A Baby Between Them Page 21

  “That’s up to you, of course,” Nora said diffidently, “but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  With a skeptical nod, Mollie excused herself and then bustled off to make certain her dress for tomorrow was immaculately clean and perfectly pressed.

  Nora turned and stared at the door Cam had disappeared through earlier. Could he change, as well? Or at least his understanding of who he was?

  Please, God, he’s helped me in so many ways. Let me be the one to help him now.

  * * *

  The next morning Nora and Bridget waited with a very nervous Mollie in Maeve’s parlor. It had been decided that Maeve, Flynn and Gavin would greet Mrs. Fitzwilliam and the two younger McCorkle brothers when they arrived. Then Flynn would take charge of Sean and Emmett, enticing them outdoors with the promise of fishing in the pond, while Gavin and Maeve accompanied Mrs. Fitzwilliam here to view a “little surprise.”

  The carriage had arrived a few minutes ago, so the moment of truth was upon them.

  “I don’t know if I can go through with this,” Mollie said for what must be the twentieth time.

  And just as she had the other nineteen times, Nora reassured her. “Of course you can. Just remain calm, trust in the Lord to guide you and let your grandmother see your heart.” She patted Grace’s back, glad the waiting would be over soon.

  “You’ve both changed a great deal since you last saw each other,” Bridget added. “She’ll probably be every bit as nervous as you when she sees you.”

  Mollie looked skeptical, then her expression turned to panic as the door swung open.

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam was the first to enter the room and her smile turned to shock as she recognized the girl standing before her. “Mary?” She took hold of Gavin’s arm, as if she needed the added support. “Praise God, is that really you?”

  “Yes, Grandmother, it’s me.”

  “But how did you come to be here?” The matron allowed Gavin to lead her across the room. “I’ve been scouring all of Boston for you.”

  Mollie gave a tremulous smile. “It’s a long story.” She took her grandmother’s hand and gave her a peck on the cheek. “But first, I must know why you’ve been looking for me.”

  “Why?” Mrs. Fitzwilliam appeared affronted by the question. “Because you’re my granddaughter, of course. I was concerned for your well-being. And,” she cleared her throat in an almost-apologetic manner, “I was afraid that there were some misunderstandings between us that we needed to clear up.”

  “Misunderstandings?” Mollie’s lips pinched defensively, then she shot a look Nora’s way and took a deep breath. “Please sit down so we can talk more comfortably.”

  Mollie had elicited promises from the Murphy sisters and Gavin that they not leave her alone with her grandmother, so it had been decided that Nora, along with Grace, would remain for as long as Mollie needed the support. Mrs. Fitzwilliam took a seat in a throne-like wingback chair while Nora and Mollie sat on a love seat across from her. Maeve, Bridget and Gavin quietly excused themselves.

  Now that the initial surprise was over, Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s demeanor took on a hint of imperiousness. “So, tell me this long story that ends with you being here in Maeve’s parlor.”

  Mollie reached for Nora’s hand, and Nora gave it a comforting squeeze, adding a silent prayer that this would go well.

  Then, taking a deep breath, Mollie launched into her story, telling her grandmother all of the unpleasant, unsavory details without excuses, leaving out only the parts that involved Grace.

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam let her speak without interruption, but her expression grew sterner with each confession.

  When Mollie finished, she sat back and there was a long moment of complete silence.

  Nora could sense Mollie holding her breath, waiting for her grandmother’s response. She gave the girl’s hand another squeeze, not surprised to feel a slight trembling.

  Finally Mrs. Fitzwilliam straightened. “It seems you were lucky that your foolish acts were discovered by such charitable people as Nora and Sheriff Long.” The woman’s tone was stern, disapproving.

  Mollie nodded. “It is something I have thanked God for every day since the moment I was arrested.” She took a long, steadying breath and lifted her chin. “I know that I was willful and disobedient, Grandmother, and that I’ve done terrible things. I’m truly sorry for all of that, and am trying to make reparations. But I will understand if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  Still Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s frown did not soften.

