37

GIL PAUSED OUTSIDE THE PARLOR to collect his thoughts. He’d done a great deal of soul-searching since the day Brianna had confronted him in the tack room, and reluctantly, he’d decided she’d been right about a few things. Quite possibly Gil had been punishing her for not trusting him. Shame burned at the realization that he could be so unforgiving. What kind of Christian example was he living? Not a very good one, it seemed.

She was also right about the mixed messages he’d been sending her. The truth was he should have been man enough to make a decision and fight for her. Instead he’d taken offense at her choosing college over him. He’d worn his foolish pride like a cloak of honor and let the love of his life leave home with only a chilly good-bye.

Faced with Bree’s glaring absence in the family pew on Sunday, Gil had come to a moment of clarity. He needed to stop wavering and take action. Step up and make his intentions known to James. He’d told himself he’d been biding his time until James had fully recovered, when in reality Gil had been afraid to approach James for fear that he would once again deem Gil unworthy.

But all that ended now.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the hour. Pushing all negativity aside, Gil took a calming breath and entered the parlor.

James sat reading the evening paper in front of the fireplace. “Ah, Gil. Just the man I want to see.” He folded the paper and laid it aside.

“I need to talk to you, as well.” Too anxious to sit, Gil crossed the room to stand by the hearth. Now that he was face-to-face with James, the words wouldn’t come. Gil grabbed a poker and jabbed the logs.

“What’s on your mind, son? A business problem?”

Gil dusted off his hands and turned. “No, sir.”

James studied him. “I hope you’ve not suffered any bad repercussions from breaking your betrothal to Aurora.”

“Not really, except I doubt the Hastings family will speak to me any time soon.” He gave a wan smile, but James did not smile back.

He pinned Gil with a serious look. “I should never have taken advantage of you like that. I’m truly sorry.”

Gil held his gaze. “I shouldn’t have let you.”

James shook his head. “Seems we’ve both come to some interesting realizations the hard way. I know now that I would never risk my health or my family’s well-being again for anything.”

Gil nodded, hoping this meant James might be more receptive to his plea. “On that note, sir, I have something to ask you.” He cleared his throat and moved to sit on the chair opposite James. The question needed to be asked eye-to-eye. “I respectfully wish to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

James’s gaze remained steady. “I see. And how do you plan to support her?”

Gil’s stomach twisted. “Once we get Irish Meadows back on solid ground, I’ll look for a piece of land to start my own farm.” He tried not to think of how long that might take.

James considered him for a moment, giving Gil time to sweat.

“Actually, I have a proposition for you, Gilbert, and I hope you’ll hear me out before you give me an answer.”

Gil swallowed. At least James hadn’t flat out refused him. “Go on.”

“You’ve done an impressive job here since I’ve been ill. Brought us back from the brink of insolvency, something I couldn’t seem to manage. Now that my health has forced me to curtail my involvement in business matters, I could use a partner in Irish Meadows. There’s no one else better suited to run this place. What do you say? Would you be willing to invest your money here and become a full-fledged partner?”

Shock pushed Gil to his feet. He paced the area in front of the hearth, attempting to digest James’s offer. Could he give up his dream to join forces with the O’Learys?

James joined him by the mantel. “We have everything here you’d be creating from the ground up. I’d even give you a piece of land when you’re ready to build your own house.”

A secret part of Gil yearned to accept the offer. He could stay right here where he’d been so happy as part of the family he loved. It would make Brianna happy, too. How important was making the Whelan name count? “It’s a very generous offer . . .” he began, dragging his hand over his jaw. “But it’s still your creation, not mine.”

“That’s not entirely true. You’ve had a big hand in helping build up this business over the years. If not for your talent with the horses, we would never have attracted the clientele we have. In fact, to show my good faith, I’d even be willing to add your name to the deed and the title. How does ‘Irish Meadows: O’Leary and Whelan Enterprises’ sound?”

A hint of excitement threaded its way through Gil’s system. “Would you be willing to let me have more say in the direction the farm takes? I have some ideas about expanding the breeding side, especially now that racing is on hold indefinitely.”

