Page 65 of Valley of Dreams

“Would it?”

Finbarr shrugged but didn’t answer. He scooped another lump of mud from the bucket and slapped it up against the gap his free hand had discovered. The lad was growing a bit more confident with this task.

“Do you still play the pennywhistle?” Patrick asked. “You were learning when we were in New York.”

“No, I haven’t played in a long time.”

Patrick sensed he shouldn’t press the issue. He, too, was a bit vulnerable when it came to his own personal music, so he changed the topic. “We brothers used to sing together. Do you lads do that much anymore?”

“No.” Finbarr knelt, running his fingers over the lower section of the wall. “We used to, but Tavish stopped singing after Bridget died, and no one wanted to leave him out or push him when he was hurting so much.”

Patrick refilled Finbarr’s bucket of mud. “Who’s Bridget?”

“Tavish was going to marry her, but there was a fever. Killed almost half the town.”

Oh, saints.

“And Bridget died?”

“Aye. Tavish was never the same after that. He’s better now, though. Cecily has been good for him.”

Life hadn’t been all flowers and sunshine for the O’Connors.

“So, no one sings anymore?” Why that possibility ached his heart so much, he couldn’t say.

“They do sometimes.”

“But you don’t join them,” Patrick guessed.

Finbarr didn’t answer. Instead, he entirely changed the subject. “What do you mean to do once this is complete?”

“Eliza Porter and Joseph Archer are scheming to open an inn out at the stage road. If it all falls into place, they’re wanting me to oversee the building of it.”

“An inn?” Finbarr sounded impressed. “That’d be a change. The stage passengers would appreciate that, I’d bet.”

“And the townsfolk might even indulge in a meal in the public room now and then to treat themselves.”

Finbarr allowed a scar-marred smile.

“Eliza grew up in an inn. Her family has had the running of it for generations. It’s in her blood.”

“Maybe that’s what she was whispering about with Dr. Jones.” Finbarr paused his work, a contemplative look on his face. “Biddy came over last night and was gabbing with Cecily. They mentioned a few times how cozy Eliza was with Doctor Jones earlier in the day.”

Eliza had been whispering with Dr. Jones? “Was there some particular reason Doc was hanging about?”

“From what I could gather, he was tending her burn—”

“Herwhat?”

“—and then they were sitting with their heads together real cozy like. According to Biddy and Cecily, there was a lot of smiling. Everyone took note of it.”

That was a lot to sort through. But he needed to put the most concerning things first. “She has a burn? How bad is it? Bad enough for a doctor, aye, but did he seem concerned?”

“I don’t know,” Finbarr said. “Biddy and Cecily didn’t sound worried.”

Patrick would see for himself the next time he was with her. But the rest of the puzzle might impact how soon that was. “She and the doctor were cozy, were they?”

“I don’t know; I wasn’t there. Couldn’t have seen it anyway.”

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