  Nora tried to keep her expression even, but she felt a surge of disappointment. Please, God, don’t let her pride get in the way of a second chance for her and her granddaughter. Show me a way to help them reconcile.

  Grace started fussing and Nora suddenly smiled. “Mollie, I believe there is one more very important thing you have to say to your grandmother.” She cut her eyes toward Grace purposefully.

  Mollie’s gaze shot to Nora and she gave a slight shake of her head. But Nora wouldn’t allow her to drop her gaze and finally the girl nodded.

  Taking a deep breath Mollie turned to Mrs. Fitzwilliam. “Grandmother,” she said with obvious trepidation, “I would like you to meet your great-granddaughter, Grace Abigail Kerrigan Murphy.”

  Nora was both surprised and touched that Mollie had given the Murphy surname the place of honor in Grace’s name.

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam, for once, seemed struck speechless.

  Then she turned to Nora. “Is this true?”

  Nora nodded. “Mollie was aboard the Annie McGee and had the baby there. Grace is her daughter all right.” That admission was still difficult for her to make.

  The woman’s expression had softened at last, glowing with a dawning sense of wonder. She held out her arms. “May I hold her?”

  “Of course.” Nora stood and placed the baby in her arms.

  “What a sweet little bairn you are.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s smile and tone were doting. There was no doubt Grace, at least, had won a place in her heart.

  Then Mollie stood and took Grace from her, handing the baby back to Nora. “We still need to settle matters between us,” Mollie said to her grandmother. “And until we do, I’d prefer we not expose Grace to our bickering.”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam nodded. “I see you have a mother’s love for her child.” She folded her hands in her lap. “If I seemed harsh to you it is because I felt you were not being totally honest with me. Now that I understand what you were holding back, and why, I want to apologize.”

  There was a great deal more discussion between the two women—explanations, admissions and tears as well as assertions of changed outlooks, forbearance and deeper tolerance. But in the end, grandmother and granddaughter hugged with genuine affection and promises to start fresh.

  “Now, my dear,” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said happily. “You must pack up your and Grace’s things so that you may return with me to Boston tomorrow.”

  The words hit Nora like a punch in the stomach and her hands tightened reflexively around Grace.

  But Mollie was already shaking her head. “I can’t do that. I belong here.”

  “Nonsense!” Mrs. Fitzwilliam sat up ramrod straight, some of her imperiousness returning. “You belong with your family.”

  “Grandmother, I still owe money to a lot of people here, debts I’m working to pay off.” Mollie cast a shy glance Nora’s way. “And I have friends here.” She raised her head determinedly. “I’m sorry if that makes you unhappy, but this is where my life is now.”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam lifted her chin. “I can take care of those debts for you. As for your friends—” she smiled magnanimously “—you can come back to visit in Faith Glen as often as you like. Just as Emmett and Sean come to visit Gavin.”

  “Those are my debts, not yours,” Mollie insisted. “And I promised Sheriff Long and Nora that if they gave me the chance to make things right, I would work until I paid off every last one of them. It wouldn’t be right for me
to just let you snap your fingers and make them go away.”

  Nora wanted to cheer. Mollie was turning into a fine young woman, one with backbone and character.

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam eyed the stubborn tilt of Mollie’s chin. “You can’t be so selfish as to think only of yourself. What about Grace?”

  Some of Mollie’s confidence seemed to crumble and she glanced quickly at Grace. “What do you mean?”

  “If you stay here what will your daughter’s future be like? A poor washerwoman’s daughter with no prospects? On the other hand, think of the advantages I can provide for her. She can have the best care, pretty clothes and a proper education. She can mingle with the cream of society.”

