33

SEATED IN RYLAN MONTGOMERY’S OFFICE, Jo admired the intricate woodwork of the bookshelves and the large mahogany desk. Even after a week of working at the orphanage, she was still in awe of the building’s elegant décor. Before she’d arrived, she’d pictured a stark, hospital-like setting. Nothing like this stylish establishment fit for royalty.

In fact, Jo loved everything about St. Rita’s—the couple who ran it, the adorable children, even the austere nuns who lived on the third floor.

It hadn’t taken her long to use the information Connor had given her and set up an appointment with Rylan Montgomery to discuss potential employment. Anything had to be better than the fourteen-hour days of grueling labor at the Bingham estate.

Though nervous at her first meeting with Rylan, she’d soon felt at ease with the handsome Irishman. After a recommendation from Connor, he’d hired her on the spot, even offering to drive her back to Long Island to pick up her things.

Jo shook off her musings at the sound of muffled footfalls on the carpeted floor.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Miller.” Rylan entered the room, a wide grin on his face. “One thing you’ll learn quickly around here is you never know what each day will bring.”

She smiled. “Please call me Jo.”

“Jo it is. Though somehow Josephine seems more fitting for the lovely young lady in front of me.” He winked at her, sending a blast of heat to her cheeks.

“Flirting with the staff again, Mr. Montgomery?” Colleen swished through the door, brows arched.

Rylan only grinned wider. “Aye, but you know I only have eyes for you, darlin’.” He kissed Colleen’s cheek and helped his very pregnant wife onto a chair.

The obvious adoration in Rylan’s gaze matched his wife’s. What would it be like to have such a wonderful husband?

Jo’s thoughts swung to Connor with a tug of regret. Though she loved working with Colleen, her resemblance to Connor was a constant reminder of how much Jo missed seeing him every day.

Rylan took his seat behind the desk. “Jo, we wanted to have a chat and make sure you were enjoying your job here. Is there anything else you need?”

“Goodness, no. You’ve both been so kind already. I love working with the children. And my room is”—she paused to contain her emotions—“well, it’s the nicest room I’ve ever had. I truly can’t believe my good fortune.”

All thanks to Connor.

“And you’re a godsend to us, since my beautiful wife can now slow down a bit. With the holidays coming, there’s much work to be done.”

Colleen shifted on her seat and grimaced. “Which brings us to another reason we wished to speak with you. Our tradition here on Christmas Day is to take the children to church, come back for brunch, and then open presents. Once the excitement dies down, the nuns take over while Rylan and I and our children spend the rest of the day at Irish Meadows.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jo fought to keep the wistfulness from her voice.

“We’d like you to join us—if you have no other plans.” Colleen’s kind gaze filled Jo with inexplicable emotion.

Christmas at Irish Meadows? Though the thought of seeing Connor was definitely appealing, she couldn’t imagine enduring Mr. O’Leary’s disapproval. “Thank you, but I’ve promised to spend the day with my brother. The Sullivans put on a Christmas meal for their employees and families.” She’d only talked to Seth once since he’d taken a position as a stable hand, so she was more than glad to receive his invitation.

“Well, you could still drop by my parents’ afterward. We usually have singing and games going on all evening.”

Jo forced a smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

A private look passed between Colleen and her husband. Rylan stood. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have a matter to see to.” He dropped another kiss on his wife’s cheek before bounding from the room.

Jo’s stomach swirled with instant tension. It was obvious Colleen wanted to be alone with her, though Jo couldn’t fathom why.

Colleen gave Jo a blinding smile. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your position here. It was thoughtful of my brother to recommend you for it.”

She seemed to expect Jo to answer. “Very thoughtful,” she said carefully, feeling like she was walking on ice about to crack.

Colleen arched a brow. “Do you know Connor calls almost daily to ask about you? To make sure you’re happy in your job.”

Jo’s heart turned a slow somersault in her chest. “He does?” Her eyes stung with sudden tears that she blinked away. Connor cared enough to find her this job and even inquire after her. Every day.

“Indeed, he does.” Colleen pursed her lips, studying Jo. “It’s pretty evident that Connor has strong feelings for you. What I’d like to know is . . . how do you feel about him?”

