“Aye,” Sheena sobbed. “Help me, Mrs. Cornwall, please help me! Save my baby.”
“I’ll do what I can. Try to rest now. Pray for the welfare of your unborn child.”
While his mother worked, Jack traded the blood-soaked tea towel for a fresh one and examined the gash on Sheena’s forehead. Her skin had been slashed, but a few strong stitches would probably hold it together until it had time to heal. As Jack dabbed the wound with water, Seth Hunter came barreling down the slope toward the creek. Rosie, skirts flying, was right behind him. She cried out in dismay as she absorbed the scene on the creek bank.
“Seth,” she shouted, “run back to the house for my medicine bag, honey.”
“Medicine bag,” her panting husband repeated. Then he turned right around and started up the hill again.
“I’ll go after Jimmy,” Jack told Caitrin, touching her hand long enough to draw her attention. She nodded as she and Rosie took over the work on Sheena’s forehead.
Jack ran across the bridge and covered the short distance to the O’Toole homestead. The children were playing in the yard, and the older ones directed Jack to where Jimmy was working in the field. Realizing something must have happened, they grabbed up the toddlers and started for the bridge.
“Jimmy!” Jack called, hailing the silhouetted figure whose mop of bright red hair easily identified him. “Come quick. It’s Sheena!”
Jimmy dropped his plow and ran. “Where’s my girl? What’s happened to her?”
“On the bank. It’s the baby.”
“No!”
Paling, Jimmy took off like a shot. Winded from his run, Jack leaned against the O’Tooles’ barn for a moment to catch his breath. At that moment, Caitrin came flying into the yard.
“Jack? Where are you?”
“Here, Cait!” He stepped out from the barn, caught her in his arms, and held her tightly. “I’m right here.”
W
HAT’S happening with Sheena?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Caitrin whispered. “Sure, your mother’s the only one with experience in these matters. I’ve come to fetch Sheena’s sewing basket so I can stitch the wound.” She clung to him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
“Oh, Jack, how could this terrible thing have happened? Whatever shall we do?”
He swallowed, aware suddenly that this interlude with Caitrin might be the last. The trouble between his mother and Sheena O’Toole could seal the Cornwalls’ fate in the community. There would be no courtship of Caitrin.
“We’d better pray,” he said. “Pray for Sheena. Pray my mother can help her hang on to that baby.” He took both her hands in his. “Father, please fix this mess. Look after Sheena, and show Mama how to take care of that baby. Amen.”
“Amen,” Caitrin murmured. “Oh, Jack, I’d no idea Sheena was expecting a baby. Which of them started the trouble? Sure, ’tis all a blur to me now.”
“They just went after each other.”
“Aye, and they raced outside before I knew it. Then you and I tried to separate them. I took hold of your mother. You went for Sheena, and Mrs. Cornwall threw the poker—oh, Jack!” She buried her head in the hollow of his neck.
“I’ve got you, Caitrin. I’m here.” As he held her close, a warmth flooded through Jack’s chest and filled him with determination. At all cost, he would protect this woman from pain. He would shelter her, shield her, from the fire that raged around them.
“’Tis the end of it then,” Caitrin said softly. “You’ll have to leave Kansas, Jack. They gave you a month of grace, and ’tis been less than that. Your mother struck Sheena with the poker. If she loses the baby—”
“The trouble wasn’t my doing. It happened between the women.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll bear the brunt of it, so you will. Sure, Jimmy will latch onto any reason to drive out your family. He and Sheena have no use for Cornish.”
Jack tightened his arms around Caitrin, looking into her green eyes, praying he could memorize her in case he never saw her again.
“Jimmy doesn’t trust you,” she said, echoing his own fears. “If he learns you were near Sheena when she fell, he’ll cry for blood.”
“Don’t worry. I can stand up to Jimmy.”
“Sure, you can’t save yourself and the whole world, Jack.”
“No, but I’m putting my faith in someone who can. Caitrin, look at me.” He took her shoulders in his hands and forced her to meet his eyes. “Tell me you want me to stay here. Tell me I mean that much to you—and not just as a child of God. Say you want me for the man I am, and I’ll tear down anything that tries to come between us.”
“I do want you to know how much I care about you, and I know you love God … but I’m … I’m sometimes frightened of the fierce spirit I see inside you, Jack. How can I be sure this boldness is all for good? The things you did before were so … I know you had your reasons, but you were a ruthless man. You were ironfisted and unyielding. You were merciless.”
“Is that what you think of me
now
, Caitrin? Do you want me to carry my past around forever like an old sack of garbage?” Hands behind her neck, he stroked his thumbs across the velvet pink of her cheeks. “You once told me I was precious to God. Those were words I’d never heard. I believed you, Caitrin. I read in the Bible that if any man is in Christ, he’s a new creature. Old things pass away, and all things are made new. That’s why I came to Hope looking for a fresh start. I want to be different, inside and out. But I can’t do that if people tie the bad stuff in my past around my neck and make me haul it around.”
“Have you truly changed, Jack?” she asked softly. “Or will some spark set the flames to raging inside you again?”
Unable to resist, he kissed her lips, pressing her tightly to him. “I don’t think the flames inside me have ever stopped raging or ever will. I’ll always be ironfisted. I’ll always be stubborn and rough. But I’ve come to believe that God can take the man he created and use me for his good purposes. He used Peter, didn’t he? That fellow was no angel. He was always mouthing off and doing things before he thought them through. But Christ said he’d build his church on Peter.”
“Aye, but—”
“So why can’t he use me, Caitrin?” He crushed her against him. “Tell me the answer to that!”