  Mollie shook her head. “I’m sorry, but while being able to provide fine things would be wonderful, I don’t think it is the most important thing in a child’s upbringing.” Then she squeezed Nora’s hand. “Besides, it’s not for me to say whether Grace stays or goes. She belongs with Nora.”

  “What foolishness is this?” Mrs. Fitzwilliam turned to Nora, her smile taking an almost cajoling aspect. “Nora, you know I’ve grown quite fond of you and your sisters. And of course it was generous beyond measure for you to take both Grace and Mary in and care for them as you have.” She spread her hands. “But you must agree that a child’s place is with her mother.”

  Nora started to say something, she wasn’t quite sure what, when she felt Mollie’s hand press firmly on hers.

  “Grandmother,” Mollie said with great deliberation, “this is between Nora and me and we will do whatever is best for Grace. It’s not something I will allow you to interfere in.”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam sat back, obviously disconcerted by her granddaughter’s forceful words.

  Then Mollie softened. “Please, let’s not allow this difference to put a wedge between us again. Can’t we still be friends at least, even if I stay in Faith Glen?” Her hands trembled slightly. “Just like you and Gavin.”

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam rose from her chair and marched toward her granddaughter. Mollie stood, as well, and the two women faced each other, neither saying a word. Then the older woman reached over and gave Mollie a hug. “We can be more than friends, my dear. We are family.”

  Once her surprise receded, Mollie returned the hug with a fierce abandon. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

  Nora felt tears well in her eyes. She was so happy for the two of them that she felt ready to burst with it.

  Thank You, Father Almighty, for letting me witness this beautiful reconciliation.

  Mrs. Fitzwilliam stepped back and briskly brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. “I suppose I will need to follow Dr. Gallagher’s example,” she said severely, “and build a residence here in Faith Glen. What a great bother that will be.”

  Nora hid a smile. The woman was trying to sound disgruntled but it was obvious she was quite taken with the idea.

  “Do you mean it?” Mollie asked.

  The woman huffed. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. It’s the sensible thing to do. After all, there’s nothing to keep me in Boston save the theater, and I can travel back when the fancy takes me. Sean and Emmett will, of course, be happy to be closer to their brother, and moving here is apparently the only way I’ll be able to spend much time with my granddaughter and great-granddaughter.”

  She lifted her chin and turned toward the door. “Now, I must go at once and speak to Mr. Black and Dr. Gallagher to learn the best way to go about procuring land and constructing a home.”

  Once the reinvigorated woman had left the room, Nora turned to Mollie. “What you said about Grace—”

  Mollie stopped her with an upraised palm. “I meant what I said. Both Grace and I owe our lives to you. That’s a debt we can’t easily repay.” She smiled. “Now, shall we go see how your sisters’ husbands are reacting to my grandmother’s barrage of questions?”

  Mollie took Grace from her as she made to rise, and Nora didn’t try to take her back once she was standing. Instead she led the way from the room.

  I’m not losing Grace, she told herself. Mollie can continue to live with me and together we can raise Grace.

  She would just have to do her best to ignore the little niggling doubts that were creeping into her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nora leaned on her spade, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She glanced at her two sisters, working beside her in the cottage garden, Colleen’s Garden, and smiled. Maeve had been living in Faith Glen for two weeks now and while the three sisters didn’t get together every day, they made time to see each other two to three times a week.

  Today they had decided to do some work in the garden.

  The sound of children’s laughter caught her attention and she glanced toward the nearby lawn where Caleb and Olivia were playing. Mollie was watching Grace this morning and Gavin was watching Mollie.

  As for Cam, that distance she’d first noticed after he’d told her his terrible secret remained firmly in place. And the realization that she had no idea how to break through it was killing her.

  “Nora.”

  At Bridget’s hail, Nora brought her focus back to the present. “Yes?”

  “You looked like you were miles away.” Bridget’s voice had a teasing edge to it. “I was asking where we should plant this last rosebush.”

  “It’s your garden,” Maeve added, “so we need you to select the spot.”

