Chapter Five
Emma heard the music before she heard the voices. Even in her darkest times in Hope Springs, the music at the céilís had lifted her heavy heart.
It wasn’t helping now.
“Why do you look like you are being marched to your death?” Sybil asked, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “Is ‘céilí’ the Irish word for ‘a wake’?”
“I’m nervous.” Excruciatingly so, in fact.
“About what?”
“Being here again. Seeing my family.”
“Why would that make you nervous?”
“What if—” Her breath shook. “What if they’re not happy to see me? What if they’re frustrated that I’m disrupting their lives?” She didn’t even know if they were the ones who’d asked her to come. “What if they don’t want me here?”
“For someone who received higher marks than every person we knew at Baltimore Female College in every single subject, you are sometimes shockingly thick.” Sybil eyed her as they walked on. “I have spent time with your family, and I can say with conviction that they will be delighted to see you.”
“I—” She swallowed down the explanation. Though Sybil was her dearest friend, she wasn’t ready to spill everything that rested on her heart.
Emma had been away from Hope Springs for five years, and her family’s lives had gone on without her.
She knew they were happy and couldn’t be entirely certain that her unplanned temporary return wouldn’t undermine that.
They didn’t have to be overjoyed that she was there—she wasn’t overjoyed to be in Hope Springs—but she couldn’t bear for them to be irritated at her arrival, or worse: indifferent.
They reached the inn yard long before Emma was ready. People filled the space, talking and laughing against a backdrop of music. Everything about the scene was both familiar and foreign.
She was trembling, nervousness literally shaking her to her core. I cannot believe I am back here again.
“This is a larger gathering than I expected.” Sybil said, glancing around. “I wouldn’t have guessed this many people lived in Hope Springs.”
“The farms spread out from town,” Emma said, trying to keep her voice steady by focusing on the logistics of the valley rather than the feeling of being surrounded by so many ghosts from her past. “There are ranches at the edges of the valley.”
“This weekly party must be about the only time people see each other if they live so far apart.”
Emma nodded. “It is a highlight for the town, and it was an important part of healing some of the rifts in town when—” She took a quick breath. “Years ago.”
They were weaving through the people now. No one was looking too closely at her, and no one seemed to recognize her.
“This tune is very jaunty,” Sybil said.
“Most of them are.” Emma actually wasn’t paying enough heed to evaluate the current tune. She was anxiously searching the crowd for her family. They were there somewhere.
“And the food smells divine.”
Emma nodded, studying the faces around them.
Mr. Scott. Mrs. Hall. Off in the distance, the gathered musicians were nearly all familiar to her.
She was certain she saw Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
The sight of them, as always, brought memories of poor Marianne and the agony of the day she’d died.
Emma pulled her gaze away, but her eyes fell on Ian O’Connor, whose resemblance to Finbarr kept the fire fresh in her mind.
She looked away. But that brought her gaze to an achingly familiar and beloved face.
Papa.
Her lungs hitched and her heart simply seized.
He had been her rock through the storms of life, and there had been far too many of them.
Having him nearby had been, at times, the only thing that had kept her going.
He was the reason she’d stayed in Hope Springs as long as she had no matter that being here had been crushing her.
And leaving him had utterly shattered her heart.
Had he missed her?
Would he be happy to see her?
He was a very reserved person, calm and not overly expressive. She reminded herself of that so she wouldn’t be disappointed if he seemed a little apathetic.
Papa’s head turned ever so slightly in her direction. His eyes flitted past her. Then darted back.
Emma froze in place, watching him. Waiting. Oh, Papa.
Then he did something she had never seen him do before. He pushed people out of his way, parting the crowd as he moved swiftly toward her. Was he angry? She hadn’t anticipated that possibility. He might not want her there at all. He might demand she leave. He might—
He pulled her into his arms. “My Emma.”
“Papa.” Her voice quivered with a surge of fierce emotion. A hot tear escaped her eye.
I don’t want to be here. It’s heavy, and it hurts.