“Christ
has
put his Spirit inside you, and he can use for his good the fire that burns in your heart. But, Jack, I don’t know that the people here in Hope have the wisdom and tolerance to see that far.”
“I don’t give a hot potato what the people here see in me,” he said. “Who I am and what I do is up to God. You’re the only person who matters to me, Caitrin.
You
.”
She clutched his shirtsleeves, knotting the fabric in her fingers. “Oh, Jack Cornwall, whatever is to become of us? More than ever now I see the matching zeal in our hearts. ’Tis true what I said so long ago—we
are
that pair of candles burning brightly. But I asked you before, and I’ll ask it again: What future can a candle have on a windswept prairie? What do you want of me?”
“I want your fire. I want us to be a bonfire together. One big, blazing bonfire that God can use to turn raw ore into gold, a fire that everybody can see for miles around.”
“Jesus taught that we’re not to hide our light under a basket; we’re to shine for all to witness. But, Jack, I must think of Sheena and Jimmy. I love them! I want to honor and respect their wishes. They’re the only family I have. And how can I be sure something won’t go terribly awry? Sure, your mother has a sharp tongue, and Lucy bears such troubles, and—”
“And people don’t come in pretty little packages with bows on top, Caitrin. God loves all of us no matter what, and I reckon we should do our best to follow his example. But this is not about Mama and Lucy. This is about you and me, Caitrin. Say the word, and I’ll leave town. Right now. But if you ask me to stay, I will. I won’t budge an inch, no matter what anyone says or does.”
As he held her, he could see the crowd hurrying across the bridge, Sheena hoisted on a blanket among them. Some of her children were crying. Jimmy was barking orders left and right. The mongrel dog yapped like there was no tomorrow as Chipper ran along beside him. Over all the clamor, Sheena’s keening filled the air.
“They’re coming,” Caitrin whispered, turning to look.
Before she could push away, Jack bent and kissed her lips.
God, my heart cries out for her!
The prayer was torn from his very soul.
Please don’t take this woman from me. Make a place for us. Give
us hope, Father God. I beg you, give us hope.
“Stay,” Caitrin whispered against his cheek. “I want you to stay, Jack.”
“I will.” His soul soared.
“But I cannot be with you in secret. If we’re to be a bonfire, we can’t go on hiding in the shadows.”
“May I have your permission to come courting?”
She glanced up, surprise lighting her emerald eyes. “Aye,” she said, a laugh bubbling from her throat as he caught her up in his arms and swung her around. “You may court me, Mr. Cornwall. I’ll ask Rosie to chaperone. Now set me down before we turn the town on its head with our shenanigans!”
Before he could respond, she pulled out of his embrace and dashed for the O’Tooles’ soddy. He followed, lifting up a prayer for Sheena. But his footsteps pounded out the song in his heart.
Stay!
I want you to stay, Jack! Stay, stay, stay!
“He’ll have to go,” Jimmy muttered. “The whole lot of them Cornish devils will have to go.”
“
Whisht
, Jimmy,” Caitrin said as she stood beside her brother-in-law in the silent soddy. “There may have been trouble between them, but Mrs. Cornwall is helping Sheena now. Don’t spark up the strife again.”
She clamped her hands together under her chin as she watched Felicity working. The younger woman lay unmoving on the bed, her head wrapped in a white bandage where Caitrin had stitched the gash made by the poker. The scent of burning lamp oil suffused the room, and the golden light gave it a churchlike atmosphere.
Felicity regarded Jimmy solemnly. “Your wife has kept her baby,” she announced.
“Glory be to God,” Jimmy said, letting out a deep breath. In two strides, he was at Sheena’s side, kneeling by the bed and pressing his lips against her hand. Sheena stroked her husband’s damp red hair. “Are you all right, my love?”
“Aye,” she croaked. “The pains are going now. Oh, Jimmy …”
He muffled her sobs with tender kisses. “’Tis all right, my honey-sweet. Sure, ’tis going to be fine now.”
“I’m so … so sorry.”
“Malarkey. You’ve no need to say that.”
“But I … I …”
“If you’ll leave us be now,” Jimmy said, turning to the three women in the room. “My wife’s a
donsie
thing. She’ll be needin’ her rest, so she will.”
“Aye,” Caitrin said softly. “Sheena, I must go and tend the wee
brablins
. Will you be wanting anything more from me?”
“Nay.” Sheena sniffled.
Rosie picked up her medicine bag, wrapped her arms around it, and led the way out the door of the soddy. Felicity Cornwall followed, and Caitrin took up the rear. The O’Toole children stood barefoot on the hard-beaten earth yard and stared with great emerald eyes at the women.
“Your mama is fine now,” Felicity told them. “And so is the baby. God willing, your healthy brother or sister will be born in the autumn.”
Their faces broke into radiant grins as the woman turned and strode toward the bridge. Caitrin stared after her, wondering what thoughts had leapt into Felicity’s mind during those terrible minutes when uncertainty gripped everyone. Would she admit her guilt in the conflict? Would she beg forgiveness of Sheena? Could Jimmy ever make peace with the Cornwalls?
“Caitrin.” Rosie took her friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “We saw you with Jack. As we were bringing Sheena across the creek, we saw the two of you by the barn. He was kissing you. Jimmy saw it, and the things he said against Jack were vile. Oh, Caitrin.”
“Jack’s a good man, Rosie. He’s begging for a chance to show that he’s changed.”
“He won’t get it. Not with that kind of behavior.”
“He was comforting me.”
“They’ll drive him off, Caitie. I’m sure of it.”
“No,” Caitrin said, her voice low and determined. “Jack Cornwall is going to stay.”