Chapter 40

Was this really happening for a second time? “Why hello, Mr. McFadden!” Moira said, grasping for words. “How lovely to see you!” Regret instantly filled her for not calling him Sean. “I was on my way here to care for Áedach when Mr. O’Malley met me on the road.”

“Quite an extraordinary lass Ballymann has for a teacher, eh, McFadden?”

“Indeed.” The familiar mixture of hurt and anger clouded Sean’s eyes. “I was at Colm’s earlier today and saw that Peg is still unwell. I thought ye might need my help again today wit’ the boy.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Sean.” She nodded. “I was worried I’d be on my own this time.”

“Well, now you have double the help!” Declan stepped forward until he was nearly toe-to-toe with Sean. The two men looked each other over for a moment, volumes spoken with their eyes.

“And you both have my thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient who needs tending.” She made her way over the wall, which proved much more difficult without Sean’s strong hand to help her, and went to see to Áedach.

The lad seemed much the same as he had the day before, and the day before that. Moira went through her routine as usual, straining to hear what might be transpiring on the other side of the wall. Would they resort to fisticuffs? Was she imagining it all, or did they seem to be challenging each other—over her?

If she was truly honest with herself, Sean’s quiet way coupled with his boisterous sense of humor settled a peace over her like she’d never known. He truly seemed to care for her well-being, as well as her reputation. He knew she was concerned, given the uncertainties surrounding her mother, and he seemed to go out of his way to ensure propriety at all times. Even his display of affection—if that’s truly what he’d intended it to be—was steeped in honor and consideration for her image in Ballymann.

But Declan. Moira couldn’t deny his brazen flirtations left her more on the side of uncomfortable than cherished. But when he looked at her with those sapphire eyes, and smiled at her punctuated with that dimple, all thoughts of propriety, manners, and reputations vanished and all that was left was the beating of her heart. But what did that mean? If she truly loved Sean, she wouldn’t have such intense feelings toward Declan. Would she?

“I never thought I’d say this, Áedach, but I envy you. Maybe I could sleep for a few weeks and wake up when this is all blown over, eh?”

Áedach lay, motionless, oblivious to the storm of emotions raging within Moira. Releasing a long sigh, she reached for her apron pocket and produced Peg’s ledger. “Let’s stay in Psalm 23 for a while, shall we?”

Sean eyed his childhood acquaintance who preened his hair like a dandy and resisted the urge to comment. Searching his mind for some topic of conversation, his thoughts turned to the unrest taking over the country.

“So, what news of the war?” he managed to ask at last.

Declan shrugged. “Things are progressing, so it would seem.” His eyes darted nervously.

“From what I hear, things are quite desperate in Dublin.”

Nervous laughter rumbled in Declan’s throat. “That’s one way to put it.”

Interesting. “Is that why you decided to come home?”

Declan toggled his head back and forth and shrugged. His eyes scanned the horizon as if searching for a change in subject.

“Good grief, is she always in there this long?” Declan paced a groove in front of the rock wall.

“If ye have someplace ta be, by all means, go right ahead. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Declan leveled a glare at Sean. “What is it with you and Moira, anyway? Is she promised to you?”

“It’s Miss Doherty to you. And, no, we’re not promised to each another—not that it’s any of yer business anyway.”

Declan grinned. Sean, willing himself to be the picture of confidence and calm, gripped the rock wall behind him until his knuckles turned white to keep from throttling the man where he stood. He refused to give Declan the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under his skin.

“It’s decided, then.” Declan stroked his chin and slowed his pacing until he stood directly in front of Sean. “May the best man win.”

Before Sean could respond, the door to Áedach’s hovel opened and out came Moira, squinting against the light. “You’re both still here, I see. Thank you for your services standing guard. The patient is much the same, and if you both don’t mind, I’ll be off to put my feet up and have a cup of tea.”

“I’ll walk you home,” both men offered in unison.

Moira’s eyes darted between them. Behind him Sean heard Declan chuckle. Declan pushed past Sean and reached across the wall, sweeping Moira over it before either one had a chance to protest.

“I didn’t want you to trip on that lovely dress.” Declan offered her the crook of his arm.

Sean’s fingers curled into a ball, and his teeth clenched so tight his head hurt.

Moira stood, motionless, looking from Sean to Declan and back to Sean. Though he wanted nothing more than to sweep Moira up in his own arms and ask her to be his for all time, he didn’t want to put any undue pressure on the lass. Sean bowed slightly at the waist and gestured toward Declan. “After you, Miss.”

A look of confusion flashed across Moira’s face. Then she pursed her lips, setting her jaw, and stepped toward Declan. She took his arm with a confidence Sean had never seen from her before. Was she cross with him? Was she flaunting Declan’s attentions?

The three walked up the lane, making their way to the main road that cut through the heart of Ballymann. Ahead of Sean, Declan prattled on about goodness knows what, while every once in a while, Moira would glance over her shoulder at Sean. When she saw him looking at her, she would straighten her posture and hang on Declan’s every word.

As they neared the main road, the ugly words Sean had heard said about Moira in the shop that morning echoed in his mind. If Moira was seen walking into town with not one but two single men of eligible age without a proper chaperone, the tongues of Ballymann wouldn’t stop wagging until the rapture. He wanted nothing more than to stay with them and keep his eye on Declan, to ensure he treated Moira with the respect she deserved, but he couldn’t bear the thought that he could possibly cause her reputation any further damage.

Sean cleared his throat. “I’ll be takin’ my leave here. I trust you’ll see Miss Doherty safely home?” His eyes bored into Declan’s, daring him to even think of laying a finger on her.

“Yes, of course. Good day, McFadden,” Declan said, returning the sharp gaze.

Moira’s brows knitted together, then arched. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along? You’re most welcome.”

I want nothing more, lass. “No, thanks. I’m to call in on our last thatch repair to see how it’s holdin’ up.”

She nodded and offered a sad-looking smile, before turning toward Declan. A thousand swords pierced Sean’s heart as he watched her take the man’s arm, her smile widening when she looked at his face.