  Her garden. That sounded good. She pointed to an area between the bench and the tree and walked toward it. “How about over there?”

  Both sisters nodded approval and they strolled forward, tools in hand.

  “It’s really quite beautiful and peaceful out here,” Bridget mused.

  Nora agreed. The garden was now almost fully restored to its former glory. The weeds were gone, the beds were neatly planted and bordered, and the fall flowers were beginning to bloom. There was even a new stone birdbath in the center, a gift from Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  As she speared the ground with her spade, Nora’s thoughts turned back to Cam. To be honest, he was never far from her thoughts these days. She missed the easy camaraderie they’d shared, the way she’d been able to seek his counsel when she needed it, even his high-handed way of making decisions when he wanted to help her out in some way. If only—

  Her spade struck something hard, sending a jarring wrench up her arm.

  “Sounds like you hit another rock,” Maeve said. “I hope it’s not a big one this time.”

  Nora tapped it again. “I don’t think it’s a rock.” The three sisters stared at each other for a minute, then eagerly went to work on the hole. Finally they unearthed a metal box about the size of a loaf of bread.

  “Pull it out,” Maeve urged.

  Bridget peered into the hole. “Whatever can it be? Do you think Laird put it there?”

  Remembering Agnes’s story about the supposed treasure Laird O’Malley had buried out here, Nora didn’t waste time on words. She got down on her knees and tugged the box out of the hole, her curiosity growing by the minute.

  The sisters moved to the nearby bench and Nora placed the dirt-covered box on its seat. “There’s no lock,” she said after a quick check.

  “Should we open it?” Maeve asked.

  Bridget obviously had no reservations. “Of course we should open it, goose.”

  Maeve nudged Bridget away from the box. “You do it, Nora. You’re the oldest and you found it.”

  With a nod, Nora reached down and tugged on the lid. It resisted at first, and then, with a low groaning of rusty hinges, it flipped open.

  Inside was a bundle of letters, tied with a yellow ribbon, and addressed to Laird O’Malley. “That’s Mother’s handwriting,” Nora whispered.

  “Laird kept her letters.” Romantically minded Bridget sighed. “But why would he bury them out here where he couldn’t read them?”

  “Perhaps he did it when he knew he was dying,” Maeve offered. “So no one else would have them.”

 
“Then perhaps we shouldn’t read them.” Nora closed the box. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what her mother had said to this man who had loved her so deeply.

  Bridget placed a hand on the lid. “But if he truly didn’t want anyone to find these letters, wouldn’t he have burned them? Perhaps he left them here, hoping his Colleen would come, or her descendents, and would see how much he still cared at the end.”

  She lifted the lid and handed them each a letter. “We have to read them, or his efforts would have been for nothing.”

  Nora slowly opened the one Bridget had handed her. It was short but eloquent, full of hope and promise. She glanced at the date penned in her mother’s hand and breathed a sigh of relief. “This one was written before she married Da.”

  “Mine, as well,” Maeve replied.

  “This one, too,” Bridget added.

  Both of her sisters sounded as relieved as she felt. Nora thumbed through the remaining half-dozen letters. “All of them are.” Then she paused over the last one. “Listen to this. It’s dated just before Mother married Da.” She began reading aloud to her sisters.

  My dear sweet Laird,

  I wanted to tell you this in person but your mother tells me you will be gone for some time. I have decided to marry Jack. I know that is not the answer you wanted, but I must follow my heart. He is a good man who loves me deeply and I know that we will be happy together.

  While I will always have a special place in my heart for you, as we have discussed time and again, I cannot marry a man who does not share my love for Jesus. I wish you well, my darling, and pray you will find much happiness. I hope in time you will find your way to accepting the abundant joy of what our Heavenly Father offers so that I will see you again someday in heaven.

  With much affection,

  Colleen

  Nora put the letter down and looked at her sisters, seeing the same tears glistening in their eyes that she felt in hers.