20
AFTER A DELICIOUS SUNDAY DINNER of roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, topped off with apple pie, Matthew pushed his chair away from the O’Learys’ dining table and laid a hand over his stomach. If he kept eating this well, he’d have to start engaging in regular exercise to keep his weight under control. A deep sense of contentment lulled him into a state of total relaxation, a feeling so foreign, he almost didn’t recognize it.
Beside him, Phoebe tugged on his sleeve. “Papa, when is my birthday?”
Matthew pulled himself from his food-induced stupor, allowing the thrill of her sweet voice to raise his spirits. “Very soon. Why?”
“Mrs. Harrison says she’ll make me a special cake.” Her blue eyes danced with excitement.
He marveled at how easily children found happiness.
Deirdre leaned across the table, seeming as excited as Phoebe. “We should have a birthday party to celebrate. Betsy, Rose, and Sean will want to come.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “A party for me?”
“That’s right. We’ll have cake and presents and games. It’s just what we need around here.”
“I agree.” Kathleen clapped her hands, looking in that instant like a young girl herself. “Brianna can help us arrange it. And we’ll invite Colleen and Adam and their families, too.”
Matthew’s relaxed state vanished. He did a mental tally of how many people that would involve and fought an ensuing surge of alarm. As usual, any time he pictured Phoebe in the midst of a large group of people, his anxiety level shot skyward. Even though Phoebe’s health had improved significantly since coming to Irish Meadows, he still couldn’t get rid of the inherent worry. Both Adam and Colleen lived in the city. Colleen and her husband Rylan worked in an orphanage, where they’d be exposed to numerous germs on a daily basis. What if they brought an illness into this house?
Matthew wanted to put an end to all talk of parties, but the look of awe on Phoebe’s face melted his objections.
He would have to figure out a way to overcome his fear and cope with the situation because disappointing Phoebe was not an option.
Deirdre followed Matthew into the parlor, wanting to find out why he’d suddenly gone quiet and left the table. She hoped he wasn’t mad about her suggestion for a birthday celebration. She really ought to have discussed it with him first, but the idea had just sort of burst forth on its own.
He stood at the French doors overlooking the snow-covered balcony, his hands clasped behind his back.
She came up beside him. “Is having a party for Phoebe a problem?” she asked. “You didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the idea.”
He turned his head, and the distress in his gaze caused her heart to flop in her chest.
“Phoebe’s never had a birthday party before,” he said.
“Never?”
He shook his head. “Priscilla took sick around the time Phoebe turned two, and Phoebe was in the sanatorium for her third birthday. Afterward . . . well, with her health so fragile, I didn’t want her around a lot of people.”
“Is that why you’re anxious now? You fear there will be too many people?”
He gave a wan smile. “Old habits die hard, I suppose. I still find it difficult to let Phoebe . . . be a child. My first instinct is always to hide her away where no harm can come to her.”
Sympathy spread through her, and she laid a hand on his arm. “It will get easier in time, I promise.” She smiled, grateful that Matthew seemed to have gotten past the lingering awkwardness in her presence and could confide in her once again.
His gaze locked with hers, drawing her to him. Foolish as it was, she longed for him to kiss her again. The thrill of their last embrace still resonated inside her, making her yearn for more than just friendship. Would he ever let down his guard again?
A throat cleared behind them. “I hope we’re not interrupting.” Mama’s amused voice lilted across the room.
Heat flared in Deirdre’s cheeks as Connor wheeled her mother into the room with Phoebe beside them.
“Not at all,” Deirdre replied. “We were just discussing the party.”
“Must be some discussion.” Connor threw her a cheeky grin. “If you’ll excuse me, Daddy wants to see me in his study.”
Phoebe skipped across the room to seize Deirdre’s hand, her fingers slightly sticky from the pie. “Miss Deirdre? Could we invite my grandma and grandpa to the party?”
Deirdre brushed a wisp of blond hair from the girl’s cheek. Looking into the earnest little face, her heart swelled with love. “You’ll have to ask your father about that.”
Matthew bent to the girl’s level. “Your grandparents are away on a trip. And even if they weren’t, Toronto is far away.”
Phoebe frowned, and then her face brightened. “They could take the train like we did.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to come. But don’t worry, we’ll see them again very soon. Once we finish Mrs. O’Leary’s treatment, we’ll be going home.”
Deirdre had a fair idea Phoebe thought they’d be staying at Irish Meadows indefinitely, and braced herself for the girl’s reaction.
Sure enough, tears filled Phoebe’s eyes. “I don’t want to go home. I like it here. Why can’t we live here?”
