Chapter Twenty-seven
Two days passed, with Emma back at her parents’ home and Finbarr at his, before word arrived that Eimear was doing well enough to return.
Emma was sitting with Sybil and Ivy, Sybil having just finished a story of some silly thing their group of friends had done earlier that year, when Emma had an idea.
“Eimear is returning home today. I think we should welcome her with a few treats and maybe some decorations. Perhaps Katie would play her fiddle, and we could dance. Eimear would love that.”
“Like a little céilí,” Ivy said, sitting up a little more alert. “Eimear loves the céilís.”
Emma nodded. “And after having felt so miserable this last week or more, I think it would do her spirits good. Likely Papa and Katie’s as well.”
Mrs. Paxton peeked her head in from the front entryway, broom in her hand. “Excellent idea, girls. I know a couple of little Eimear’s favorite treats. I suspect she’s lost a bit of weight, these fevers being like they are. Would do her good to have something rich and filling.”
In her usual direct but loving way, Mrs. Paxton moved with purposeful step back to the kitchen.
“That was easily arranged,” Ivy said with a laugh.
“If only we could so easily arrange to make certain Finbarr knows about our little céilí,” Sybil said with a hint of teasing in her voice. “He would come for sure. Who doesn’t love a céilí?”
“Finbarr doesn’t usually go to the town’s céilís,” Emma pointed out.
“I bet he will now.” Ivy shot Sybil a look that could only be described as mischievous. The two appeared to be plotting something.
“Why do I suspect you two are sharing some secret between yourselves?”
“It’s only a secret because you are so oblivious,” Sybil said with a smile.
“Oblivious to what?” Emma looked at the two of them.
Sybil gave her a dry look. “There’s something between you and Finbarr. Ivy and I are excited to see where it goes.”
Something between you and Finbarr. Emma forced her expression to remain unchanged. Not because she was shocked or didn’t believe them or didn’t want to believe them. But because she couldn’t believe them.
She was grateful Finbarr didn’t seem to hate her anymore.
She was grateful she could spend time with him without it tearing at her heart.
And she was beyond grateful that there was so much fondness between them now.
But they were both contemplating leaving Hope Springs, no matter their agreement to pretend for two weeks.
She couldn’t let herself imagine things that could never be. Her hopes had been dashed too many times before.
“He’s very kind to me,” she acknowledged. “And I’m glad we’ve found our way to being friends again.”
“Friends.” Ivy nodded slowly. “That’s what it is.”
Sybil tossed Emma a dry look that their entire group of friends knew all too well as one that clearly said “I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“We have a céilí to toss together very quickly,” Emma said. “I think we’d best focus on that rather than teasing me about something the two of you have imagined between yourselves.”
Though she could tell they weren’t truly distracted, Sybil and Ivy did throw themselves into the planning.
Sean loved the idea just as much as they did, and helped too.
They had a few decorations up, and Ivy had thought of a present for their little sister by the time they heard the front door open.
They all gathered in the parlor and watched for the arrival.
Papa stepped inside first, Eimear on his hip.
“Welcome home!” joined with “Welcome back!” and “Eimear’s returned!”
The warm reception brought a broad smile to Eimear’s noticeably gaunt face.
She really had lost weight during her bout of illness.
Little wonder Papa and Katie were so worried about her.
Papa had said this fever wasn’t as severe as others, and yet it had taken such a toll. Eimear’s eyes were still red as well.
“We’ve planned a céilí for you,” Sean said, bouncing with excitement.
Katie had arrived in the doorway directly behind Papa, carrying Finn. She smiled at them all, that soft tender smile Emma had come to depend on so much when she was little.
“A céilí, Mama!” Eimear said.
“What a wonderful thing.” Katie motioned Papa the rest of the way into the room.
Finbarr and Madra stepped into the doorway. Emma ignored the flip in her heart, and she very pointedly did not look at Ivy or Sybil, knowing the two of them would have looks of triumph on their faces.
“Finbarr, we’re having a céilí!” Eimear looked back at him.
“May I stay for your céilí, mo mhilis?”
Eimear nodded solemnly. “You have to.”
Finbarr shook his head as if it were a great shame. “I’m to be held hostage, am I?”
“There is delicious food and wonderful company,” Sybil said. “You will be the happiest hostage in the history of hostages.” Sybil crossed to him and set a hand on his arm, then pulled him further into the room. “But as a hostage, you have to sit down and accept your punishment.”
She pulled him all the way to the sofa, where Emma had just sat on one end with Ivy on the other. Sybil guided Finbarr right to the middle.
He would have no idea who was nearby.
“I’m on your left,” Emma said. “Ivy’s on your right.”
Finbarr turned a little toward her and silently mouthed, “Thank you.”
“But which of us are you happier to be sitting by?” Ivy barely finished the question before she started laughing. “I’m only kidding, Finbarr. I like seeing you panic.”
