Chapter 14
Jonas felt it the second he stepped onto the porch… something was wrong. The front door swung open, bumping against the frame, and that wasn’t Maeve at all. She never let things like that happen, not with the wind throwing dust and pine needles everywhere.
He eased the door shut, the hinges screeching like they might fall right off. The inside of the cabin felt strange. Air thick as stew, and quiet enough to make your ears ring.
He spotted Maeve instantly.
She stood by her traveling trunk, hands shaking while she tried to fold a dress and tuck it away.
Another dress was draped over the bed. Her shawl, and the boots she purchased at the mercantile soon after she arrived in town were lined up, as well as her old wooden comb, and all her daily things.
They were piled up together waiting for her to tuck neatly in her trunk.
“Maeve?” Jonas’ chest went tight.
She flinched, spun around, eyes red and rimmed, cheeks drained of color. Her whole face looked fragile enough to crack. Her cheeks were pale, and a shadow of darkness was visible beneath her eyes.
“Jonas,” she breathed, barely louder than the wind. “I didn’t hear you.”
“What…wh-what are ya doing?” Jonas closed the door, words stuck in his throat.
“I have to leave,” Maeve swallowed hard.
The words hit him like a punch.
“Leave? Why?” He just stood, staring.
“I can’t stay here,” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Not after today.”
His heart crashed around inside his chest. He crossed the room in a rush, dropped to his knees beside her.
“Maeve. Please, t-talk to m-me,” his voice wavered, as his stuttering came back.
“It’s better this way,” she blinked back tears, shaking her head.
“N-No,” Jonas snapped, louder than he meant. “It isn’t.”
Maeve held a hand over her mouth, fighting to keep it all together. Jonas hesitated, stepped closer to her, then gently touched her arm.
“Tell me, Maeve. T-Tell me what h-happened.”
She went still and was barely breathing. Finally, her shoulders sagged. Something broke. She slid onto the edge of the bed. Her entire body was shaking.
Jonas sat beside her, quiet and waiting. He placed a hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Her gaze remained lowered, as if she refused to make eye contact…full of shame.
“The man from today…the one calling my name. I know who he is,” she released in a ragged breath.
“Wh-Who is he?” Jonas’ jaw tightened.
“Patrick O’Malley,” Her eyes stayed locked on her lap. “He used to work for a man in Boston…Mr. Harridan. He’s rich and carries himself as if he owns everything.”
“Is that the one…” Jonas’s gut knotted.
“Aye…” she nodded, tears falling into her lap, leaving sploches her blue skirt.
“I worked at Mulligan’s Alehouse,” she wrung her trembling fingers, as if she was afraid they’d come apart. “I sang a little, served drinks. Nothing fancy, but honest work. Harridan was always there, hanging around and acting like he owned the place.”
Jonas felt his own breathing get ragged.
“One night…Harridan cornered me out back. He wanted something I wouldn’t give. I shoved him away.”
Jonas’ free hand curled so tight his knuckles went pale.
“He lost his temper.” Her voice barely made it out. “The next day he told my boss I’d stolen his pocket watch…one of those fancy ones. He said he saw me near the alley where they found it.”
“You didn’t,” Jonas replied with a statement instead of a question.
“Nay,” She shook her head, hair flying. “But he had power, and everyone believed him. Patrick just stood there, laughing.”
Jonas’ fist clinched so hard his fingernails dug into his palm.
“My boss told me to run, before the law came sniffing around. So I did. I ran,” she wiped at her face with her sleeve. “I thought if I went out west, I could start fresh. Be invisible. Safe.”
Her voice crumpled. She couldn’t keep it inside anymore.
“But Patrick found me. And now he’s telling the same lies here. I can’t…” She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to breathe. “I can’t live through it again. I can’t stand everyone looking at me like I’m dirty.”
Jonas squeezed her hand, and this time she let him. Her fingers felt cold.
“Maeve. Ya didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she looked away, voice thin as parchment. “People believe what they want. They always do.”
Something snapped inside Jonas. It was a place he’d tried to bury. He remembered the way people judged him for things he couldn’t change. How they called him simple, slow, or useless, just because his words didn’t come out right.
But what Maeve had suffered was much worse. Unfair. She didn’t deserve any of it.
“Yer not leaving,” he raised her hand against his chest.
“Jonas…” Her breath stuttered.
“No,” he said, steady. “Yer staying.”
“I don’t want to bring you shame,” she looked at him, tears flowing from her eyes.
“Ya w-won’t.”
“They’ll talk.”
“Let them.”
“They’ll say awful things.”
“I don’t c-care.”
“Ya should,” she shook her head, voice breaking apart. “Ya deserve someone better. Not a wife who’s ruined.”
“Yer n-not ruined,” Jonas gently wiped her tears away.
She closed her eyes, leaned against him, and finally let go.
Jonas swallowed, nerves tight in his chest.
“Maeve… I know I stumble over words. I know I’m quiet. I know I m-mess up what I mean to say. But I’m trying to be b-better, and ya make me better.”
Maeve raised her head, and blinked, her eyes searching his face.
“Yer brave,” Jonas whispered. “Braver than anyone I’ve ever met. Ya came all this way by yerself. Ya started over and worked ‘til ya were worn out. Ya sang even though ya were scared. Ya helped build the hall, ya made friends, and ya made this place a home.”
Her lips trembled.
“Yer not leaving,” Jonas said, firmer now. “Not because of lies. Not b-because of him.”
“I don’t want to go,” Maeve looked down, voice barely a breath.
“Then d-don’t,” His heartbeat quickened.
“But the town…” Maeve hesitated.
“I’ll talk to them.”
“Ya will?” She stared at him, wide-eyed.
Jonas nodded, though he felt sick with worry. Crowds terrified him. His words always tangled worse when people listened. But for Maeve, that didn’t matter. He would do it.
“I’ll tell everyone the truth. About what he d-did. About what ya’ve b-been through. Yer not what he says ya are.”
“Jonas…you don’t have to…” Maeve’s eyes filled again.
“I d-do,” he said, voice rough. “Because I love ya.”
He heard the words as they escaped his mouth, no time to pull them back.
Maeve froze, eyes wide.
Jonas stopped breathing for a second. That wasn’t how he meant to say it, and definitely not now. Not when she was raw and hurting. But it was out there, and it was real.
“I love ya, Maeve,” he tried again. But this time it was quieter.
She stared at him, lips parted, shaky and silent. Then she leaned in, pressing her forehead to his, and holding onto his shirt with her trembling hands as if she needed something solid.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.
“Ya do,” Jonas shut his eyes. “More than you think.”
They just sat there, wrapped up in that quiet, not saying anything with the world outside slipping away.
After a moment, Maeve pulled back, steadying herself. “If I try…if I stay…will you stand with me?”
“Always,” Jonas squeezed her hands.
“Then I’ll stay,” Maeve let out a labored breath. Her smile was small but real.
Relief washed over him, his head spinning, but warmth spilled right into his bones. Underneath that, something tougher settled in.
He wasn’t going to stay quiet. Not now. Not while Maeve was being broken by rumors and lies.
“We’ll handle this,” Jonas held her hand tight. “You and me.”
Maeve nodded, fingers locked with his.
Outside, the wind moved through the pines, carrying all those distant, but unheard voices and whispers.
Jonas straightened, thinking let them talk, because he’d make sure they heard him.