A streak of heat followed by a chill raced up Jo’s spine at Colleen’s question. “I . . . I don’t understand why you’re asking this.”

Colleen grinned. “Because I’m an incurable matchmaker and I believe my brother may be in love with you.”

“Oh.” The air whooshed from Jo’s lungs, replaced by a rush of panic. She fought to clear her head. “It doesn’t matter how I feel because your father would never allow Connor to be involved with someone like me. He made his views very clear when he caught us kiss—” Jo bit back a groan at her slip.

Colleen’s eyes gleamed. “Daddy caught you and Connor kissing?” She laughed out loud. “This just keeps getting better. I think you definitely need to come to Irish Meadows on Christmas, Jo.”

A bead of perspiration slid down Jo’s back. “But what about your father?”

“Don’t worry about Daddy. He’s never approved of any of his children’s partners initially. It just takes him a while to warm up to the idea.” She laughed again. “Now we just need to find you the perfect dress.”

Three days after leaving Toronto, Deirdre stretched under the eiderdown quilt on the large brass bed in her nieces’ cozy attic room. This was exactly what she needed. A brief respite, surrounded by the unconditional love of Colleen and her family, while she allowed her bruised heart to heal.

Deirdre had come straight to her sister’s house from the train station, unwilling to face her parents until she’d had time to lick her wounds. She’d spent two whole days sleeping, barely coming down to eat. Colleen must have sensed Deirdre’s need to nurse her pain in private, for she hadn’t pushed her to tell her tale. But last night, after Colleen had put the two youngest Montgomerys to bed, Deirdre had finally spilled the details of her unexpected feelings for Matthew. To her great relief, Colleen had listened and expressed copious amounts of sympathy without suggesting some crazy plan to win Matthew’s heart. Perhaps pregnancy had mellowed her sister.

Now, on her third day of sanctuary at Colleen and Rylan’s brownstone, Deirdre repacked her suitcase and took a fortifying breath. It was time to go home. Time to get back to Mama’s therapy and help her regain her independence—so Deirdre could regain hers.

Perhaps by now Uncle Victor would have news about a possible medical placement. If not, Deirdre planned to contact Aunt Fiona, Daddy’s sister, who worked for Barnard College. As a distinguished university professor, her aunt might be able to use her influence to secure a place for Deirdre in one of the local universities. That way she could still be close enough to assist Mama if needed.

Voices in the kitchen drifted up the staircase as Deirdre descended. The distinct Irish lilt made Deirdre smile. Her sister-in-law, Maggie, must be visiting. With her cheerful personality and unquenchable optimism, Maggie was one of Deirdre’s favorite people.

Sure enough, Maggie and Colleen sat at the kitchen table, a pot of tea gracing the middle.

“Deirdre!” Maggie popped up to envelop Deirdre in a warm embrace. “I’m so sorry to hear of your troubles, love.” Her gray eyes swam with sympathy.

Colleen struggled to her feet as well. “I hope you don’t mind. I told Maggie about your . . . situation.”

Deirdre gave a quick smile, thankful her supply of tears seemed to be dried up. “Of course not. We’re family after all.” She frowned. “But why aren’t you at the orphanage today?”

Colleen pulled a mug from the cupboard. “Rylan insisted I stay home. He even invited Maggie over to baby-sit me.” She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated display as they all took a seat at the table.

Maggie laughed. “It’s no hardship, trust me. Especially since the older children are in school. And wee Molly likes to sit with the nuns.”

“Take advantage while you can.” Colleen winked at her.

Deirdre’s eyes widened. “Not you, too?”

A blush colored Maggie’s cheeks. “I’m afraid so. Three O’Leary babies are on the way, though Brianna and I aren’t due until spring.”

Deirdre smiled. “Congratulations. Adam must be thrilled.”

“Aye. I’m surprised he can fit his big head through the door,” she said with affection.

From across the hall, the telephone rang. Colleen sighed. “Maggie, could you answer that? I can’t rush in this condition.”

“Certainly.” Maggie rose and darted across the hall to the parlor.

Moments later, she returned, her eyes filled with tears. “That was your father. I’m afraid your mother’s had a bad fall. He wants Deirdre to come home right away.”