“Happiest hostage? I’m clearly being tortured.”
“Eimear, I have a gift for you. From all of us.” Ivy motioned her sister over.
Papa walked over, still carrying their little sister. Emma suspected he did so because she was weak.
“I want to sit with Finbarr,” Eimear said. “I sat with him at the last céilí.”
She was set on his lap. Emma didn’t think she needed to warn him about that as Eimear herself had essentially done so. Finbarr set his arms around the little girl. Madra was sitting at his feet.
Ivy held out a piece of parchment so Eimear could see it.
“It’s our house,” Eimear said with excitement.
“If you have to be away from the house again, you can take this with you and then you won’t feel so far away,” Ivy said.
Emma knew what it was to feel far away. She couldn’t look away from the sketch. Perhaps, Ivy would make one for her as well so she could take it with her when—No. For the remainder of the two weeks she’d agreed to, she would move forward as if she was staying.
And part of that was remembering how she was helping Finbarr.
She leaned a little bit closer. “It is a pencil sketch of this house. Ivy drew it.”
“I have heard from many people that Ivy is quite a talented artist,” Finbarr said. “One of the things I will likely always regret not being able to see.”
Oh, how she wanted to hug him, to wrap her arms around him. She hadn’t that right, and she didn’t dare take that risk, but hearing him speak so openly about the things he wished he wasn’t missing out on tugged at her heart. She knew that feeling. She knew it so well.
Eimear launched into a very detailed description of the drawing, clearly intent on making certain Finbarr knew exactly what it looked like. He listened intently and patiently. He held her so protectively, a perfect combination of a beloved uncle and a protective older brother.
How could Emma help falling in love with him?
He had been the focus of her first girlish bout of sheep’s eyes, so long ago.
That had changed over the years to admiration but had been punctuated by heartache as they’d struggled through the aftermath of the fire.
She’d hoped to simply one day be on good terms with him again.
Yet, here she was, fully in love once more, and not the childish love she’d once felt.
If he left for St. Louis, or she left for Baltimore, or both, her heart would shatter.
This was meant to be a happy gathering, and she was feeling a little melancholy. She wouldn’t put a damper on the family’s joy at Eimear’s recovery.
She stood and crossed to the spread of goodies Mrs. Paxton had prepared. “Thank you for all of this,” she said to Mrs. Paxton. “Eimear will feel so special, and she needs to know how much we love her.”
“Knowing that makes quite a difference, doesn’t it?”
Emma nodded.
There was a knock at the front door. Mrs. Paxton began to stand, but Emma motioned for her to stay. “I’m already on my feet, and I’m actually a little closer to the door than you are. Allow me to answer it.”
“I won’t say no. It’s nice to sit for a while.”
Emma stepped into the entryway and pulled open the door.
While she hadn’t any expectation of who would be on the other side, she was still somehow surprised to see Miss Groves there.
Truth be told, the teacher looked just as shocked to see Emma, which was strange since Emma actually lived there at the moment.
Miss Groves tipped her chin a little bit. “Is Mrs. Archer here? Or Mrs. Paxton?”
“Yes, but we’re having a family gathering, and I’d rather not pull either of them away if it’s not necessary. May I be of help?”
Miss Groves stepped in and passed her. “I can speak for myself.”
“I know that you can, but the family is—”
“Finbarr O’Connor is in there.” The teacher was standing near enough to the doorway to the parlor to see inside. “So it’s clearly not just family.”
“Finbarr O’Connor is family.”
“From what I hear, he spends more time here than you have these past years. Perhaps you’re the one who’s not family.”
It was a shocking and unexpected verbal slap. This woman was in every respect a stranger to her and yet undertook such a personal attack. Emma hadn’t the first idea what to say. She wasn’t certain she could have even if she thought of something.
Miss Groves stepped into the parlor and looked over the gathering. Emma hovered a bit behind.
The teacher crossed to Mrs. Paxton. “I’d hoped I might borrow two eggs.” Suddenly she was all kindness and humility. “I’ve been informed that I’m interrupting, but I promise I won’t do so for long.”
The housekeeper rose and motioned the teacher with her head toward the kitchen, and they left.
Emma attempted to put the encounter out of her mind long after the teacher had left and the family céilí got underway.
She tried to lose herself in the music, attempted to focus on the joy of knowing that Eimear had pulled through her bout of illness.
She tried to live in the momentary assumption that this would be her home.
But she couldn’t entirely.
She didn’t doubt Miss Groves had said what she did specifically to humble Emma and put her in her place, though why she felt it necessary Emma couldn’t begin to understand. Still, that wasn’t what bothered her the most.
Staying in Hope Springs would mean enduring the teacher’s apparently sharp tongue. And it would mean trying to make a home in a place that even this stranger knew wasn’t hers anymore.