37
SEATED IN THE DINING ROOM at her family’s Long Island home with her cat Petunia dozing on the floor beside her, Aurora sipped her coffee and opened the morning paper. It had been three weeks since the start of the war in Europe, three weeks since Gabe had left, yet Aurora still couldn’t quite believe it had happened. She scanned the newspaper for articles about the war, almost as though she could find word of Gabe on the pages. Yet any news concerning the fighting did little to reassure her.
She turned the page, attempting to suppress the melancholy that plagued her so often of late. Gabe had promised he would come back one day, and she believed he would keep his promise if it was in his power to do so. But in reality, it could be years before the war ended, before he was able to make his way across the ocean again. And what if something terrible happened to him before then?
“Aurora, you have a visitor.” Papa entered the room, a smile beaming under his handlebar mustache.
She sighed and lowered the newspaper. “Who is it?”
“It’s Dr. Reardon. He’s waiting in the parlor.”
Aurora’s heart climbed into her throat. “What is he doing in Long Island?”
“He came to see you. Don’t keep the good man waiting, daughter.”
Aurora hadn’t seen Dr. Reardon since the end of the epidemic. Holed up here at her parents’ home, nursing wounds of her own, she hadn’t been able to face going back to the city just yet. He must wonder what had become of her.
She smoothed her hair into the knot at her nape, adjusted her skirt, and made her way to the parlor.
Philip stood at the window, gazing out over the gardens. He whirled around at the sound of her entering the room. In a gray suit and tie, he cut a very handsome figure, quite different from his usual white coat. The sight of him brought both comfort and pain, for he, too, reminded her of Gabe.
“Hello, Aurora. You look lovely as always.”
Aurora hid her surprise at his compliment with a gracious nod. “What brings you all the way out here, Doctor?”
He inclined his head. “Surely you could call me Philip since we’re not at work?”
She nodded. “Very well, Philip. Won’t you sit down?” She gestured to the sofa along the far wall.
They each took a seat, keeping a respectable distance between them.
Aurora forced her mouth into a smile. “You haven’t answered my question. What brings you here?”
“I have news for you from Bellevue, and I wanted to deliver it in person.” He pulled an envelope from inside his jacket. “It came to my office since I was the one who sponsored you.”
Her heart thundered against her ribs as she accepted the envelope. “Do you know what it says?”
He smiled. “I have a fair idea, but why don’t you open it and find out?”
With trembling fingers, she ripped open the flap and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She scanned the words on the page.
Congratulations on your acceptance into the Bellevue Nursing Program.
The rest of the words faded away. She looked up at Philip, blinking back tears of joy. “I’ve been accepted.”
“I had no doubt you would.” He beamed at her like a proud teacher. “Congratulations, Aurora.”
Gratitude swelled in her chest. “Thank you, Philip, for everything. Without your mentorship and recommendation, this would never have been possible.”
In the rush of joy, she leaned over to kiss his cheek. However, he misread her intention and pulled her to him, kissing her fully on the lips.
Shock stiffened her spine, the paper fluttering from her fingers. She pulled away from him as if scorched and jumped to her feet. “Forgive me, Philip. I merely meant to thank you . . .”
He rose and took her hand in his. “Please don’t apologize. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time now. In fact, I came here to do more than kiss you. I came to ask you to marry me.”
Aurora’s mouth gaped open. Several emotions struggled to gain hold of her. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“First, let me be clear. I fully support your schooling. We can wait to be married until you’ve finished.”
His earnest expression shamed her. He’d been nothing but kind and supportive of her. How could she turn him down after everything he’d done? Yet how could she accept him when her heart belonged to another?
“This has all happened so suddenly, Philip. I’m afraid I don’t—”
He held up a hand as though anticipating her refusal. “Please don’t answer right now. Take some time to think about it.” He gave her a smile tinged with disappointment. “Again, my sincere congratulations on your achievement.” With a lingering kiss to her cheek, he picked up his hat and left the room.
After he’d gone, Aurora leaned her head against the back of the settee and blinked back tears that came too easily these days. Somehow she’d have to find a way to let Philip down gently and pray that he could accept her refusal without it affecting her career.
Oh Gabe, I wish you were here.