James eyed him intently. “I’d be open to that. I predict if we survive the next year or two, there’s no telling what we can do.”

One more roadblock came to mind. “What about Adam? He already resents my place in the family. If he finds out about this, it may cause an irreparable rift.”

James took a pipe from the stand on the mantel and ran his hand over the stem. A flash of pain passed over his features. “Adam is a complicated issue. My son may be involved in some activities that are . . . not quite legal.” His face became grim. “I went to see him the day I applied for the bank loan. Tried to make him see reason, but only succeeded in alienating him further.”

“All the more reason not to give him another excuse to leave the family.”

James straightened to his full height, a stubborn set to his jaw. “I’m afraid Adam has chosen his path, and I must choose mine. I can’t afford to wait for him to come to his senses. This proposal makes good business sense for Irish Meadows and for you. My offer stands.”

Gil nodded, realizing the truth of his words. “That still doesn’t address my initial question. Do I have your permission to ask Brianna to marry me?”

James laid a meaty hand on Gil’s shoulder. “Ever since your mother died, you’ve been like a son to me. I’d be honored to make it official and have you as a son-in-law. I’m only sorry it took me this long to realize it.”

Gil fought to subdue the tidal wave of emotion rising in his chest. “I’d be honored as well, sir. And I accept your offer of a partnership.”

“Miss O’Leary, there’s a phone call for you.” Sister Veronica’s head poked around the door to the classroom where Colleen sat filling the ink bottles.

Colleen looked up and smiled at the youthful nun. “I thought you’d agreed to call me Colleen. After all, we’re practically the same age.”

“I’m sorry. I keep forgetting.” Her eyes sparkled with merriment. “You can take the call in Sister Marguerite’s office.”

“Thank you.” Colleen grabbed a rag to wipe the excess ink from the lip of the bottle. As she capped the bottle, she couldn’t help remembering the day little Delia had knocked over the inkpot. At that time, the stains on Colleen’s hands had shamed her—now they represented good honest work.

She left the classroom and walked briskly along the hall to Sister Marguerite’s office. Who would be calling her at the orphanage? A tiny shiver of alarm tried to catch hold, but she shook it off. Nothing to worry about. Daddy’s health was improving every day. Most likely it was Brianna calling from Aunt Fiona’s.

The office was empty, the only movement coming from the curtain at the window, which danced in the afternoon breeze. A jar of wildflowers adorned the desktop, filling the barren room with color and wonderful scents.

Colleen crossed to the wall, picked up the earpiece of the phone, and bent to speak into the other end. “Hello?”

When there was no response, she repeated her greeting twice. Still nothing. She hung up, a frown forming. Perhaps she should call home just in case.

The soft click of the office door barely registered while Colleen waited for the operator. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone in the doorway. Goosebumps rose on her neck as she turned to see who had entered. The phone piece fell from her nerveless fingers and clattered against the wall, swinging from the cord.

“Hello, Colleen.” Rylan stood watching her, his cap clutched in front of him.

“Rylan.” Colleen’s hand flew to her mouth. Shock rooted her feet to the floor as she struggled to take in the reality of him being here at the orphanage when he was supposed to be halfway around the world.

The trademark grin broke out over his handsome face, creating dimples in each cheek. “You seem surprised to see me.”

Instant tears sprang to her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Without conscious thought, she rounded the desk and threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his neck. She wept against him, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and peppermint, and a hint of smoke from the train. All tangible evidence he was really here—not in England or Ireland.

“Ah, Colleen, how I’ve missed you,” he murmured into her hair, his lilting accent even more pronounced than before he’d left. His arms tightened around her.

If it weren’t for the steady thump of his heart beneath her, Colleen would’ve thought she was imagining the whole scene.

Rylan handed her a handkerchief from the pocket of his tweed jacket. His brown eyes twinkled. “I always seem to be mopping up your tears, now, don’t I?”

She dabbed the cloth to her cheeks. “What are you doing here? Your ship was in a collision and needed repairs.”

