Chapter Eleven
Madra’s tail thumped the Archers’ porch in rhythm with Finbarr’s knock on the door.
“Don’t get too excited, Madra. We might not get to meet the baby yet.” He hoped he could. The Archer family was family to him, despite the rough years that had followed the fire.
The door creaked ever so slightly, enough for him to know it was opened.
“Finbarr. I knew you would come by.” That was Ivy. She was about the only person who had never sounded unhappy to be with him, even when he’d been so miserable that he’d lashed out at everyone.
“If Katie’s not ready for a visitor yet, I can—”
“She said herself that she’d be very surprised if you didn’t knock at the door before the day’s end.”
“Am I that predictable?”
“Dependable,” she said. “There’s a difference.”
He furrowed his brow as if pondering deeply. “Dependable. Would I rather be dependable or predictable? Which do—”
“Clam up, Finbarr.” She answered with the same declaration and the same laugh that she always did when he rambled on like that.
It was a well-established joke between the two of them, a nod to the teasing sibling-like connection they’d had when she was a little girl.
She was fifteen now, which was difficult to remember sometimes.
“Would you like me to shut my gob out here or inside the house?”
“I’d like Madra to come inside.” Ivy’s voice held a shrug somehow. “Since she won’t abandon you, I suppose you’ll have to come inside too.”
“What a saint you are for putting up with me.”
“The first thing out of your mouth wasn’t, ‘Is Emma here?’ so I’m happy to put up with you.”
“Did you expect that to be the first thing I said?”
“It’s the first thing all the boys who come here say. Except Rigger; he asks for Sean. So, I put up with him too.”
“Well, I haven’t come by to visit Emma.” She’d made perfectly clear that she didn’t want to see him, and he would honor that preference. “I want to meet the newest little Archer.”
“You didn’t come to meet me?” A woman’s voice, but one he didn’t recognize. “Should I be offended, Ivy?” Her accent sounded a lot like Joseph’s. From back East, then. Likely Baltimore, which settled that mystery.
“Miss Dedrick. It’s good to finally make your acquaintance.”
“How’d he do that, Ivy?”
“He doesn’t have to see us to know who he’s talking to.
He knows most of our voices. He can tell when a woman’s walking around because our dresses make a dress noise.
” Ivy knew all this. She, unlike so many others in Hope Springs, had never been afraid to bluntly ask him about his blindness.
That had been difficult at first, but he’d been grateful for it in the long run.
“But I wasn’t walking, and we’ve never met.” Miss Dedrick didn’t sound offended nor mocking. She seemed genuinely curious. “How did you sort out who I am, Finbarr O’Connor?”
“I didn’t recognize your voice, so you’re not from Hope Springs. And you talk a lot like Joseph, so I guessed you were from Baltimore.” And hers wasn’t the voice of his River Lady, so she wasn’t the teacher.
“Impressive.”
“A necessity, Miss Dedrick.”
“Call me Sybil, please.”
He nodded.
“How do you suppose she sorted out who you are, Finbarr?” Ivy asked, mischief dripping from her words.
“Madra,” Finbarr said quite earnestly. “The dog gives me away every time.”
“Or maybe it’s your red hair,” Sybil said, sounding every bit as mischievous as Ivy.
Ten years ago, he would have struggled with the teasing. Finbarr was well aware that he was immediately identifiable because his face was scarred from the fire and he was very obviously blind.
“A few people in Hope Springs have red hair,” Finbarr warned. “Better check for the dog before assuming any of them are me.”
“Emma didn’t tell me you were funny.” Sybil sounded both intrigued and amused.
What had Emma said about him? He was a little afraid of the answer. Another more pressing question jumped to the forefront of his thoughts. “I haven’t heard anyone else in the room, but I can’t be certain. Am I ignoring anyone?”
“Mrs. Paxton’s in the kitchen,” Ivy said. “Pompah’s upstairs with Katie and Eimear and the baby. Emma’s helping up at the school, which is also where Sean is.”
Emma was at the school. Finbarr hated that that was a relief.
“I don’t want to interrupt your family’s entire day,” he said. “I’ll make this a quick visit.”
It was testament to how far he’d come in repairing his connection with the Archer family these past years that he knew himself welcome to go upstairs on his own without needing Ivy with him.
It wasn’t a matter of worrying that he’d get lost—he’d become a dab hand at navigating places that he knew well—but rather of not being entirely welcome or trusted.
He’d regained that. With every Archer except Emma.
