Irish Meadows Page 23

  An hour later, when the doctor entered the stuffy waiting room, Gil rose from his cramped position on the uncomfortable wood chair, wincing against the pain in his stiffened leg muscles.

  Mrs. O’Leary and Brianna rose, as well.

  Gil prayed the news was good, though the bland expression on the man’s face didn’t give him high expectations.

  “Mrs. O’Leary?” The paunchy doctor, a different man than earlier that morning, peered into the room.

  Kathleen stepped forward. “Yes. How is my husband?”

  The man gave a wry smile. “He’s awake, and from the hard time he’s giving the nurses, I’d wager he’ll make a full recovery.”

  Both women burst into tears simultaneously. Gil had used up his handkerchiefs long ago but moved to put his arm around Mrs. O’Leary’s shoulders.

  “I must warn you,” the doctor went on, “the recovery process will be arduous. Mr. O’Leary must stay in the hospital for several weeks, and when he does come home, he’ll have to take it very easy for several months. Which means avoiding anything that will cause him stress, such as a job or difficult family situations.”

  Mrs. O’Leary straightened. “I understand. Getting my hard-headed husband to understand might be a different story.” She looked over at Brianna. “The whole family will have to pull together and make sure he does as he’s told.”

  “We’ll do whatever we have to, Mama.”

  She gave her daughter a quick nod and turned back to the doctor. “May I see my husband?”

  “Only for a few minutes. He’s still very weak. Remember to say nothing that might upset him.”

  She nodded. “I’ll hold my tongue . . . for today.”

  Brianna hugged her mother. “Give Daddy our love.”

  “I will.”

  The moment Kathleen disappeared down the hall, Brianna seemed to crumble, as if she’d been holding herself together for her mother’s sake. Tired of restraining himself, Gil moved quickly to fold her trembling frame into his arms. She leaned into him, her cheek resting against his chest. A sensation of rightness enveloped him. This was where Brianna belonged. In his arms, where he could provide strength when she needed him. At the same time, Gil fought to ignore the image of Aurora’s trusting face, which kept surfacing along with an unbearable load of guilt.

  He glanced down at Brianna, the dark smudges under her eyes giving him pause. The long hours of waiting had taken their toll on her, and though Gil longed to take her home, he knew she’d never allow it.

  With a sigh, she pulled back from his embrace. “What are we going to do about Irish Meadows? If Daddy can’t work for several months, we’ll lose the business for sure.”

  Gil set his jaw, a decision that had been swirling through his mind for several hours now taking concrete form. “I’ll come back and handle things until he’s ready to work again.”

  Bree’s startled eyes widened. “You’d do that? After all Daddy’s put you through?”

  “Like your mother said, the family has to pull together to get through this crisis. And I know the business almost as well as your father.”

  “What about your job at the bank?” She twisted a crumpled handkerchief in her hands.

  “I’ll have to quit, but to be honest, it will be a relief. I don’t think I’m cut out for the banking world.”

  A slow smile spread over Brianna’s face, lighting her eyes with more hope than he’d seen in a long time. “Thank you, Gil. That will be a huge relief for all of us.” She reached up to give him a fierce hug. “If anyone can save Irish Meadows, it’s you.”

  He tightened his arms around her, his chest swelling at her simple faith in him. A faith he’d taken for granted all these years but which buoyed his confidence like nothing else. The familiar feel of her unleashed a wave of longing through him. James’s brush with death had made one thing perfectly clear to Gil. Life was too short to waste. From now on, he intended to make every precious moment count.

  Brianna moved back until her face was mere inches from his. “I’ve missed you so much, Gil.” The naked yearning in her voice matched the need inside him, rekindling the intensity of his feelings for her.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  He longed to kiss her and knew she felt the same way, but propriety forced him to gently disengage. “As much as I hate it, I need to speak to Aurora first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He met her uncertain gaze. “I should never have agreed to this engagement, and I intend to right the wrong as soon as I can. Once I’m . . . unattached, and once your father is stronger, I will speak to him again about us.” He brushed a finger down her cheek. “Living a lie these past weeks has taught me a valuable lesson. From now on I intend to live in truth as much as possible.”

