys. Tavish crossed to a cedar chest on the far side of the fireplace. Ian and Finbarr took up their tools.

“’Twasn’t my intention to disrupt your evening, Mrs. O’Connor. I only wished a moment free from the rain and lightning. If you’ve a back porch or a corner that’d be out of your way, I’d be quite content standing there until the storm passes.”

Mrs. O’Connor’s eyes widened. Though Katie couldn’t be certain, she thought a hint of tears shone in the woman’s eyes. What had she done to cause such distress? She inched further in the direction of the door, trying to think of an excuse to slip out.

“Saints, but you sound like home,” Mrs. O’Connor whispered.

“I told you my very self she was only just tossed off the boat.” Tavish turned back toward them, a quilt in shades of brown and green folded over his arm. “Why is it you never believe a word coming out of my mouth?”

Mrs. O’Connor tipped him a look of exasperation. “It’s not as though you’re regularly giving me reason to believe the words coming out of your mouth, now is it? One never knows with you if you’re joking or being serious.” She shifted her gaze from Tavish to Katie and smiled kindly at her, though doing so didn’t set Katie’s mind at ease. “Come the rest of the way in, now. The air’s far warmer near the fire.”

Katie kept right where she was. “If not for Tavish being so infernally bossy, I’d have stayed out of your way entirely.”

“‘Infernally bossy.’” Mrs. O’Connor smiled broadly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him described so perfectly.”

Tavish shook his head but didn’t seem offended.

“Come on now.” Mrs. O’Connor motioned her over again.

“I’m not meaning to put you out at all, only to wait for the rain to pass.”

“Oh, and I suppose the storm’ll pass faster if you martyr yourself in the coldest corner of the house?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

Tavish crossed back to them. “You’d best give over, Sweet Katie. The only woman I’ve ever known who could beat Biddy for stubbornness was my own mother, and that is saying something.”

From across the room, Ian tossed out a remark of his own. “Keep on standing there insulting both my mother and my sweetheart, and I’ll see to it you don’t eat tonight, brother.”

The jab didn’t seem to affect Tavish in the least. He held the blanket out to Katie. She slipped off his coat and traded him for it. Their hands brushed. The tiny moment of contact sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with how cold she was.

Oh no you don’t, Katie Macauley. There’ll be none of that.

She snatched her hands back quickly. “I thank you for the blanket.” She spoke in her most freezing tones.

Tavish raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Mrs. O’Connor eyed her with concern. “I’ve a feeling that quilt won’t be enough, even with the fire. What you need is a fresh change of clothes.”

Her other two dresses were in her carpetbag, likely near as soaked as the one she had on.

“I can lend her my clothes,” Tavish said, his tone thoughtful to the point of drama. “Of course, I’d have nothing to wear then, myself.”

Katie refused to blush at that comment. Indeed, she set herself quite firmly on ignoring it.

Mrs. O’Connor rolled her eyes, something Katie had rarely seen a grown person do. The childlike gesture made Katie smile inside despite the awful day she was having.

“Miss Macauley’s been through enough tonight without being subjected to that,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “You leave your clothes on and quit trying to embarrass the poor thing.”