Название | A Baby Between Them |
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Автор произведения | Winnie Griggs |
Жанр | Исторические любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical |
Издательство | Исторические любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408994931 |
“That I’d think about it.”
“And have you?”
She cut him a guarded look. “I haven’t had much time. They only brought this up when they were preparing to leave earlier.”
“But you’re not overly pleased with the idea.” Didn’t her sisters know how their offer would strike their independent-minded sister?
She sighed. “I like having my own home.” She frowned, as if just thinking of something. “Of course, Bridget and Maeve do each own a third of the cottage, as well.”
The sisters had shown him the deed when they first arrived in town, so he was familiar with it. “That they do.”
“But then there’s Grace to consider.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him. “A few windy drafts won’t bother me, but if the repairs aren’t all done in time…” She glanced his way. “No offense meant, but there’s a lot of work to be done and you do have your sheriffing to do. I don’t expect you to take on the role of my full-time handyman.”
Cam could think of worse ways to spend his free time than in Nora’s company. “Not full-time, but I do have two deputies, now.” He let that sink in a moment since he’d hired Gavin McCorkle, a youth she’d met on her voyage over, at her insistence. “That gives me a lot more free time on my hands.”
She worried at her lip. “But if you are going to spend more time working on the cottage, I’d want to pay you.” She sat up straighter. “I suppose you could hold a portion out of my salary to cover it.”
He knew good and well she needed every bit of that money to support her household, especially now that Bridget’s wages wouldn’t be helping supplement it. But he also knew better than to argue the point. “I’m certain we can work something out along those lines.”
She fussed a moment with Grace’s blanket and he could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Do you think I’m being selfish by denying Grace the opportunity to grow up in a fine home like the ones Bridget and Maeve could offer her?”
Nora Murphy was lots of things—obstinate, bossy, opinionated—but she was also the least selfish person he knew. “I think, as long as her needs are met and she feels truly loved, it doesn’t much matter where she grows up.”
He was rewarded with one of her rare approving smiles.
Looking considerably lighter of spirit, she lifted her head and changed the subject. “Any luck yet finding out who that girl was who nearly ran Gavin over?”
Cam flicked the reins, frustrated that he hadn’t been able to resolve that particular matter to his satisfaction. The female thief had stolen his horse while he was helping with the repairs at the Murphy sisters’ cottage a few weeks ago and had almost gotten away with it. Gavin’s quick action had slowed her down and allowed Cam to recover his horse but she’d managed to elude capture. That didn’t sit well with him, not at all. It was his job to keep the peace in these parts and it was the one thing he was good at. Or at least he’d thought so until that wily slip of a girl had outfoxed him.
More worrisome than his injured pride, though, was the question of what she’d been doing near the cottage that day. The place was a half mile from town out near the shoreline and had nothing about it to tempt a thief.
Not only had he been there that day, but Will, Flynn and Maeve had been visiting, as well. Not to mention Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Gavin’s two brothers who’d all come in from Boston to see the cottage the Murphy sisters had crossed an ocean to claim.
Had the little thief followed one of the guests there hoping to find an easy mark? Or had she been there for some other reason?
He didn’t want to worry Nora with any of his as yet unfounded suspicions, though. “No, and no sign of where she’s holed up yet either.”
Nora’s free hand fluttered then dropped back to rest against Grace. “I know she’s a criminal, but I’m worried about her. She looked so young. The girl must be truly desperate to have turned to a life of crime.” Nora shivered. “I hate to think of what might have happened to me and my sisters if we hadn’t had this place to turn to.”
Intrigued by the hint at what her past might have been like, he tried to learn more. “Were things so bad for you back in Ireland?”
She shot him an abashed look, as if sorry she’d said as much as she had. “There were some who had it worse. At least, thanks to the unexpected inheritance of the cottage, we were able to come here and find a home waiting for us.”
She shifted Grace to her other shoulder. “Maybe Gavin’s thief has left Faith Glen by now.”
That was a very deliberate changing of the subject if he’d ever heard one. There was a lot she was leaving unsaid when it came to her former life. Was it so painful to talk about? Or did she just feel it was none of his business?
As for her question… “Maybe,” he temporized. Because he doubted it, now more than ever. Just yesterday Ellen Kenny had mentioned that something had gotten into her root cellar and made off with some dried apples. Cam was inclined to believe it was a “someone” not a “something.”
But again, there was no sense worrying Nora with that. He returned to the subject of her former life. “You never did say how you three came to possess the deed to Laird O’Malley’s place. Was he a relative of yours?”
His question seemed to make her uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat and fussed with the baby for a moment. “Actually, he was a suitor of our mother’s before she married our da. When she turned down his proposal, Mr. O’Malley left Ireland and came here. Apparently he never forgot her. He sent her the deed to the cottage and said it was for her and her heirs if she or they should ever need a place to call their own.”
Cam remembered the deed had been dated twenty-six years past. “Pined for her all that time, did he?” If the late Mrs. Murphy was anything like her three daughters he could see where such a thing would be possible.
Nora nodded. “So it seems. But we didn’t know anything about him or about the deed. We only found it by chance when we were packing up our things to leave.”
Interesting. “So you were planning to leave your home before you knew about this place?”
She cut him another of those I’ve-said-too-much looks. But this time she didn’t immediately change the subject. “The stone cottage where we’d lived all our lives did not actually belong to us, nor did the land. When our da passed, Mr. Bantry, the landlord, told us he’d decided to lease it to a relative of his instead. We had no choice but to leave.”
Cam’s brow lowered. “Are you telling me this Bantry fellow kicked you out of your home while you were still in mourning?”
“It was his right,” she said with a shrug.
But he could tell the memory still stung. His hands tightened on the reins as he thought of what fate could have befallen them if they hadn’t had Laird O’Malley’s cottage to fall back on. It was a good thing an ocean separated him from this blackguard Bantry, otherwise he’d be sorely tempted to teach the man a lesson or two about looking out for those in his care. “So this bully Bantry kicks you three out of your home, you find a twenty-six-year-old deed to a cottage an ocean away, and decided, just like that, to come to America all on your own.” He shook his head. “That took a lot of courage.”
Her lips pinched into a prim line. “It wasn’t as if we had many other choices.”
She could downplay it all she wanted, he still thought it a brave thing to do.
Then Nora’s expression softened into a smile. “Isn’t it a wondrous thing how, twenty-six years ago, the Almighty was already laying the groundwork so that me and my sisters would be taken care of in our time of need?”
Her