Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“Of course ye can. Nate’s a strong lad, and I’m thinking he might enjoy helping out in the stables. We have horses that are always looking for someone to feed them apples and carrots.”
“I could, Mum, but only if you think so,” Nate said.
“Oh, but I—”
“You said yourself that we’d have to leave our cottage anyway, since we cannot afford the rent.”
Before Mrs. Pritchard could speak, Flaherty asked, “And yer da really is lost, Nate?”
“Aye.”
“Lost, is it?” Dillon asked.
“At sea?” Rory added.
Mrs. Pritchard sighed. “Aye, two years ago, the ship he was on ran aground in a storm. Every man on board died.”
“Wreckers,” Flaherty murmured. “Did it happen near here?”
“Not far from here.”
The sadness in her voice tipped Flaherty and his brothers off to what she did not say—that it could have been Judson and his men.
“I’m sorry for yer loss, Mrs. Pritchard.
” Flaherty stared at his wife for a moment and wondered if, mayhap, the widow and her son would consider taking care of a widower’s cottage, seeing to the feeding of his horse and cooking of the meals.
“I know ye just told Doonan to leave, doctor, but I have an idea and it’s urgent that I ask him right away. ”
“Very well, but only if he respects my wishes that my patients need quiet.”
Eileen asked, “What is it?”
Flaherty brushed a hand to her cheek. “There’s something I need to ask Mrs. Pritchard and Nate before yer da comes back inside.”
“What do you want to know?” the widow asked.
“Would ye be interested in cooking and cleaning for a widower as long as it includes lodging and chores for yer son?”
Mrs. Pritchard smiled at Flaherty first, and then her son. “That would be the answer to my prayers. We wouldn’t have to leave St. Ives. Yes, yes I would be, and so would Nate. Wouldn’t you, Nate?”
“Would it involve horses?”
“Aye, lad,” Flaherty answered. “It would.”
“Then I’ll do it. And we really won’t have to leave the village, Mum?”
“As long as the person I have in mind agrees, and I think he would.” Flaherty turned to his wife and asked, “It would ease yer worries, too, wouldn’t it, lass?”
Understanding lit his wife’s features. “Thank you, Fenton, for thinking of my da.”
With a wry smile, Flaherty admitted, “He’s never far from my thoughts, especially after what happened earlier.”
She was still smiling when her father returned, grumbling, “Can’t you make up your mind, Wolcock? First you kick me out, and now you have a favor to ask of me.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “Well? What do you need?”
“It isn’t the doctor that needs the favor—it’s Mrs. Pritchard and her son,” Flaherty told him.
Doonan turned to look at the woman and her boy. “Well now, what do you need help with?”
Mrs. Pritchard smiled at him. “I understand that you may need someone to cook for you, and keep your cottage tidy, and—”
“And you have a horse that needs my help tending to him,” Nate interrupted.
Doonan smiled at the boy. “Well now, as my daughter is recently married, and I find myself alone and am a terrible cook, I believe you’re right. I do need someone to cook for me. The cleaning would be a bonus.”
“Then you like the idea?” Eileen asked him.
He smiled at her. “You should be resting and not speaking so much, daughter.”
She sighed. “Yes, Da.”
Turning back to the widow and her son, he asked, “Well, Mrs. Pritchard, would you and Nate like to come and work for me?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“But Mum,” the boy said.
“Not now, Nate.”
“But—”
“I think ye need to hear what yer son has to say,” Flaherty said.
“Very well. What is it, Nate?”
“We still won’t have anywhere to live.”
“Ye’ll be living with us at the manor,” Flaherty reminded the boy and his ma. “Or did ye forget?”
“I believe we did,” Mrs. Pritchard said. “I really don’t think His Grace—”
“I am quite certain that His Grace would be amenable to having his house being used for such a noble cause,” Flaherty told her. “Ye’re welcome for as long as ye like.”
Doonan spoke up. “I could come and fetch you in the mornings, starting tomorrow, if that would be all right.”
Mrs. Pritchard slowly smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Doonan, I believe that would be fine.”
“Now that that’s been settled, we’d best be getting back to the manor house,” Flaherty said. He held out his hand to the doctor, who shook it. “Thank ye, Dr. Wolcock. I’m indebted to ye.”
“Just make certain Eileen rests, and do not forget to wake her every other hour tonight.”
“I won’t forget,” Flaherty promised.
While his brothers helped Nate and his mother onto their horses, Flaherty told his father-in-law in a low voice, “I’m grateful that ye’ll be able to help out the widow and her son.
She may not be ready to tell ye their unwilling part in this debacle.
I’m sure if ye give her time, she will. Thank ye. ”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Flaherty. I’m indebted to you.” Doonan walked over to his daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Mind what your husband says—and try to bend a little and compromise.”
“I will, Da,” Eileen replied, hugging her father. “I love you.”
“Ah, I love you too.”
Doonan stepped back as Flaherty helped his wife onto his horse, mounted behind her, and pulled her onto his lap. “Ye’re welcome at the manor house any time, Doonan.”
“I’ll take you up on your invitation,” Doonan promised, waving to them as Flaherty and his brothers took the road out of the village toward the manor house.
“Close yer eyes, lass. I’ve got ye,” Flaherty said.
“Wake me when we get there?”
“Count on it, lass.”