Just over two weeks after the shooting, the doctor deemed Adam improved enough to leave the hospital. Gil and Brianna arrived to pick him up in their father’s auto. Adam accepted their assistance down the long corridor, mildly disappointed that Maggie wasn’t there to see him walk out of the hospital on his own steam.
Colleen and Mama had fought over where he would recuperate, but Adam had decided it would be easier at Irish Meadows, with plenty of room and servants to assist in his care. Plus it would give him a chance to solidify his new relationship with his father.
Brianna helped Adam into the backseat of the motorcar. Gil stowed his bag, then came around to the driver’s side, started the car, and pulled away from the curb.
While Gil maneuvered the car through the crowded streets, Adam tried to find a comfortable position where his injury didn’t pain him. He peered at the back of Gil’s and Brianna’s heads. “Why didn’t you send Sam to get me? You two must have better things to do now that your wedding is almost here.”
Brianna twisted to give him a sad smile. “Actually, we’ve postponed the wedding for a few weeks so Mama will have longer to regain her strength.”
Adam nodded. “Probably a wise decision.” He winced as the car hit a bump and jostled his shoulder, wishing he’d taken a last dose of laudanum.
His stay in the hospital had given him many hours to ponder his future. Almost dying, and almost losing Maggie to that madman, had put things in perspective for him. His shop, the furniture he’d created—they didn’t define who he was, didn’t measure his worth. His worthiness came from God, from belonging to Him and living a life according to His word. Perhaps Adam had to lose all his material possessions to see what truly mattered.
Loving God, loving his family . . . and loving Maggie.
His sweet, brave Maggie. Adam’s heart squeezed at the thought of the sacrifice she’d been willing to make for him—leaving with Fitzgerald in order to keep Adam from harm. If by some miracle she still wanted him after he recovered, Adam wasn’t going to be foolish enough to turn her away again.
Adam swiped the moisture from his eyes and turned his focus to the streets outside the car window. He frowned at the sight of the familiar surroundings. “What are we doing here?”
Gil slowed the car to a stop across from Adam’s shop and pulled up the parking brake. “A small detour before going home.”
He scowled. “There’s nothing to see but rubble.”
Brianna opened the door for him. “Why don’t you let us be the judge?”
With little choice, Adam followed Gil and Brianna across the street, only to stop dead in front of his shop. The bricks still bore the scorch marks of the fire, but a new door and windows graced the front.
“Who did this?” His voice rasped like a rusty pipe.
“You’ll have to go in and find out.” Brianna winked at him.
Gil held the door for Adam to enter. He stopped just inside, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. Gleaming wooden floors shone in the interior. The walls and ceiling had been restored, along with a new counter and shelving, very similar to the ones that had been there before. The whole room smelled of freshly cut wood and varnish.
Shockwaves coursed through his body, leaving him reeling. Only the faintest scent of smoke gave evidence of the fire that had all but destroyed the place.
“How is this possible?” Adam spoke almost to himself as he moved toward his former workshop.
Inside, leaning against a wooden workbench, John grinned at him. “Welcome home.”
Adam stared around the room at the assortment of tools hanging on pegs, at the pile of wood neatly stacked in one corner, and at the few pieces of furniture he’d managed to rescue, which now sat against the wall.
His stunned gaze returned to John. “You did all this?” He couldn’t believe so much had been done in such a short amount of time. It would have taken an army.
“Not quite.” John straightened. “You’ve heard of barn raisings? Well, we had a shop raising.” He let out a shrill whistle, and the back door opened.
A flood of men poured in, cheering and waving their hats.
John gestured to them. “Thanks to your fellow parishioners, who all came together to help, we have the basic structure restored. Ready for you to make more furniture.”
Adam fought the onslaught of emotion that clogged his throat as he scanned the group of men. Some he recognized, some he’d never met before. “H-how can I ever thank you for this?”
One man stepped forward, grinning. “No thanks needed. Unless you let me place your first order. My wife needs a rocking chair. She’s expecting our first babe around Christmas.”
“And I could use a dining table.”
More remarks flew around as the men came forward to shake Adam’s hand. He thanked each one, his mind a haze of disbelief.
Slowly they all trooped out the rear door, except for John—and one man who had lingered against the back wall. The air seized in Adam’s lungs as he stared at his father.
“When were you going to tell me you’d started your own business?” For once his father’s blue gaze held no disapproval, no censure, only curiosity.