  She returned his smile with one of her own. Words of love hovered on his lips, but again he owed it to Aurora to break off their relationship before declaring his feelings for another woman.

  He’d have to be patient a little while longer.

  On Friday morning, Brianna set down her travel bag in Irish Meadows’ foyer and inhaled the unique scent of furniture polish mixed with the remnants of Daddy’s cigars—the smells of home. The knots in her stomach relaxed for the first time in weeks. A bone-deep certainty told her this was where she belonged.

  Aunt Fiona had taken her departure with stoic calm, yet Brianna sensed an underlying disappointment. She assured her aunt she would return in the fall for the start of her first semester at Barnard College, and prayed that by then her father would be much improved.

  Footsteps descended the main staircase. Colleen came into view, a surprised expression crossing her face at the sight of Brianna. Colleen rushed forward to embrace her, an action that astonished Brianna. She returned the hug, grateful to be back with her family and happy to see the changes in Colleen were apparently real. All traces of her sister’s former animosity had disappeared.

  Colleen looked pointedly at Brianna’s luggage. “You’re moving back?”

  “For now. Mama needs all the help she can get.”

  One perfectly arched brow raised over curious blue eyes. “And it has nothing to do with Gil coming back?”

  She lifted her chin. “I’d be coming home regardless. Though I can’t deny I’m happy he’s here.”

  “But he’s still engaged to Aurora, isn’t he?”

  Brianna removed her hat and gloves, careful to keep her expression neutral. “As far as I know, he is.”

  Colleen gave a heavy sigh. “We’re a fine pair, the two of us.”

  Loud footsteps clattered across the tiles. “Is that Miss Brianna I hear?” Mrs. Johnston appeared, a wide smile beaming across her usually stern features.

  “It is indeed, Mrs. Johnston.”

  “Ah, you’ve made my day.” She gave Brianna a quick hug. “We’ve missed you around here, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ve missed everyone, too. Could you have my bags brought up to my room, please? And some tea would be wonderful.”

  “Make that two, Mrs. Johnston.” Colleen linked her arm through Brianna’s. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  After listening to accounts of the family’s activities over the first cup of steaming tea, Brianna leaned back against the cushioned settee. She’d missed these simple pleasures, spending time with her family in this most comforting of rooms. Memories of how she’d left her home, sneaking out of the house at dawn that fateful day, crept over her, but she refused to give in to those darker emotions. Everything had changed since then, and she was determined to keep a positive attitude.

  Colleen poured herself another cup of tea with hands that shook enough to rattle the china. Brianna frowned. Was something other than their father’s illness bothering her sister? She had her answer when Colleen raised her head. The sadness shadowing her features took Brianna by surprise.

  “Can I tell you something in confidence, Bree?”

  “Of cou
rse you can.”

  Colleen moved closer to Brianna on the settee and set her cup on the low table in front of them. “I’ve had no one to talk to about this . . .” She bit her lip.

  Real concern shot through Brianna. “What is it? Something’s wrong, I can see it.”

  Colleen turned to her, tears standing out in her vivid eyes. “Since working at the orphanage together, Rylan and I have become close.” She took in a deep breath. “And . . . we kissed.” She paused. “I think I’m in love with him, Bree.”

  Shock pasted Brianna’s tongue to the roof of her mouth. Her sister in love with a priest? What could she say to that? “Oh, Colleen, I’m so sorry.” She reached over to squeeze Colleen’s hand. “How does Rylan feel?”

  Colleen dashed at the wet trails on her face. “He’s ridden with guilt, of course. He’s going back to Boston to sort through things with his superior.”

  “Does he have feelings for you, too?”

  Colleen nodded, her misery palpable. “I think so. But he’s made a commitment he doesn’t want to go back on.” More tears bloomed. “You’ve been through this type of pain with Gil. How did you get over your feelings?”