Matthew stared out the window of his study at the gray view in front of him. Melancholy hovered around him like a black cloud. Not even the news that Victor had found two potential backers for his therapy clinic could cheer Matthew.

He let the curtain fall back into place and turned to his desk, staring at the unruly mound of books and papers. He had no interest in anything as mundane as paperwork. Not since Deirdre had left him.

Like everyone seemed to.

Matthew glanced at the calendar on his desk. Mid-December already. Soon the city would begin its preparations for Christmas. The crèche would go up in his church, awaiting the Baby Jesus on Christmas Eve. Likely Victor and Maimie would invite him for dinner, or perhaps this year the Pentergasts would include him in their festivities. For Phoebe’s sake, Matthew would have to dredge up some sort of Christmas spirit.

Yet his heart remained encased in a cement-like wall. Nothing, it seemed, could penetrate it. He hadn’t even mustered the energy to interview the candidates for a new nanny, imposing instead on Maimie’s good nature to care for Phoebe. Sooner or later, however, he’d have to hire someone to take Deirdre’s place.

He sank onto his chair and bowed his head over his hands, attempting to corral his thoughts into some semblance of prayer. Only with the Almighty’s help would he be able to get over the pain of Deirdre’s departure. He’d known she’d leave them eventually but had thought he’d have time to prepare, time to ease Phoebe into the idea. Maybe plan a little good-bye party. Deirdre’s abrupt parting had left him reeling, stirring up the pain of all his past wounds.

Matthew blasted out a loud sigh. He’d thought he’d returned to his faith, but at the first sign of adversity, his trust in God became buried in self-pity. Some Christian he’d turned out to be.

A knock pulled his attention to the door.

Victor entered the room. “Good morning, Matthew. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. Mrs. Potts has gone to get Phoebe ready.”

Matthew rose. “Did I miss something? I wasn’t aware you were picking Phoebe up.”

“I wanted to speak with you about a personal matter, so I decided to come here and save you the trip.” He gestured to the chairs. “May I?”

Matthew gave himself a mental shake. “Of course.” Whatever Victor wanted to talk about must be serious. “I hope nothing is wrong with Maimie.”

“Maimie’s fine. I wanted to talk to you about . . . Deirdre.”

Alarm twisted Matthew’s midsection. “Is she all right?”

“I wouldn’t know since I haven’t spoken to her since she left. We did, however, have quite an interesting conversation the morning of her departure.”

Matthew took a moment to let his system settle. “I understand you offered to find her a place in another medical school. That was nice of you.” He tidied some papers on his desk, uncomfortable under Victor’s direct gaze.

“Do you know the real reason Deirdre left so abruptly?” Victor asked.

“I believe so.”

“Then you know it’s because she’s in love with you. That it would be too hard to stay here knowing you didn’t return her feelings.”

Heat flashed up Matthew’s neck. He pressed his lips into a hard line to keep from blurting out something he’d regret.

Victor’s gaze narrowed. “But you and I both know that isn’t true. You do have feelings for Deirdre, very strong feelings, I’d venture to say. But for some unknown reason, you’re unwilling to do anything about it.”

“That is my business.” Matthew shoved away from the desk and walked to the window. He stared out blindly, as though the scenery could soothe his angst.

“Matthew, I realize your marriage to Priscilla was less than ideal, but you can’t judge your relationship with Deirdre by that flawed yardstick. I mean no disrespect to your late wife, but Deirdre is nothing like her. She’s strong, loving, and kind. And she shares your passion for healing. She wouldn’t resent your career like Priscilla did. Don’t you think you owe Deirdre the truth about your feelings?”

Matthew whirled to face him. “To what end, Victor? If she gives up her dream of becoming a doctor to marry me, she would eventually resent me for a whole different reason.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Don’t you see? I only make the women in my life unhappy.”

Victor frowned as he pushed to his feet. “You mustn’t compare Deirdre to Priscilla—”

“It’s not only Priscilla. I couldn’t make my mother happy either.” A sigh of exasperation leaked from his lungs. “After my brother died, I tried everything in my power to please her, to make her smile again, yet my presence only seemed to irritate her. The more I tried to be near her, the more she pushed me away. Until one day, she decided she had nothing to live for. Certainly I was not worth living for.” Matthew closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists to stop the tremors that coursed through him. Why had he said anything?