Adam cleared his throat and attempted to banish the fog from his brain. “Once it became a success.”
A dark brow rose. “That could take years.”
Adam shifted his weight, at a loss for something to say.
“Wait here.” James went out the back door and returned moments later with a small table—one Adam recognized from the parlor at Irish Meadows.
“Your mother’s been after me for years to refinish this for her.” His father shrugged. “Turns out, unless it’s repairing a paddock fence, I’m not much good at woodworking.” He set the table on the floor. “I know she’d be thrilled if you’d restore it for her.”
Adam swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “I’d be happy to.”
John came up and clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “James was a big help in getting this place repaired. He supplied most of the materials and put in some hard labor, as well.”
His father came forward, hand outstretched. “I hope this will mark a new beginning for both of us.”
Adam’s chest constricted with an ache completely unrelated to his injury as he shook his father’s hand. “I have no words to thank you both for what you’ve done.” He turned to shake John’s hand, as well.
His friend gave him a broad grin. “There’s someone else who deserves your thanks. She’s the one who got this project started. James and I simply rounded up the workers.”
Adam’s heart gave a hard lurch. “She?”
John gestured to the staircase leading up to the living quarters. “I believe she’s waiting for you.”
Adam swallowed and turned to his father. “Will you tell Bree and Gil that I’ll be out in a minute?”
His father chuckled. “Certainly.”
Adam made his way to the staircase and slowly climbed the steps. When he entered the room, he couldn’t believe the transformation. The walls had been whitewashed, the restored woodstove sparkled, and a new table and chairs sat against the wall. Instead of the narrow cot he’d been using, a metal-framed double bed dominated the space, with his blue quilt from home covering the mattress. He reached out to finger the soft fabric and blinked back the moisture that stung his eyes.
Maggie appeared out of the shadows, light glowing on the dark hair framing her face. “Your mother insisted I bring it for you as her contribution to your new home.”
He moved toward her like a magnet seeking true north. “You’re responsible for all this?”
She folded her hands in front of her green linen skirt. “I only made the suggestion. John and your father gathered the people to do the work.” She waved a hand. “Though I did paint these walls.”
His throat tight, he reached out to draw her to him. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve given me back my hope, my purpose, my future.”
A smile softened her features. “That was my intent, since it was my fault you lost everything.”
“Not everything.” He ran a finger down the silk of her cheek and then, unable to hold back a moment longer, he kissed her, his heart nearly bursting from his chest with love.
She eagerly returned his kiss, until at last she pulled away with a shaky laugh. “So, do you like your new bed? A dear lady from John’s church donated it, since she and her husband are moving across the country to live with their son.”
A lightness he’d not felt in ages invaded his being. “It will do, though I’m not sure it’s big enough.”
She frowned at him. “It’s a far cry from the cot you had before.”
He tugged a tempting curl hanging over her shoulder. “But is it big enough for two?”
Delicious color bled into her cheeks along with a look of outrage. “What are you insinuating, Adam O’Leary?”
He couldn’t keep the amusement from his face. “Only that my wife may want something bigger.”
“Well, if your wife is any kind of decent woman, she’d be happy just to have you.”
With his good arm, he crushed her to him and captured her lips for a kiss that left no doubt as to whom he wished to marry.
“Maggie Montgomery, I love you more than my very life, and I’ll spend every day from now on making you happy—if you’ll agree to become my wife.”
Her eyes became shimmering pools of heather. “I love you, too, Adam, and I’d be proud to be your wife.” She threw her arms around his neck with such vigor that he groaned.
She gasped. “Your shoulder. I’m sorry.”
But he held her fast. “It’s worth the pain.”
His lips sought hers once more, until a loud bang from below interrupted the embrace.
“Adam?” Brianna’s voice floated up the stairs. “I hate to rush you, but Mama will be frantic if we don’t get you home.”
“Be right down.” He paused to steal one more kiss. “How would you feel about a double wedding?”
Maggie laughed and shook her head. “A lovely thought, but I would never intrude on Brianna’s day. She’s waited too long for it.”
“You’re right.” He grinned. “How about a Thanksgiving wedding, then?”
“Why don’t you concentrate on recovering from your injury and we’ll discuss this later?” Her eyes overflowed with love. “Thankfully we have all the time in the world.”