  Brianna’s heart bled for her sister as she recalled her own agony the day Gil left Irish Meadows. “I didn’t,” she said simply. “I don’t know if I ever will. But putting my energy into something else helped take my mind off the grief.”

  Colleen sniffed. “Will you pray for me, Bree? That I can overcome this.”

  Another shock rippled through Brianna. Whatever had happened between Rylan and her sister, he’d at least succeeded in bringing her back to God, a huge accomplishment in itself. “Of course, I’ll pray for you. As I have been for myself. That God will heal your pain.”

  “Thank you.” She gave Brianna a look of regret. “And Bree, I’m sorry for all the hurtful things I’ve done to you over the years. I realize now I acted out of jealousy.”

  “You were jealous of me?”

  Colleen nodded. “You were so smart and perfect. And you were Mama’s favorite. Not to mention the teacher’s pet.” She sighed.

  Brianna shook her head. “But I was jealous of you. You were so beautiful while I was the plain younger sister. And clearly you were Daddy’s favorite. I could never do anything right in his eyes.” She realized bitterness had crept into her voice. “Seems kind of silly now.”

  Colleen chuckled through her tears. “I can’t believe we were jealous of each other.” She sobered. “Do you know how often I wished people would see me for who I am inside, instead of just the pretty outer package? I guess that’s what first drew me to Rylan. He didn’t seem affected by my looks at all.”

  Her haunted expression returned. Brianna leaned over to embrace her. “Try not to worry. God’s plan will work out in His perfect time. He only has our best interest at heart, and much like Daddy, He’ll make sure it happens—whether we like it or not.”

  28

  GIL TRUDGED UP THE STEPS to Belvedere, dread dogging his every footfall. He’d just come from the bank, where he’d met with Mr. Hastings and resigned from his position. To say Arthur Hastings hadn’t taken the news well would be the understatement of the year.

  Now he had to confront Aurora and let her down gently. He felt like the worst sort of heel going back on his proposal, but to continue the lie would be worse.

  “Good day, Mr. Whelan.” The housekeeper welcomed him into the residence.

  Gil removed his cap. “Good day. Is Miss Aurora in?”

  “Yes, she is. Please wait in the parlor while I tell her you’re here.”

  Unable to sit, Gil strode to the windows overlooking the vast gardens below. With the bright sunshine beaming over the flowers, Gil found it hard to imagine ruining Aurora’s grand hopes for the future.

  “Gil. What a nice surprise.” Aurora entered the room like a fresh summer’s breeze, so pretty that Gil had to swallow the bile in his throat. How had he allowed this sweet girl to be made a pawn in James’s scheme?

  “Good afternoon, Aurora.” Gil bent to kiss her offered hand. “I’m sorry to arrive unannounced, but I need to talk to you.”

  A flicker of concern shadowed her bright eyes for a moment. “Of course. Please have a seat.” She motioned to the seating area in front of the large marble mantel.

  Gil sat on the edge of the settee near Aurora and clasped his hands over his knees.

  She frowned as she studied him. “What is it, Gil? I can tell something is weighing on your mind.”

  He nodded, his mouth tight. “I have something to tell you, and I hope you can forgive me when you hear the whole story.”

  Her anxious gaze darted to the fireplace and back. “Has this got to do with Mr. O’Leary’s illness?”

  “In a way, yes. Now that James can no longer manage the farm, I’m needed back at Irish Meadows. So this morning I tendered my resignation at the bank.”

  Her mouth fell open, dismay darting over her features. “Why is it up to you? You’re not even his son.”

  Gil chose to ignore her insensitivity, keeping in mind this was upsetting news for her. “No, but I was raised by the O’Learys, and I owe them everything. Not to mention the fact that I love working at Irish Meadows—far more than I do banking, I’m afraid.” He gave a sheepish shrug.

  She tipped her chin up. “I’m sure once Mr. O’Leary is back on his feet, Papa will give you your job back. This is only a temporary setback.”

