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Eliza sat on the floor of the Archers’ sitting room with Katie, the Archer children, and Lydia, a quarter of an hour into what was likely to be a very long game of Duck, Duck, Goose. Ever since playing it at a céilí weeks earlier, both Lydia and little Sean wanted to play nothing else. Eliza and Katie had put them off all day with the promise of a game once the girls were home from school.
“Why do we have to play this every day, Mama?” Ivy asked, flopping around dramatically while still remaining in her spot in the circle. They usually played this game out of doors, but the weather was a bit too cold for comfort that day.
“The little ones enjoy it,” Katie answered, as calm as ever. “I’m full certain Emma played many games with you when you were younger that she’d’ve rather not.”
“Scads of them,” Emma said as she walked around the outside of the circle. She set her hand on Katie’s head. “Duck.” Then Sean’s. “Duck.”
Lydia bounced, watching her approach.
Emma paused and, with intentionally slow movement, moved her hand toward Lydia’s head. She pulled her eyes wide. Lydia giggled.
“Goose.”
For just a moment, Lydia didn’t remember what to do.
Eliza helped her to her feet. “Goose. Go.”
Lydia ran after Emma, her steps awkward and teetering but her face split in a broad grin. Good sport that she was, Emma made a show of running but didn’t move very fast at all. One of Lydia’s feet bumped into the other, and she toppled into a heap on the wood floor. Before anyone in the circle could react, Lydia was scooped up and set on her feet by Joseph Archer.
“Pompah!” Ivy was on her feet with all the speed of a young and limber child. She ran to her father and threw her arms around his legs. “Pompah!”
Emma rushed to him as well, her more subdued but equally sincere greeting characteristically different from her sister’s. Little Sean didn’t arrive quite as quickly, but neither did he hesitate. Joseph picked him up and held his son in one arm.
Katie stood a few paces off, watching her family. Joseph met her gaze. No one seeing them in that moment could ever doubt how deeply they loved each other.
“My Katie,” he said softly.
She closed the gap between them and was immediately enfolded in her husband’s embrace, their children pulled close as well.
Eliza took hold of Lydia’s hand and slipped from the room. The menfolk hadn’t been expected to return for another day or two. Their early arrival was, no doubt, a pleasant surprise for Joseph’s family.
She paused in the dining room a moment, her thoughts on those long-ago days when she had greetings such as that to look forward to; first, in her childhood family, then Terrence during their brief marriage. The regret and strain between them hadn’t made their marriage a miserable one. She missed the days when things had been good and happy between them. She missed having someone to greet, and someone to greet her. She missed having a family to come home to.
Lydia’s hand sat softly in hers, easing the sadness.
“We’re family,” she said to her little girl. “And I have you with me every day. That’s reason and plenty to be joyful.”
Eliza was determined to keep her spirits up. They walked hand in hand into the kitchen. It wasn’t empty.
Patrick sat at the work table, a stub of a pencil in his hand as he scratched out some sort of note.
“Pa-ck!” Lydia’s latest—admittedly odd—version of his name pulled his attention away from his writing.
The look of utter adoration on his face melted Eliza’s heart. “Mo stóirín!” He moved quickly around the table and held his arms open as Lydia rushed into his waiting embrace. “I’ve missed you, mo chailín beag.”
That last was an Irish phrase Eliza hadn’t heard before. But there was no mistaking his tone. Patrick loved her little girl. Lydia leaned her head against him and scratched her fingers in his beard.
“It’s longer, isn’t it? I’ve not trimmed it since I left.”
Lydia just smiled at him, and he, kneeling on the ground, held her. He looked up and met Eliza’s eyes.
“She’s missed you,” Eliza said.
“Has she?”
A little flip of the heart delayed her response a moment. “She has. And she has hoped that you spent some time with your brothers and father while you were away. And she hopes your connection to them has deepened.”
“For a wee girl who’s not spoken more than two words at once in all the months I’ve known her, she’s had a lot to say while I was away.”
Heat touched Eliza’s cheeks. Was he laughing at her?
She clung to what dignity she could and moved to the stove. The family would want their dinner soon enough.
“Eliza?”
“Did you have a good journey?” She tried to sound casual.
He slipped up next to her. “Oh, ’twas a terrible thing I’ve endured. Suffering. Torture. I’ve not eaten in two weeks. Have pity on me, dearie. I’m begging you.”
His teasing lifted her spirits. “I suppose I can let you stay, but only if you tell me what is in that note you were writing.”
Patrick picked up Lydia, who was tugging at the leg of his trousers. “I didn’t want to disrupt your work, so I was leaving a note explaining that your two coats and Lydia’s shoes are on your bed.”
Her excitement was tempered by nerves. “Did they come terribly dear?”
He shook his head. “In fact, the money you sent me with is on your bed as well.”
“You didn’t pay for them yourself, did you?” He hadn’t money enough for such things.
