Page 65 of Ordered Home for the Holidays
“Is your brother the one who also filled your shed with cords of wood?”
“Yes. And he and Seamus both patched the roof and fixed the steps going down to the root cellar.”
Cass cleared his throat. “And that’s sufficient? There’s no other work that needs to be done?”
She gave him a suspicious look. “I thought you were boarding with me because you had a disagreement with your father.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you asking about the upkeep of your lodgings?”
“I owe you that much at least. For leaving without a goodbye. For my long absence and the lack of correspondence.”
She harrumphed and glared at her boots. “I don’t need your pity, Cassius Trenton.”
“It’s not pity, Wildflower,” he said as he caught her sleeve just past the steps. She came to a halt and whirled to face him when they rounded the corner of the house.
“If it’s not pity, it’s something very close to it.” She closed her eyes and clenched her fists in the folds of her apron. “I don’t know if I should be angry or sad.”
“I always loved your anger and despised your tears,” he told her as he cupped her cheek.
“Don’t, Cass. Please don’t. I can’t let you do this to me again.”
Her plea was nearly a whisper, tremulous and full of swallowed tears.
“I never meant to hurt you, Wildflower. Just tell me how to atone for my sins.”
She blinked away the tears and tilted her chin away from his grasp. “There are no sins to atone for. What happened between us was so long ago, I barely remember it. Loving you made me leave behind my childhood, and when you left that journey was complete. I think that’s all our journey was meant to be.”
“Going out west made me grow up too. I realized what I’d left behind and it made me appreciate you even more. I was half hoping you’d still be here waiting when I returned.”
“You left me no choice but to move on without you. To make a new life for myself that wasn’t filled with memories of you around every corner.”
“You certainly didn’t waste any time healing your broken heart, did you, Wildflower? James can’t be older than seven - and I’ve been gone just over seven years.”
“Patrick O’Shaugnessy had always loved me and I needed someone who could do that.”
Cass studied her averted face. “You’d tell me if Patrick O’Shaugnessy wasn’t your son’s father, wouldn’t you?”
Her expression was shuttered when she turned to face him. “Patrick O’Shaugnessy was Jamie’s father in every way that meant something.”
Cass dropped his outstretched hand and laughed bitterly. “That’s not an answer and I wonder how many times you’ll make me apologize before you tell me the whole truth.”
“That is the whole truth. Stop badgering me about things we cannot change.”
He followed her the rest of the way in silence. Jamie looked nothing like Cass, and Patrick O’Shaugnessy had been a stalwart red-haired man, with hair darker than Deirdre’s. He needed to accept her declaration.
When they reached the kettle, he lifted it into his arms. “Where do you want this?”
“Set it in the kitchen by the stove. I rinsed the stoneware crocks this morning and they’re in a row on the floor beside it.”
Cass obediently carried it inside and set it on the floor. “Do you need my help with this too?” He gestured toward the crocks.
“No, if you can look in on Mary Kate and James and make sure they’re asleep and under the covers, I’d appreciate it.”
***
Cass checked in on Mary Kate first. Only the tiny moon of her face showed above the mound of blankets, and one fist was curled around the carving he’d made her the night they met. That glimpse of serenity made him stagger backward. If he’d had the courage to defy his father, the little girl lying in this bed would be his daughter.