  Irritation crept up the back of Gil’s neck. Once again Aurora hadn’t listened to what he was saying. Like the time he’d tried to explain his dream of owning his own farm and she’d brushed aside his words, insisting her father would allow Gil to use his stable to indulge his “little hobby.” Aurora made it clear she expected him to work his way up in the bank and eventually take over for her father.

  “Aurora, I won’t be going back to the bank.”

  Her chin quivered as she processed his meaning. “How can you work at Irish Meadows when you’ll be married to me? Shouldn’t your loyalty be to my family now?”

  Gil sighed. “I need you to listen to me.” He reached over to take one of her hands. “I’m sure you noticed our engagement came about rather suddenly.”

  She didn’t reply, just stared down at their hands as though willing him not to continue.

  “I’m afraid I got swept up in . . . everything . . . without considering the consequences.”

  Uncertain blue eyes met his. “What consequences?”

  He shifted his weight on the dainty perch. “The fact that you might get hurt. Believe me, I never intended for that to happen. You are an amazing woman, Aurora. Beautiful and smart—everything a man could want in a wife.” He paused. “But I’m afraid I can’t marry you. Although I care for you, I don’t love you the way you deserve to be loved by your husband.”

  Gil braced himself for her tears, but instead, red flags of anger stained her cheeks.

  She seared him with a heated glare. “This is really about Brianna, isn’t it? You want to be free because she’s broken off her engagement.”

  He jerked upright on the settee. “That’s not the reason.” Yet the spark of truth in her statement stirred his shame anew.

  “Don’t lie to me, Gil. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way she commands your full attention whenever she’s near. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Unable to hold her gaze, Gil lowered his head, misery seeping through him. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I love Brianna. But her father won’t allow us to marry.”

  “You courted me because Mr. O’Leary asked you to, didn’t you?” Outrage trembled in her voice. “Because of Papa’s position in the bank.”

  It sounded even worse coming from her. He wanted to lie, to soften the blow, but found he couldn’t. “Yes.” He finally looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Aurora. I’d hoped I could get over my feelings for Brianna and make you happy.”

  She shot to her feet, her features pinched, and for a moment he thought she would
strike him. Instead she moved to the parlor door. “I want you to leave. And don’t ever contact me again.”

  The urge to make amends burned in his chest as he followed her. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  Frosty blue eyes raked his face. “Good-bye, Gilbert.”

  Realizing that nothing he could say would help, he reluctantly retrieved his cap from the hall stand and left the house. Aurora needed time to process this unwelcome turn of events. Gil only hoped that when her hurt and anger faded, she could one day forgive him.

  Rylan stood at the window of Archbishop Bennett’s office on the second floor of St. Peter’s Seminary, waiting for his superior to arrive for their intended appointment. As he stared down at the busy streets of Boston below, he thought about Colleen and what she might be doing at the orphanage today. Absently, he rubbed his hand over the scratchy wool cassock in an attempt to ease the permanent ache in his chest.

  Only two days ago, Rylan had bid the members of the O’Leary family farewell. Everyone had gathered on the front porch to see him off. It amazed Rylan how these people, mere strangers two months ago, had come to mean the world to him in so short a time. Little Deirdre had sniffled and clung to her mother’s leg. Connor tried to keep a stoic face, but tears hovered on his lower lashes. Gil and Brianna, and even Adam, who’d been home more since his father’s illness, all bid him good-bye and good luck. Leaving Cousin Kathleen had been almost as hard as leaving his own mother. She’d clung to him and thanked him for all his help, reminding him he was always welcome back. All he could do was nod, so thick was the emotion coating his throat.

  And at that point, he’d turned to see Colleen waiting, gaze cast down at the wooden porch boards. His heart had given a painful lurch as she raised sorrowful eyes to his.

  “Good-bye, Colleen. I hope you’ll keep up your good work at the orphanage. The children need you.” Just as you need the children.

  “I will.”

  “And I hope you’ll write me from time to time and let me know how the wee ones are faring.” He tried to convey the true depth of his feelings with his eyes, since words were impossible.