“I didn’t. A man who lives near the depot was desperate to finish up his new barn before winter arrives. I spent the couple of days we were all there working on it with him in exchange for a very warm woolen lady’s coat, an equally warm little girl’s coat, and a pair of child’s shoes.”
“You might have been paid for that labor, Patrick. I know you haven’t had work. You need the money.”
He set his unoccupied arm around her waist and pulled her up to him. Eliza’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. It was the scene she’d seen play out in the sitting room, but with herself part of it.
“My sweet Eliza,” he said. “I’d not’ve suggested the trade if I’d been at all opposed to it. The man also tossed in a tremendous amount of tea as part of the exchange.”
“Did you drink a lot of tea while you were there?” She’d worried about him being in a place that had saloons and liquor to be bought with ease.
“Gallons of it,” he said.
That was a relief.
“Between the tea and the barn, I didn’t struggle as much as I feared I would,” he said. “And trading for labor wasn’t too much of a worry. I’m not needing money in m’pocket just now.”
“You aren’t?”
He smiled warmly. Even the growth in his beard couldn’t hide his beautiful, heart-flipping smile.
“I’ll be working Finbarr’s land until he’s ready to take it over. He’ll be letting me keep a good bit of the profits on the harvest as well as whatever food I grow in the kitchen garden. I’ll not starve.”
She leaned against him, much as Lydia was doing. “But you won’t have any profits or crops for an entire year. What will you do until then?”
He pulled her in a touch closer. “According to Joseph, I’ll be building an inn.”
She all but jumped. “You’ll what?”
His chest shook a little with a silent laugh. “We had ample time for tossing ideas around, and we managed to come up with one that he’s confident will work. The stage company has already given their approval.”
She pulled back, watching him closely. Her breaths came faster, more eager. “What is it? What’s the plan? Where are we building?”
“I’ll not keep you from your work, Eli—”
“And I’ll not be able to summon the least focus if you don’t explain, Patrick. Truly, I’m struggling to even form words at the moment.”
He stepped away and set Lydia on a chair at the table. Eliza followed him, trying not to be too hopeful all the while finding less and less reason not to be. Oh, if this hope broke her heart . . . How would she ever recover? “Please tell me, Patrick. I can’t bear it.”
Joseph and Katie stepped into the kitchen in the very next instant. Katie pressed her palms together with a look of excitement. “Joseph just told me about the inn.”
“I’ve been trying to get Patrick to do that.”
Joseph spoke to Patrick. “Borrow my buggy and drive her out to the building site. You can explain it all there.”
“What about dinner?” Eliza asked. “I’ve not even begun it.”
Katie gave her a quick hug. “I’ll cook tonight.”
“And Lydia?” she pressed.
“The girls will be delighted to look after her.” Katie gave her a nudge toward the door. “You go with Patrick. Let him tell you what they’ve concocted.”
* * *
The buggy rolled past the mercantile without Patrick having offered even a clue about their destination, the plan for the inn, or the likelihood of the plan succeeding.
“Will you not at least tell me something?” She heard the pleading quality in her voice; he couldn’t possibly miss it. “I am trying not to let myself fully hope—my dreams have been dashed on this matter too many times—but I also don’t want to be discouraged if I needn’t be.”
He adjusted so he held the horse’s lead in one hand, freeing the other to take hold of hers. He raised it to his lips and lightly kissed the back of her fingers. “Allow yourself to hope, darling. You’ve ample reason to.”
She slipped her fingers from his so he could drive more easily, but threaded her arm through his, leaning against him with her head on his shoulder.
“The days of driving to and from the depot were not nearly this cozy,” he said with a laugh.
“The last two weeks around here haven’t been either.”
They made the climb up the hill that hid Hope Springs from passersby.
“Will the inn have to be built terribly far away?” She was willing to go wherever she needed to for this dream to come true, but she worried that she’d be lonely so far from the friends she’d made. She felt certain Patrick would come visit regularly, but he’d not be able to do so every day. She’d miss him most of all.
“I think you’ll be pleased with the location.”
“You won’t even give me a hint?”
He pulled the buggy to a stop at the top of the hill. “Your hint is this: were the inn already complete, you would be able to see it now.”
They were well within sight of the original location, the one she’d had to abandon weeks earlier, the one she still longed for and wished for. She looked to Patrick, not daring to believe what she was beginning to suspect.
He smiled broadly. “There was never a better place for it.”
“The original site? Truly?”
He nodded.
“How is that possible?”
He set the horse to a walk once more, the buggy aiming directly for her future inn. Her inn. Merciful heavens, it actually seemed within reach.
“Joseph and I tossed around every scenario we could come up with for making your inn an overnight stop for the stage company. Even Finbarr added his thoughts. We couldn’t find an answer that didn’t pull you too far from Hope Springs.”
“That’s been my conclusion as well.”
“But then, sweetie, I realized maybe we were asking ourselves the wrong question.”
She hadn’t the first idea what he meant. “Which question ought we to have been asking?”