Victor came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “My dear boy, you must realize that when someone is in enough pain to end their life, there is little anyone can do. Certainly not a child. If anything, your father should have gotten her psychiatric help.”

Matthew shook his head. His father had been mired in his own grief, barely able to cope himself, never mind help his wife.

Victor squeezed his shoulder. “I’m afraid,” he said in a quiet voice, “that if you’re not careful, the cycle will continue with Phoebe. She will believe that after her mother died, she wasn’t enough for you. Because you went through life miserable.”

The air clogged Matthew’s lungs.

“You need to understand that your mother’s death did not negate her love for you. She simply wasn’t strong enough to overcome the pain. Don’t let that tragedy define your life, your relationships. Put the past behind you once and for all—for Phoebe’s sake.”

Matthew’s eyes burned as he turned to look at his friend. “I don’t know, Victor. What if I open myself up and it doesn’t work? What will happen to Phoebe then?”

Victor’s kind face was wreathed in sadness. “No one has the answer to that, I’m afraid. Not even the Almighty himself. Sometimes all you can do is reach out in faith and let God do the rest.”

“Excuse me, sir.” Mrs. Potts appeared in the open doorway. “Miss Phoebe is ready to go.”

Matthew attempted to pull himself together. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts. We’ll be right out.”

“I hope you’ll forgive my interference, my boy. You are like the son I never had, and I only want you to be happy.” He clapped Matthew on the back. “Give it some thought and prayer. I’ll see you later at the hospital.”

Once Victor and Phoebe had gone, Matthew sat in front of the fire and tried to clear his head. Victor’s words played over and over like a gramophone stuck in a groove. No matter how he tried, Matthew could not dispute the truth of his statements.

They left the metallic taste of fear on his tongue. Could he let go of his long-held beliefs about Priscilla and his mother and risk opening his heart?

He thought back to the cherished moments spent with Deirdre. The bond they’d forged at the cabin, their first kiss, holding her when she’d lost her position in medical school, their shared elation at winning custody . . .

His whole being ached from missing her vivacious presence, her bright eyes, her infectious smile. Yet he understood why she’d left. That she was not only protecting herself, but she was saving Phoebe from getting even more attached to her.

The sharp ring of the telephone on his desk jarred Matthew from his thoughts.

While he really didn’t want to speak to anyone, he couldn’t afford to miss a call from the potential investors Victor had said might call today.

With a reluctant sigh, he crossed to the desk and picked up the phone.

“Matthew? It’s James O’Leary.”

Matthew stiffened, the mere mention of the name O’Leary bringing with it a jolt of pain. “James. What can I do for you?”

“It’s Kathleen. She’s had a bad fall and suffered a major relapse.” His voice cracked. “She’s asking for you. I hate to impose a second time, but could you come back and assess the situation? Tell us where to go from here?”

Matthew’s fingers froze around the receiver. Go back to Irish Meadows where he’d have to face Deirdre again? Impossible.

“I’m sure Deirdre can handle any—”

“You don’t understand. Deirdre can’t get through to her. Kathleen won’t even lift her arm to eat. All she does is beg for you.”

Matthew gouged his hand through his hair. Had this been his fault? Did he leave too soon, abandoning a patient before treatment was complete?

“I’m only asking for a week or so,” James said. “Then maybe you can help me find someone locally to take on her continued care.”

Guilt swamped him. He owed Kathleen that much at least. Besides, he still had to go back and get Phoebe’s puppy. “Very well. I’ll try to get a train out tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Matthew.” James’s relief was palpable. “You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Matthew hung up the receiver, his hands unsteady, his mind spinning. What would he do about Phoebe? As much as he hated the idea of leaving her, he couldn’t bring her with him. Couldn’t subject her to seeing Deirdre and the O’Learys once more only to rip her away again.

As a show of good faith, he would ask the Pentergasts to look after her until he returned. The thought of being separated for even a week made his stomach cramp. He took a deep breath and attempted to will away his fear. Terrence was a doctor. Phoebe would be in excellent hands.

Matthew would use this as a first step in loosening his grip on his daughter.

And a test of his own strength at seeing Deirdre again.