Chapter 39
“I’m tellin’ ya, Colm, the man’s trouble.” Sean paced in front of his mentor’s fireplace, the skin on the back of his neck raw from the near constant rubbing since he’d left the McGonigle’s shop.
Colm patted the table with his meaty hand. “Come, lad.” He waved Sean over. “Sit an’ have yer tea.”
Sean reached the table in two steps and flopped into a seat opposite the man. He took hold of his cup but had no stomach for tea. He slid the cup to the center of the table, splashing the milky liquid onto the wood. It pooled for a moment before soaking in, Sean watching it the whole time.
Colm’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Good grief, now I know ’tis serious if ye won’t take yer tea!” A hearty laugh bubbled out of his mouth, and he gave Sean a playful nudge. But there was no laughing for Sean on this day.
“’Tis serious, man! O’Malley’s no good, I’m tellin’ ya. Ya know yourself what he was like as a boyo.”
Colm nodded, pursing his lips in thought. “Aye.” He drew a long drink of tea and sat back. “Declan had his fair share of wild oats to sow, but that doesna mean there’s more left in his pouch.”
Colm cocked an eyebrow. “So, ye’re tellin’ me that ye’re the same lad ye were ten years back?”
Sean threw his hands up, exasperated. “C’mon, Colm, that’s not fair and ye know it. ’Course I’m different. I’ve grown. Changed.”
Colm nodded emphatically. “Agreed.”
“I know what ye’re tryin’ to say, and I don’t deny that the same could be true for Declan.” Sean’s hand went instinctively to the back of his neck. He winced and scratched his scalp instead. “It’s just that men like him—men who treat women the way he did—don’t change much in that regard. Not in my experience, at least.”
Colm looked pensive, and he swigged the last of his tea. “Ya have a point there, lad. All I’m sayin’ is ta watch and pray. The Laird can change even the coldest man’s heart.”
“Humph! He’d better watch his manners, that’s all I have ta say.” Sean shook his head. “The nairve of him callin’ her Moira when they’d only just met.” He slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “God help ’im if he so much as looks at her with disrespect.”
Sean released a deep sigh. If Declan O’Malley thinks he can win the heart of Moira Doherty without a fight, he’s got another think comin’.
The dough was soft and warm in Moira’s hands as she kneaded it again and again. How could she have been so stupid to allow herself to be part of such a display? There was no mistaking the hurt in Sean’s eyes when he caught sight of her hand in Declan’s.
There was also no denying that Declan had stirred something in her. And while she felt bad for injuring his pride, Sean had never made any proclamations of intention or interest of any kind. He’d been a gentleman and gone out of his way to help her. He’d kissed her hand. But could that account for more than a polite gesture? Had she made too much of it? Sean had never said . . .
I think he made his interest quite clear last night, Moira Girl. She brushed her fingers over the place where his lips had lingered and closed her eyes. But it was Declan’s piercing blue eyes she saw in her mind. While true that she’d made no promise or commitment to Sean, she couldn’t deny that she had very nearly proclaimed herself to love him less than twenty-four hours earlier.
Was this a test of the state of her heart? Moira felt petty and foolish to be so moved by a man she’d only just met, but the butterflies that still fluttered when she pictured the newcomer’s face threatened to drown out all logic.
Not ready to forget her feelings for Sean too quickly, she purposed in her heart to focus her energy on nursing Áedach and Peg and meditating on the Scriptures she would read to them each day.
Lord, don’t let my heart be distracted from what You’ve brought me here to do.
She formed the dough into a ball, cut an X in the top, and placed it in the oven.
And please give me wisdom with these two gentlemen, both of whom have managed to waltz their way into my heart too quickly.
The bread was still steaming when Moira wrapped it in cheesecloth and started out for Peg’s house. She wanted to check on her friend before making her way to Áedach’s for the day’s visit. While Peg recovered and Sean was busy with work, they’d all agreed Moira could tend to Áedach on her own during the day. And with the children all but forbidden to attend classes, Moira’s days were her own. How long could that go on? How long before her job would be officially ripped from her and given to another?
As she walked along the hillside, the sea churned, swirling this way and that, much like her own thoughts.
She was so lost in reflection, she found herself outside Peg’s door in what seemed an instant. Colm let her in and welcomed her with a fatherly kiss on the cheek. He gave her the prize of a bigger kiss on the cheek when she presented him with the freshly baked brown bread.
“Ah, ye’re a dear, lass.” He scurried into the kitchen with his treasure and reappeared just as quickly with a plate and a slab of butter. He motioned for her to join him at the table.