The torment on Matthew’s face tore at Deirdre’s composure as much as Phoebe’s distress. She swung the girl up in her arms. “Maybe you could come for a visit in the summer and learn to ride Twizzle.” She hoped her false cheeriness would lift the girl’s spirits.
The tears seemed to vanish. “I could go swimming with Betsy and Rose.”
“That would be fun. But for now, let’s think about your party. You must tell Mrs. Harrison your favorite kind of cake.”
Her ploy worked. Phoebe’s eyes lit up, and she began to describe the flavors she loved.
Deirdre met Matthew’s grateful gaze over the girl’s head.
“Thank you,” he mouthed.
Deirdre nodded, very glad she didn’t have to speak. Phoebe wasn’t the only one who’d have trouble coping when it came time for the Claybornes to leave.
Connor knocked on the door to his father’s study, then pushed into the room. As usual, Daddy sat behind the massive mahogany desk, a ledger in front of him.
“I’m here. What did you want to see me about?” Connor plopped down in the leather chair facing the desk.
Daddy removed his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I need to discuss something with you.”
Connor’s spirits instantly nose-dived. “Is this about Excalibur?”
“As a matter of fact, it is. The McCreadys are coming by next weekend to see what type of progress you’ve made with him.” His eyes narrowed. “Should I be worried?”
Connor stiffened. He hadn’t spent as much time as he should have with the animal. Ever since he’d discovered Jo’s connection with the horse, he’d left Excalibur to her. “We’re getting close. My stable hand, Jo, managed to ride him around the enclosure the other day.”
His father’s brows dipped. “That’s a far cry from being ready to race.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“How do you plan to remedy the situation? If he’s not ready by spring, the McCreadys will expect a full refund.”
Connor ran a hand over his jaw. “I’ll make it my priority for the rest of the week. Jo has been doing some great work with him. We should be ready for a trial race soon.”
“Which brings me to my next topic.”
Connor swallowed hard and waited.
“Gil tells me you’ve allowed the new hand to take over Excalibur’s training.” His father’s piercing stare had the same effect on Connor as it had when he was a child. Suddenly he was ten years old again, waiting for punishment for one of his many pranks.
He met his father’s gaze. “Jo’s assisting me, yes.”
“Gil says this kid is still green, and while I admire your attempt to mentor the boy, the McCreadys are paying for your services, not those of a rookie stable hand.” Daddy closed the ledger. “As of today, I want your undivided attention on this horse. Leave the boy out of it.”
Connor scowled. In a matter of minutes, all his hard work had trickled away and only Gil’s opinion mattered. He stood, arms crossed, staring at his father. “Fine. I’ll devote all my time to Excalibur,” he said stiffly.
“Good. I’ll check with you in a few days to see how you’re progressing.”
Connor gave a curt nod and strode out the door. Tomorrow he’d have to figure out how to get Excalibur to respond to him without Jo around.
Connor feared that might be an impossible task.
Matthew pillowed his head on his arms and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, all thoughts of sleep far away. Down the hall, his daughter had fallen into a peaceful slumber, thanks to Deirdre and Mrs. Harrison’s talk of parties and birthday cakes.
Matthew sighed, replaying the night’s unsettling events. His daughter’s dependency on Deirdre and the O’Leary family was worse than he’d imagined. Even the addition of a puppy to their Toronto household might not be enough to ease Phoebe’s sorrow at having to leave Irish Meadows. Matthew needed to start preparing her for the reality that very soon they would be going home.
His thoughts turned to the dour Miss Shearing and the need to secure a new nanny. It seemed unfair to leave the woman believing she had a job to return to. In the morning, he would pen a letter of termination, as well as one to his housekeeper to begin interviewing candidates for the position. With any luck, by the time they arrived home, she’d have it narrowed down to the best of the lot.
He shifted to his side and punched his fist into the pillow. The real reason he couldn’t sleep churned in Matthew’s chest like a bad case of indigestion. Phoebe wasn’t the only one who’d be miserable to leave Irish Meadows. The thought of never seeing Deirdre again caused a deep ache inside him that nothing could alleviate.
This unwelcome longing continued to wreak havoc on his sanity, shaking his perceived control over his life. He felt trapped in a state of limbo. For even if he found the courage to take a risk and voice his feelings, Deirdre’s career stood in their way. Becoming a doctor required years of schooling and long hours as an intern. She would have no place in her life for a husband or stepdaughter. No matter how much Matthew and Phoebe might wish it.
Somehow, over the next few weeks, he’d have to learn to accept that fact—and say good-bye.