Please don’t let go.
“When did you arrive, Emma?” It was Katie’s voice, standing somewhere behind her.
“On today’s stage,” Emma said, still in her papa’s embrace.
“You didn’t send word,” Katie said.
Emma leaned back and looked up at her papa. “Don’t be angry with me.”
“Angry?” He pulled her close again. “Why would I be angry?”
She breathed more easily than she had since leaving Baltimore, likely since the last time her family had visited her there.
“I’ll be angry, Joseph, if you don’t allow me to hug our Emma,” Katie said with the tender fierceness that had endeared her to them years ago.
Emma was spun around. Katie smiled at her, before hugging her. Katie’s very rounded belly pressed against her.
“Our darling girl,” Katie whispered.
Emma had hoped to be welcomed this way, had wanted to believe that her family would be at least somewhat happy to see her. But she’d doubted it. Hope Springs always made her doubt.
“Emma!”
She turned at the sound of a child’s voice and all but gasped. “Sean.” Her little brother threw his arms around her. “Good heavens, you are so much bigger than when I last saw you.”
“I’m eight years old now,” he said quite matter of fact.
Papa stood close still, but now holding five-year-old Eimear. The little girl watched her with uneasy confusion.
“Your sister’s here, Eimear,” Katie said, keeping an arm around Emma’s shoulders.
“My sister is Ivy.” Eimear looked entirely bewildered. She didn’t know who Emma was. It was understandable, even expected, but it still broke Emma’s heart.
“Emma is also your sister,” Papa said.
Eimear looked up at him. “Why?”
“Because I’m your papa and I’m Emma’s papa, and that makes you sisters.”
Eimear smiled broadly at him. “You are my papa.”
He smiled back. That smile held Emma’s gaze. She’d noticed during his visits to Baltimore that he smiled more than he used to, especially when interacting with Sean and Eimear. Katie brought out a tender smile in him. Ivy made him laugh.
I don’t make him smile or laugh or look happy. She tried to shake that off.
“Rigger!” Sean called out into the crowd hovering around. “My sister Emma’s here.”
A little boy his same age hopped over to them. He looked like an O’Connor, though Emma couldn’t place him among them. She’d been away too long.
“There’s berry tarts.” Rigger grabbed Sean’s hand and pulled him away.
“Abandoned for berry tarts.” Sybil’s laughing comment reminded Emma that she was there. “They must be delicious.”
“Miss Dedrick.” Katie reached out a hand to her. “You’ve come as well.”
“I couldn’t let Emma make the journey alone, now, could I?”
Emma met Papa’s eye, nervous again. “Do you suppose there is room?”
He nodded. “Plenty of room.”
“Ivy might disagree,” Emma said. “Our room was often . . . crowded when it was only the two of us. With Eimear and Sean—”
“Oh, will you be surprised,” Katie said with a little laugh.
“Surprised?”
Katie smiled broadly, an exact replica of Eimear’s smile. “There’ll be plenty of room.”
“Have you built on to the house?”
“And built another little house for the new school teacher.”
“There’s a new school teacher?”
Katie nodded. “She arrived on the stage two days ago. Our second attempt to secure one this year.”
So much had changed. And was still changing.
Was it possible that Hope Springs would be different enough that it wouldn’t be as painful?
But, then again, there was some ache in seeing evidence that a place had moved on without someone who’d once called it home.
Her feelings for Hope Springs were so complicated.
“I, for one,” Sybil said, “am excited to see Ivy again. I don’t know if there is anyone in all the world who makes me laugh as much as she does.”
Your sister needs you.
Would Ivy be drastically different than Emma remembered? A quick glance at Papa and Katie didn’t reveal any concern. Neither seemed to feel any significance in Ivy being reunited with Emma. Did that mean neither of them had sent the telegram? Or were they simply hiding their interest?
“Ivy browbeat Aidan into dancing with her,” Katie said. “I imagine we’ll see her as soon as this tune is ended.”
