Page 21 of Choices of the Heart

He nodded and sighed. “I don’t suspect they were overly concerned about such things.”

“Then they oughtn’t have been entrusted with the care of children. Concern for a child’s wellbeing should be a prerequisite.”

He didn’t often talk about that part of his life. But having someone agree so quickly with his assessment of the experience was proving a comfort.

“What about you? Is Sophie a family name?”

She nodded. “My grandmother’s. I think my family hoped by naming me after her I would be inspired to be very well behaved.”

“Did their theory prove a good one?”

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You saw my arrival with Ivy. What do you think?”

“I think you brought some joy to a child. That is a credit to you.”

She no longer fought the smile. “I like you, Burke Jones.”

The declaration proved more gratifying than he would have guessed, certainly more than he cared to admit. Patrick would have instantly seized on that if he were nearby.

Their steps had taken them to the edge of Finbarr’s land. It was marked by a large rock, one flat enough for sitting on and enjoying a rest from the day’s labors. Finbarr was there, doing precisely that.

The dog laying on the rock beside him lifted its head as Burke and Miss Kingston approached. The protective creature eyed them closely but didn’t move a single inch from Finbarr. The young man’s head turned in their direction, apparently having heard their approach.

“Good afternoon, Finbarr,” Burke greeted.

A moment passed. Finbarr sometimes needed time to piece together who he was hearing. “Dr. Jones.”

“And Miss Kingston is with me. She is here visiting the Archers.”

Finbarr took off his wide-brimmed hat, holding it against his chest. The scars marring his face and neck were less red and angry than they’d once been, but they were still impossible to miss. He dipped his head. “Miss Kingston.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Finbarr.”

“How do you know the Archers?” the young man asked.

“I’m a family friend from Baltimore.”

Burke studied Finbarr as they talked. He looked well enough. Physically, he seemed hale as ever. His eyesight, they’d known for years, would not return. And the thick scars on his neck added stiffness to each movement of his head. But his weight was good. His shoulders weren’t slumped. His hair was ginger, so his skin tended to pink up in the heat, but beneath that, his coloring was nothing concerning. He ran a hand over the fur of his four-legged friend with every indication of being fully at ease with his circumstances.

“Are the Archer children recovered from their chickenpox?” Finbarr asked.

“They are,” Burke said.

“And Katie’s feeling well? No problems with the baby?”

“None. I suspect she’ll reach her time in the next month or so.”

Finbarr nodded. “And Miss Emma’s wrist?”

For a person who never interacted with anyone, he knew precisely what was happening at the Archer home. Finbarr had once worked for Joseph as a farmhand. From what Burke had been told, he’d been a big brother and a dear friend to the Archer girls. It really wasn’t surprising he still took an interest in them.

“I have been invited to thecéilítomorrow,” Sophie said. “Ivy assures me it will be the highlight of my entire life.”

A little smile pulled at Finbarr’s scarred features. “She hasn’t changed.”

“Will we see you at thecéilí?” Burke asked.

With that, all hint of lightness disappeared. Finbarr set his hat on his head once more. He took up his cane, stood, and stepped away from the rock. Madra, loyal dog that she was, moved to sit on the ground beside him. “I have things to do.”

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