At the top of the stairs, Madra’s tail started wagging exuberantly. They walked together down the hallway in the direction of Joseph and Katie’s room. Madra let out the tiniest but most excited little yip, a sound she didn’t often make.
“Well, they’ll know we’re coming, won’t they?”
An instant later, that guess was proven correct.
Joseph’s voice reached him from not far ahead. “The whole family agreed you would likely be here today.”
The whole family. Including Emma?
“I couldn’t wait any longer to meet the newest little Archer,” Finbarr said.
“Come on inside,” Joseph said. “We’re excited to make the introductions.”
The bedroom was more brightly lit than the hallway, but Finbarr still couldn’t make anything out. He wouldn’t be able to see the baby, but he’d learned over the years, holding his nieces and nephews, that he didn’t have to see a newly arrived child to love holding it.
“Finbarr! We knew you’d come by today.” Katie likely didn’t realize she was not at all the first person in this house to tell him that.
“It took all the self-control I had not to burst in on all of you yesterday.”
“You should have,” Joseph said.
Finbarr shook his head. “That was family time.”
“You are family,” Katie said firmly.
“I don’t know about that,” he muttered. Recollecting himself, he spoke in full voice once more. “Now, where is this baby I’m hearing so much about?”
Joseph’s footsteps sounded as a shadow crossed in front of Finbarr. A moment later, that shadow settled on him.
Finbarr crooked his right arm, ready for the baby to be set in it.
“He’s awake, but not fussy,” Joseph said.
“A boy.” The little bundle rested warm and soft on his arm. Finbarr tucked the baby closer. “Tell me all about him.”
“He’s small, but Maura and Dr. Jones both insist he’s perfectly healthy,” Katie said. “He doesn’t sleep much.”
“My condolences to you both.”
Katie and Joseph laughed. Madra’s tail thwacked his leg in a rhythm of excitement.
“Who does the baby look like?”
“The family is in agreement,” Joseph said, “that he is a very lovely mixture of Katie and Emma.”
Finbarr couldn’t entirely picture it. A decade of not seeing any faces had made even those he’d once seen every single day frustratingly less detailed in his memory. His precious bundle wriggled more and made a sound of objection.
“Are you bored, then?” Finbarr asked. “Good thing I’ve brought you something.”
With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the rattle he’d been carving in anticipation of just this moment.
He held it up where he thought the baby would be likely to see it, and he gave it a little shake, just enough for a very soft bit of noise.
The baby’s fussy sounds changed to coos on the instant.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t look horrified.”
“He looks fascinated,” Joseph said.
“Finbarr, that rattle is beautiful,” Katie said.
“I brought it as a gift for the baby. I’ll leave it with you when I go.”
“Looks like the same carver as the things at the depot,” Joseph said. “Same one who carved the Trinity knot I brought back for you, Katie.”
Finbarr had wondered if any of the Irish in Hope Springs would purchase that particular item. He liked knowing it was somewhere in this house.
“Finbarr! You’re here!” Eimear’s sweet little voice declared from the doorway. “And Madra!”
“We’ve come to meet your little brother, mo mhilis.”
“He doesn’t sleep as much as Papa hoped he would.” Eimear’s voice placed her likely directly beside Madra, no doubt hugging and petting the very patient dog.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Have you heard what his name is?” Eimear asked.
Finbarr laughed the tiniest bit. “Do you know? I didn’t even think to ask.” He turned his face in the direction of Joseph and Katie. “What is it you’ve decided on for this wee one? An Irish name, I’d guess.”
“Definitely Irish,” Joseph said. “We have named him Finn.”
“Finn?” An unintended crack in Finbarr’s voice broke the single syllable into two. “Is that a—A family name?” Perhaps Katie had a brother or cousin or someone.
“It’s a nod to your name, you ridiculous lad,” Katie said. “And you’re family, as I’ve said once already just today.”
Finn. They’d named the baby for him?
“I’ve been amazed by the Archers’ willingness to forgive me these past years, but I can’t say I’ve made amends worthy of—”
“Katie looks ready to either shake you or belt you,” Joseph said, an amused warning in his voice. “I’ll leave little Finn in your arms, since she’s less likely to bloody your nose with her son so nearby. But you still shouldn’t push your luck by arguing about this.”
He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even certain there was a fitting thing to say.
Nine years earlier, when he’d lashed out at Emma and fractured a connection that meant the world to him, he’d been crushed by the realization that he might never regain his closeness with the Archer family.
It meant the world to him that he had. And it gave him hope that he might manage to mend things a little with Emma as well, assuming she ever spoke to him again.