Aidan O’Connor. He’d always been very kind. And, when he’d first moved to Hope Springs and she’d doted on him a little, he’d never been impatient or mocked her for it. That, at least, was a pleasant memory.
Papa moved closer to her once more and put his free arm around her, squeezing her. “While I do wish you’d told us you were coming so I could have arranged for your journey to be more comfortable, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you’re here.”
“You had no inkling I was coming?”
He shook his head. “None whatsoever.”
It seemed, then, Papa hadn’t sent the telegram. Katie also seemed surprised. Everyone seemed surprised.
The tune ended. People who had been dancing wove back through the crowd of those who hadn’t been. An instant later, Ivy was standing not a foot away, staring at her wide eyed. Emma hadn’t seen her sister in a year, but she somehow seemed even more than a year older.
“Surprised?” Emma couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Ivy, never one to miss a chance to be dramatic, frowned ferociously and stormed off.
Papa and Katie sighed in near-perfect unison. They looked at each other.
“I think it is my turn,” Katie said.
“I wish you the best of luck,” Papa said dryly.
Katie followed Ivy’s path.
Emma turned toward Sybil, and found her entirely distracted by something. Following her friend’s gaze, Emma knew immediately what that something was.
Aidan O’Connor. He’d grown up. And he was stunning.
“Miss Emma,” he said, smiling at her. “Welcome home.”
Home. He managed to almost make that sound true.
“Are you going to introduce me, Emma?” Sybil asked out of the side of her mouth.
“Sybil, this is Aidan O’Connor, who lives here in Hope Springs. Aidan, this is my dear friend Sybil Dedrick, from Baltimore.”
“O’Connor.” Sybil had a very particular smile she produced when she was pretending not to flirt. It made an appearance just then. “I understand there are quite a few O’Connors in Hope Springs.”
“Some might say too many.” Aidan didn’t look offended.
Emma couldn’t remember ever seeing him look affronted, truth be told.
“I have only heard good things about your family,” Sybil said.
Aidan’s eyes returned to Emma. “You’ve been selective in your stories, then?” There was a teasing hint to his tone that managed to actually put her a little at ease, something she didn’t think was possible in Hope Springs.
“I’m fond of the O’Connors. Most of them, at least.” She pretended to be referring to him.
His smile grew. He had an incredibly handsome smile. She remembered it being nice and, when she was younger, having some heart flutters at the sight of it. She was enjoying seeing it again now.
“Friends!” A bubble of memory spread in Emma’s chest at hearing Seamus Kelly. From the time they’d begun attending the céilís ten years earlier, his voice had boomed over the weekly gatherings.
“We’ve three newcomers to welcome tonight—two to welcome and one to welcome back,” he corrected. “And I think the musicians’ve chosen the perfect tune to do so with.”
Three. Emma and Sybil and, she would guess, the new school teacher.
Emma leaned a little closer to Sybil. Her friend wouldn’t understand what came next without some explanation. “The new arrivals lead the town in a dance, choosing someone from the crowd to dance with. It’s tradition.”
“We get to choose who to dance with?” Sybil clearly liked the idea.
Emma nodded.
Never shy or demurring, Sybil turned immediately to Aidan. “Care to be my welcome-dance partner?”
“It’s also tradition that we’re not allowed to say no.”
“How friendly,” Sybil said dryly, but with a laugh in her expression.
Sybil walked with Aidan toward the open area where the dancing happened.
“I think your friend might have stolen your dance partner,” Papa said, still standing next to her.
Emma looked up at him. “No, Papa. I want to dance with you.”
“I would be honored.” There was the very dignified and steadfast Papa she’d depended on so entirely and missed so fiercely the past five years.
He handed Eimear to Biddy O’Connor, then walked with Emma to the dancing area.
“I’m glad you’ve returned, Emma,” Papa said, taking her hand. “For however long you’re here.”
Two weeks. When standing with her papa, two weeks felt like only two. But looking out over the crowd and feeling the painful familiarity of this place, she didn’t know how she could possibly endure being here so long.