Irish Meadows (26 page)

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 course 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.”

G
IL
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.

“Of course.”

How he'd longed to take her in his arms for a proper farewell and pour out his feelings for her—but that, too, was impossible. Instead, he'd leaned forward to kiss her soft cheek. “Take good care of yourself.”

“And you, Rylan.” Her lower lip quivered before she turned her head away.

With a deep intake of air, he stepped back and shoved his hat on his head. “Thank you again, everyone. I've enjoyed my time with you all.” He nodded to Kathleen. “Please keep me posted on James's condition when you can.”

Kathleen moved in for one last hug. “May God bless you, Rylan.”

“Thank you. I'll be praying for all of you, as well.”

The creak of the door jarred Rylan back to the present. He swiped at the moisture in his eyes before turning to greet Archbishop Bennett. The large, white-haired man moved into the space, robes swishing over the floor, offering his ring to be kissed. Rylan bent over his hand. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Good morning, Mr. Montgomery. Please have a seat.”

Rylan chose one of the hard wooden chairs across from the wide desk. The fact that the man didn't smile or offer any pleasantries dashed Rylan's hopes for a compassionate discussion quicker than the sun faded from the bleak interior.

“I'm disappointed to see you back here so soon, Mr. Montgomery. I hope you have a fitting explanation for leaving your placement.” The archbishop's stern gray eyes bored into him.

Rylan twisted the end of his rope belt. “I don't know if you'd call it fitting, sir. It was, however, necessary.” He fixed his gaze on the severe man, who said nothing. Rylan took a breath and prepared to confess. “It seems I have fallen in love with a young woman I met there.”

The man's face became harder than stone. “What were you doing spending time with an unmarried woman?”

Rylan bit back a sigh at the judgmental tone. “It was all above board, I can assure you. She was a volunteer at the orphanage where I was assigned. I provided spiritual guidance and supervised her work with the children. I never anticipated . . .” He trailed off and gave his superior time to digest the information.

“Did you sin with this woman?”

Heat flooded Rylan's neck and face. “I did not. Other than one kiss.”
One
beautiful, life-altering kiss.

The silence stretched as the man watched him. Rylan grew uncomfortable under his stare but held himself rigid on the seat, determined not to cower.

“What is your intention now?” Archbishop Bennett asked at last. “Do you wish to continue in the seminary?”

The image of Colleen's cherished face came to mind, but Rylan pushed all thoughts of her away. “I've made a commitment to the priesthood, which I don't take lightly,” he said. “Before I make any rash decisions, I need to seek God's guidance to discern His divine purpose for me.”

The archbishop inclined his head. “Very well. I believe a solitary retreat for the period of one month is in order. You will
have no contact with the outside world for the duration. At the end of that time, I will expect your final decision and a renewed commitment before we continue with your internship.”

One month
. Rylan managed to keep the dismay off his face. “Thank you, Your Grace, for your understanding and patience.” He rose and gave a slight bow to the man in the chair.

“Mr. Montgomery.”

Rylan paused at the door. “Yes, sir?”

“I'll be praying for you, too.”