37

PLAGUED ALL NIGHT BY DREAMS of Mr. O’Leary throwing her out of Irish Meadows, Jo gave up trying to sleep and rose early the next morning, before any of the children had stirred. It seemed the festivities of Christmas had worn them out, which was a good thing since it afforded her a peaceful start to the day.

She quickly braided her hair, thinking back to Connor driving her all the way out here. Had he made it back home without incident? Would he have confronted his father when he got back or waited until today?

With a sigh, she descended the back staircase, intent on starting breakfast for everyone.

She walked into the kitchen and gasped.

Connor stood at the stove, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, wielding a spatula over the cast-iron frying pan.

“Connor! What are you doing here?”

He turned with a grin. “Good morning, Jo. I hope you slept well.” He flipped a few eggs in the pan and then set the spatula down. “I realized after I left you last night that Colleen’s house was empty and that their poor old dog, Chester, would need tending to. Luckily I know where they keep their spare keys.”

Jo moved into the large room, her stomach growling at the delicious aroma of fried ham and eggs. A pot of coffee simmered on the back of the stove.

“I also remembered,” he continued as he took out a cup, “that Colleen always gives Mrs. Norton a few days off at Christmas, and with Colleen out at Irish Meadows, someone would need to cook breakfast. I got here right in the nick of time to save the nuns from having to do it. They were quite happy to let me take over and have some extra time for morning prayers.”

Connor pulled out a chair for her. She sat facing the stove, and he poured her a cup of coffee.

“It occurred to me, too, during the wee hours of the morning that I needed to make a few things clear between us. To avoid any future misunderstandings.”

She frowned. “What kind of misunderstanding?”

He stepped back to the stove, flipped the pieces of meat, and lowered the flame. With deft movements, he slid the eggs and ham onto two plates and set them on the table.

Then he sat down on the chair beside her. “Unless you have any major objections,” he said with a smile, “I’m going to tell my father that I intend to marry you. And starting today, I will begin courting you in the fashion you deserve.”

Her pulse beat a frantic rhythm. She wanted to pinch herself to see if this was a continuation of her crazy dreams last night. “This is silly, Connor. You can’t marry me.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” Her mind went blank. “Because your family doesn’t approve.”

“Only my father objects, a fact that will resolve itself during our courtship.” He took a large forkful of eggs and chewed, watching her, his hazel eyes twinkling.

“What if he doesn’t change his opinion?”

“He’ll have no choice.” Connor took a swig of coffee. “Because once he gets to know you, he’ll understand why I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

She covered her mouth with her hand, instant tears brimming on her lower lashes. “You can’t be serious.”

His grin faded, and a blaze of intensity flared in his eyes. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I love you, Jo, and I know I made a huge mess of things, but I will make it up to you one way or another.” He paused, his gaze searching hers. “Unless, of course, I’m wrong and you don’t care for me that way.” A furrow appeared between his brows. “Am I wrong?” he asked in a husky voice.

More tears trailed down her cheeks as she shook her head. “You’re not wrong.”

“Thank heavens.” He got up and pulled her to her feet. Gazing down at her, he brushed at the moisture on her cheeks, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

He kissed her with a tenderness that erased every objection, every thought.

Jo’s breathing was ragged as she pulled away. “Are you sure about this? Because I won’t have my heart broken if you decide you were wrong, or your family won’t accept us.”

He brushed a finger over her cheek. “If I ever have to choose between my family and you, I will choose you, Jo. For better or worse, my heart is yours for the taking. If you’ll have it, that is.”

“Oh, Connor.” More tears bloomed. “I love you, too.”

She kissed him again, and when they drew apart at last, he grinned at her.

“Promise me one thing,” he said.

“Anything.”

“You’ll keep that big, ugly hat you always used to wear. I have fond memories of that thing.”

She giggled and swatted his arm. “I was going to give it to Seth, but I couldn’t part with it. Because it reminded me of my time with you.”

He grabbed her to him for another resounding kiss. Then he broke it off with a sigh. “As much as I’d love to do this all day, I have to get home. Dr. Clayborne needs a ride to the train station this morning.” He gestured to the stove. “There’s a platter of ham and scrambled eggs warming in the oven for the rest of the brood.”

He kissed her again and, by unspoken agreement, they walked to the back door. It wouldn’t look seemly to have a man leaving at this hour out the front.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said, suddenly shy.

He shrugged into his coat and laughed. “It’s only the beginning. I plan to turn your head with all my many talents.”

She smiled up into his eyes. “You already have, Mr. O’Leary. You already have.”