Moira sniggered into her hand as she watched Colm hack off a wedge of bread and slather it in the creamy butter, licking his lips like a child in a sweet shop.
“My Peg’s the best cook in Gweedore.” He sank his teeth into the bread and moaned in delight. “But since she’s been under the weather, she’s not been able ta cook, of course.” Crumbs flew as he spoke. “And ya don’t want me comin’ anywhere near a cooktop. It’s been near-moldy bread and whatever else I can scrounge together for the last few days.”
“And how is our patient?” Moira interjected when he paused for another bite. “It’s much quieter than it was last night. Has her cough settled down?”
“Aye. She’s still sleepin’ sound now.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Moira grimaced, imagining the work it would be for Peg to get butter stains out of a linen shirt.
“T’anks be to God, her chest cleared along wit’ the weather. I’d say another day or two an’ she’ll be right as rain.”
Moira released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank God, indeed!” Relief washed over her at the realization that Colm had been right in his diagnosis and that she hadn’t brought Áedach’s dreadful ailment into the Sweeny home.
“Well, enjoy the bread.” She pressed fists firmly to her hips and gave him a playful scowl. “I expect you to share with Peg, you know?”
Colm’s shoulders slumped and he pushed his lower lip out in a mocking pout. “Aw, do I hafta, marm?”
Hearty laughter enveloped them both as they made their way to the door. “Give my love to Peg, and let her know I’ll be by again tomorrow to call on her.”
“Will do, dear, will do.” He opened the door for her. “Ye keep yer wits about ye, lass. Ya never know who ye might run into, an’ who might try to run away wit’ yer heart.”
Moira laughed again, but one look at Colm’s face told her he wasn’t joking. She cleared her throat and straightened her stance. “I will, Colm. I promise.” Turning to head for Áedach’s, she couldn’t help but wonder why he would make such a remark.
Did he know about Sean’s innocent kiss to her hand? Surely word hadn’t gotten around about Declan? “It’s not like I did anything wrong.” The rock walls were fine conversation partners these days. “He was the one who took my hand—I didn’t pursue anything with the man. Besides, it was just a friendly handshake.”
“I thought it was a rather friendly handshake myself.”
Moira shrieked and jumped back. She’d been so busy talking to herself, she hadn’t seen Declan leaning against the hawthorn tree on the corner leading to Áedach’s road.
“Oh, good afternoon, Dec—eh, Mr. O’Malley.” Her steps quickened, and she glanced to see if anyone else was in the vicinity.
“Aw, do call me Declan.” He matched her pace, only walking backward. “Someone says ‘Mr. O’Malley’ and I look for my auld man.” He flashed his dimple and Moira melted inside again.
Why did he have to be so disarmingly handsome? And charming? “Mr. O’Malley, we only just met this morning. I hardly think it appropriate for me to refer to you by your first name.”
He spun to face forward, still matching her stride. “Have it your way. But mark my words, I’ll have you saying my name before you know it.”
She looked at the road ahead but could feel him staring at her. Heat stung her cheeks, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling under his gaze.
“So, where are you off to in such a hurry, Miss Doherty?” He leaned in as close to her ear as he could while keeping pace and whispered, “Or should I say ‘Moira’?”
She stumbled at the warmth of his breath on her ear, and he deftly circled an arm around her waist to steady her.
“Ahem, Miss Doherty will suffice, thank you.” She righted herself and stepped out of his embrace. “One of my students is quite ill and has no one to care for him. Peg Sweeny and I have been nursing him back to health. Unfortunately, she’s fallen ill herself—not with the same ailment, thanks be to God—so I’m on my own for the next day or so.” As soon as she’d said it, she wished she hadn’t let Declan know she was going to be out here alone. His forward behavior, while somewhat enchanting, gave her pause.
“Well, I think what ye’re doin’s just wonderful.” He slowed his pace and clasped his hands behind his back, as if to reassure her of his intentions. “Not many would give the time and energy to do that for someone who couldn’t repay the kindness.”
Moira’s mouth opened slightly. “Repayment never entered my mind.”
“Oh, no! I didn’t mean to imply—”
She kept walking, eyes forward. “I just meant to say I had reservations about helping the lad, but I hadn’t ever considered his ability to pay. Or repay.”
“Well, like I said, I think it’s admirable.” Declan looked at her until she met his gaze. They smiled at one another, and the familiar heat returned to her cheeks.
Declan shifted his gaze forward and stopped. “Well, it’s quite the small world here in Ballymann, isn’t it?”
Moira followed his gaze.
Sean was leaning against the rock wall under Áedach’s tree.