A confused frown crossed his features before understanding dawned. “Ah, the Olympic. I didn’t end up on that ship. I couldn’t wait, so I changed my ticket and took a steamer out a week earlier.”

A riot of different emotions coursed through her. “And you didn’t think to let us know? Do you know how worried we were when we heard about the accident?”

“I’m so sorry. I only heard about it myself when I reached Boston.”

“Boston?” Her heart plummeted to her feet while her head tried to keep up with the dizzying pace of revelations. So he’d returned to the seminary after all. And she’d gone and thrown herself at him. Her cheeks burned at the realization of how brazen her reaction had been. Slowly, she disengaged herself from his hold and took several steps back. Her legs wobbled beneath her skirts as the thought of having him so near, only to lose him once again to the church, shook her to the core.

Rylan moved to cup her elbow. “Are you all right, love? You’d better sit down. This has been a shock.”

More like a cataclysmic event. She sank onto the guest chair by the desk, attempting to even out her erratic breathing. She had to get control, to face whatever it was Rylan had come to say. “So you’ve made your decision, then?”

He nodded. “The best thing I ever did was go home to see my mum. She helped bring clarity to everything in my life.”

Colleen twisted Rylan’s handkerchief in her hands. “I imagine your superiors are happy to have you back,” she whispered, hating to sound so pitiful.

Staring at his shoes on the warped wooden floor, she sensed him grow still. A moment later, he crouched in front of her, his warm hands covering hers. “I went to Boston to give them my resignation,” he said quietly. “We all agreed it’s for the best.”

“You did?” She focused on Rylan’s hands atop hers, not daring to look at him, not daring to hope what this might mean.

“Yes. I’ve decided my calling is elsewhere. I’ve accepted a new position.”

Her head buzzed with a thousand nonsensical notions. “I’m happy for you” was all she could manage to get out.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Yes, of course.” Her mouth gave the expected response while her heart erected barriers to protect itself.

“I am the new manager of St. Rita’s Orphan Asylum. Sister Marguerite has decided to go into semi-retirement and is in need of an assistant.”

A spasm of pain clutched Colleen’s midsection. He’d made no mention of his feelings or sharing his future with her. Only talk of his new career. Where did that leave her?

Rylan tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I’m making myself clear. I’ve left out the most important part.” He shifted position, one knee on the floor. “Colleen Elizabeth O’Leary, you stole my heart the first moment we met. I love you more than my own life, and if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days proving it to you.”

Her throat convulsed. No words could make it past the blockage lodged there. She simply stared into the earnest brown pools as the room swayed around her.

He raised an amused brow. “In case you’re still not understanding, I’m asking you to marry me.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

She’d never expected a proposal. After all, they’d only shared one kiss. “Are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. These last weeks without you have been torture. I don’t want to spend one more day apart from you. If you’ll have me, that is.” His earnest eyes searched hers.

“You won’t resent giving up being a priest?” Her hands shook as real concern hit her. What if he came to regret marrying her?

“To tell the truth, it’s a relief. I realized I entered the seminary to please my mother, instead of having a true calling. I can still serve God—and love you in the process.” He winked at her.

She gulped and waved a hand weakly in the air. “But where will we live?”

He chuckled. “Do we have to decide that right this minute?”

Her lips trembled. “Are you certain you can put up with me? According to my family, I’m not easy to live with.”

His gaze grew pensive as he studied her. “Ah, I believe I see the problem. You’re thinking with your head instead of your heart.” He rose and drew her to her feet. With gentle hands, he cupped her face and slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

Her soul gave a surge of joy at the feel of his lips on hers. A whimper rose in her throat and she pressed closer, eager to drink in every inch of him. His love was evident in the tenderness of his kiss and the gentle way he caressed her face with his thumbs.

When at last he released her, she opened her eyes to see him smiling at her. “Now maybe you’d care to answer my question.”

Her heart beat a frantic rhythm in her chest. “Yes.” The word whooshed out with a rush of air.

“You’ll marry me?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” A laugh bordering on hysteria bubbled up.

He let out a whoop, picked her up, and twirled her around until her head spun. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her soundly once again. “I promise to spend my whole life making you happy, Colleen O’Leary.”