He smiled at her, the look one of adorably self-satisfied excitement. “Instead of ‘How do we make a Hope Springs inn fit an overnight stop?’ we should’ve wondered ‘What kind of stop fits Hope Springs?’”
What kind of stop? An overnight stop didn’t work because the stage passed Hope Springs at approximately midday. Midday. “A lunch stop?”
He nodded. “A lunch stop.”
Her mind spun. A lunch stop. The stage would pass at the opportune time for that, but how could that possibly be a solution? An inn without overnight guests wouldn’t be an inn for long.
“I can see you’re trying to sort it all out. Let me fill in a few of the gaps.” He slowed the buggy as they approached the site. “Joseph suggested to the stage company that they take a midday stop in Hope Springs. The passengers can get themselves a bite to eat. The drivers can, as well, and their horses can rest for a spell. The stage makes the roundtrip twice a week.”
“So I would have customers four days a week.”
“A predictable four days a week,” he said. “You can plan your days and supplies accordingly.”
“Can I stay afloat on only four days of midday meals?”
“Dr. Jones would have his infirmary and would pay rent. That will help.”
She would far prefer he’d said, “make all the difference” rather than “help.”
Patrick stopped the buggy and climbed down. He gently patted the horse as he walked around to Eliza’s side of the buggy. He held his arms out to her. She accepted the assistance and was soon walking beside him.
“Joseph believes that the stage company will come to realize the benefit of an established inn, one with food at the ready and protection from the elements. He’s confident they’ll make it a priority to sort out a means of making your inn an overnight stop.”
“That would be perfect,” she said.
Patrick took her hand. “You would likely still need to do some work at Archers’ to make ends meet the first little while. Joseph means to talk with Katie about it, but he’s confident something can be arranged.”
“Katie’s certainly capable of doing the work and more than willing,” Eliza said, “but I see how much she loves having the freedom to be with her children and play her violin. I would always worry that she’d agreed to the arrangement out of compassion but wasn’t truly happy with it.”
Patrick kissed the back of her hand. “Even if you did nothing more than the laundry once a week, it would bring in a bit of extra money to stretch further.”
“When the stage passes,” Eliza said, “would the horses simply be resting while the driver had a bite to eat, or would horses be changed here?”
Patrick’s head tipped and his brow pulled in thought. “A change of horses would be invaluable to the stage. They could travel so much farther on fresh horses.”
“I don’t have horses to lend them, though. And I certainly couldn’t afford to purchase any.”
He released her hand and paced away. “The stage company can drop an extra team here to be stabled and cared for. When the northbound stage stops for a midday meal, they’d trade their team for the rested one, leaving the weary horses to be stabled and cared for until the southbound stage stopped the next day for lunch, trading their team for the one here. And so on and so on.”
“And the stage company would pay for the stabling?”
Patrick nodded, turning to face her with eagerness in his eyes. “That would bring in more funds and increase your inn’s value to the stage.”
Eliza pressed her palms together, resting her fingertips to her chin. “I’d have to hire someone to look after the animals; I haven’t the first idea how to care for horses.”
“I’ve worked as a stable hand,” he said. “Did a fine job of it. Enjoyed it, too.”
“You want to be my employee?” The idea made her laugh.
“Oh, love.” He slipped closer. “That’s not at all what I have in mind.”
She pretended to be confused. “You want to be the stage company’s employee?”
Patrick put his arms around her, holding her as they stood on the very spot where so many of her dreams had resided these past months. “I can see I have more work to do.”
“Building the inn?”
Laughter shook his chest. “You’re trouble, you are.”
She leaned into his embrace. “I’ve been a source of trouble to many people. I do try not to be.”
“Oh, sweetie, I was only teasing.”
“I know.” She wrapped her arms around his middle. “And I’m glad of it. You never make me feel like a weight or a leech.”
“You’re never either one. And if ever you doubt that, you need only ask. I’ll tell you the truth of it.”
The wind whipped around them, swirling and tugging. She felt very little of it, shielded and warmed by his embrace.
“I’ll likely not be able to pay you very much to tend the horses.”
“I will have income from Finbarr’s farm,” he said.
“You won’t resent that I’m the reason you’re working two jobs?”
He kissed her forehead. “I’ve never been afraid of hard work, and I like being busy.”
“So do I.” She looked up into his eyes. “It seems we’re birds of a feather.”
“It seems we’re a lot more than that.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I never did get to kiss you goodbye before leaving for the depot.”
“You didn’t kiss me ‘good to be back,’ either.”
“Hmm.” He somehow drew closer despite already being so close. “Seems to me we ought to be able to sort that out.”
“I should hope so.”
When he’d kissed her on the front step of Ian’s house, it had been soft and hesitant, like the brush of a feather. There, on the spot of land where her dreams had been planted, he kissed her again, but this time, his lips were fervent, and his embrace was ardent.
She bent her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with every ounce of feeling she had.
This was truly a place for dreams to come true.