Chapter 37

The hour was late, and Moira’s bones ached when she and Sean arrived back at Colm’s to return the basket of medicinal items and Peg’s beloved ledger. They’d paused their journey only long enough for Moira to thoroughly scrub her hands and forearms, at Sean’s insistence.

After one knock, the door swung open and Colm stood before them, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, back so early, are ye? I didn’t expect to see the likes o’ ye again this night.” His expression seemed a mix of doting father whose son had been out too late and genuine concern for the reason they’d been on a mission of mercy.

“We came to return your things . . . Peg’s things.” Moira held out the items.

“Tsk, tsk! Ye just hang on ta those, now, pet. It’ll be a few days yet afore my Peg is ready to venture back into the world o’ nursing, and ye don’t want ta hafta be coming back here every day.” He shook his head and gently pressed Moira’s hands, and the items in them, toward her. “Now, ye’ve had a long evenin’, I’d wager, and ye’ll be needin’ yer rest. I trust ye’ll get the lass home safe?” He turned his gaze toward Sean.

“What? Oh, yes. I’ll make sure Moira is home safe, and then it’s off to me own place. I’ve a full day of work tomorrow, and my master has no patience for lagging on the job.” Sean winked at Colm. The interchange warmed Moira.

“Safe home to ye both.” Colm tipped his cap. “I’ll give yer love ta Peg.”

Sean motioned to the road with a grand sweep of his arm. “After ye, m’lady.”

“Why thank you kindly, good sir.” She curtsied, and the pair started for her chalet. They walked along in silence. Every now and then Sean would take a breath as though he wanted to say something, but then he’d clamp his mouth shut and grimace slightly. Moira wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been glancing his way every few steps.

He fixed his cap, dropped his hands to his sides, and worked the back of his neck before finally placing his hands firmly in his pockets.

“So . . . you believe the young man will survive?”

Moira chewed her lip. “As I said when we left him, his breathing was much less labored than before, but his fever is still quite high. As far as I can tell, he’s still unconscious. I cannot know.”

“Hmm. I heard you reading to him.”

She nodded. “I read Psalm 23.”

“I know.”

“It’s been far too long since I’ve spent any measure of time in the Scriptures,” Moira confessed. “I think perhaps I drew more from it than he did.”

“Well, I should hope so.”

Moira gaped at him, chagrined. What was he implying with a statement like that? After all this, did he still think her a fool?

Sean held up his hands in surrender. “What with the lad bein’ unconscious and all, I would hope you’d garner more wisdom from the Good Book than a man in a coma.” His smile faded instantly. “I shouldna spoken that way. Áedach may not be a man of integrity, but neither am I, if I treat his suffering lightly.”

They continued walking, caught in the somberness of what was not yet over.

At length, Sean said, “Well, here ye are, Miss. Ye’re home.”

Moira’s heart sank. Already? “Yes, it appears I am.” She turned to face Sean and waited until he looked straight into her eyes. “Thanks again for accompanying me tonight. It means a great deal to me.”

His eyes locked on hers and they stood, silent and motionless, both barely breathing. “My pleasure.” His voice was thick and rough, and it set Moira’s spine tingling.

Sean took a step toward her.

Her heart quickened. She didn’t know if she hoped or dreaded that he might kiss her.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he slowly leaned toward her. Moira’s breath caught in her chest as heat flashed on her cheeks. She wanted to turn away, lest he see the desire in her eyes. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. He bent at the waist, gently took her hand in his, and pressed his lips to the back.

Her head spun, and it took all her strength not to melt beneath his touch. He lingered there, his breath warm on her fingers, for just a second before straightening again and releasing her hand. “Good night, fair lady.” He backed away with a few slow steps before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

Moira drew her hand to her face, pressing her own lips against the place where his had been mere moments before. The same hands that had served her perceived enemy, Áedach.

She had never been in love before but couldn’t imagine a more euphoric feeling than this one. Though not ready to fully admit its depths, she knew in her heart she held more than admiration for Sean McFadden. She stood in the mist longer than was prudent, straining to follow his outline through the fog.

The warmth of the moment eventually faded, and a shiver shook her from her reverie. She went inside, secured the door, stoked the fire, and hung the kettle over the flames. Despite the exhaustion that clung to her bones, she knew sleep would not be swift in coming this night.

As she sipped her tea, she replayed the events of the night over and over again. She remembered the terror that had gripped her at the sound of Peg’s cough. The honor that had welled in her heart when Colm handed her the ledger. The fresh sense of compassion as she read Scripture and prayed over Áedach. Her thoughts all swayed together until the entire evening was a swirl of emotions, sounds, and colors. And then. Then the moment that took her most by surprise and would take up residence in her heart as the highlight.

She shivered as she recalled the strength of her desire to feel Sean’s kiss upon her lips. And how thoughtful of him to protect her honor—particularly given the current rumor surrounding her origins—by exercising restraint and offering a polite kiss to her hand.

Those were the thoughts that stayed in her mind as she drifted toward sleep—Sean’s kindness, thoughtfulness, and the press of his kiss on her skin.