Before she could catch her breath, he reached for her hand and tugged her across the room. “Now that you’ve come to your senses, I have another surprise for you.” He pulled open the door and led her down the hall, stopping in front of the common room. “But first, I have one more question. A rather important one. You do want children, don’t you?” His broad grin tempered his boldness.

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Of course, I’d like children one day . . .”

“One day? That sounds so far away.” Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “I was thinking of something much sooner.” He opened the door and motioned her inside.

“Miss O’Leary!” A familiar childish voice echoed in the large room.

Colleen’s mouth fell open at the sight of Delia racing toward her. Colleen dropped to her knees and caught the little girl against her, unable to stop another gush of tears from running down her cheeks.

She squeezed Delia so tight she squeaked, then rained kisses all over her darling face, not even minding the sticky candy residue on the girl’s lips. “Delia! I’ve missed you so much. What are you doing here? Did your family bring you for a visit?”

The blond curls shook back and forth. “No. They didn’t want me anymore so Mr. Rylan came and got me.”

A mixture of indignation and sorrow squeezed Colleen’s lungs as she picked up Delia and turned to Rylan. “Can the family give her back like that?” She ached for the child who’d been given the chance of a new home only to be rejected by her adoptive family.

The regret on Rylan’s face told the story. “I’m afraid so, darlin’. There’s a three-month clause in the adoption contract, giving them time to see if the child is a good fit with the family.”

“But how did you know?”

“There was a letter from Sister Marguerite at the seminary, and since the family lived near Boston, I went to pick her up and bring her home.”

Delia’s small, somewhat sticky hand reached to turn Colleen’s face to her. “Maybe now you can be my mama.” The trusting blue eyes, so earnest and sincere, twisted Colleen’s insides. How could she say no to her after everything she’d been through?

She threw a desperate glance at Rylan, who was smiling now through misty eyes.

“If I’m not presuming too much,” he said, “how would you feel about adopting this lovely wee girl once we’re married?”

Colleen’s heart swelled with an overwhelming cascade of emotion. This man had given her everything she’d ever dreamed of. “I love you, Rylan Montgomery. Almost as much as I love this imp.” She kissed Delia’s face and squeezed her again, laughing and crying at once. “I would be very happy to be your mama—as long as you can stand Mr. Rylan for a father.”

Delia giggled. “I think so.”

Rylan stretched his arms around both of them, pressing a kiss to Colleen’s temple. “I love you both very much. I’m incredibly blessed to have you in my life.”

“Will I have to live at the orphanage?” Delia’s nose scrunched as the question came to her.

“For a little while. Until Miss O’Leary and I get married and find a house to live in. But in the meantime, we’ll be here every day with you.”

“When we get a house, can I have a puppy?” Her eyes flashed with mischief.

Colleen suppressed a laugh. “You’re getting a mother, a father, a new house, and you want a puppy, too?”

Her little face fell. “I’m sorry. That’s greedy, isn’t it?”

Rylan plucked the child out of Colleen’s arms. “We can’t promise anything right now, until we see where we end up living.” He kissed the top of her head and set her down. “Why don’t you run up and put your bag and Mr. Whiskers in your room? I have a few more things to discuss with Miss O’Leary, and then we’ll take you out for ice cream to celebrate.”

“Ice cream!” She squealed and made a dash for the hallway.

The moment she was out of sight, Rylan pulled Colleen into his arms. “Are you sure about this? Taking on a husband is one thing. But an instant family is quite another.”

She pressed a hand to his chest. “Oh, Rylan. Ever since Delia left, I’ve secretly dreamed she would come back so I could adopt her myself. Only I didn’t know how I’d manage it on my own. You’ve made me the happiest woman in America.”

She leaned up to kiss him, winding her fingers through his thick hair. As they drew apart, the intensity darkening his eyes sent goosebumps down her spine.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m thinking I’d better talk to your father and get a marriage license very soon if you’re going to be tempting me like that.”

She laughed, her heart overflowing with pure joy. “The sooner the better, Mr. Montgomery. The sooner the better.”