“Faith and begorra!” Rachel was brought abruptly back to the present. She found Patrick watching her and wearing a smile as bright as the sun itself.
“There’s to be a wee Blake come winter, or my name isn’t Patrick O’Donnell. Gavin must be burstin’ with pride.” She lowered her eyes, blushing profusely.
“He doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell him today. How did you know?”
““Tis written all over your face, lass.” Patrick’s long strides brought him across the room.
“Sure but ‘tis wonderful news.” She looked up.
“Thank you, Patrick. I’m glad you’re still my friend.” Her voice lowered.
“You know I never meant to hurt you.”
““Tis forgotten. Was my fault in any case. Only a blind man couldn’t’ve seen how you felt. Now, will you let a friend congratulate the new mother and wish her well?” Rachel nodded and was quickly enveloped in his embrace. It was a little like being hugged by a bear, but it was warm and unthreatening. They remained silent for a long time, Rachel feeling a new sense of peace, glad that her foolishness hadn’t cost her a dear friend. It was Patrick who finally broke the silence.
“You deserve all the happiness life can bring, lass. All the happiness and more. And you’ll have it now. I promise you that.”
“Thank you,” she whispered again as she stepped back. And then she realized that the door was open. She turned her head, her gaze clashing with Gavin’s. Dread turned her blood to ice in her veins as she stared into gray eyes filled with contempt.
“Gavin…” She reached for the dry sink to steady herself.
“I’m back early.” His voice was like granite.
“And glad I am,” Patrick proclaimed, moving away from Rachel.
“There’s a matter I must discuss with you. I’ve been waitin’ for your return.” Gavin continued to glare at his wife.
“So I see.” Rachel didn’t know that she’d ever felt such fear. She knew how Patrick’s hug must have looked to Gavin. It must have confirmed everything he’d believed would happen. She wanted to say something to reassure him but couldn’t do it in front of Patrick. And so she remained silent. There was a faint buzz in his ears, a dull ache in his chest. As he looked at Patrick, he vacillated between wanting to kill the Irishman and wanting to die himself. ““Tis the matter of the bull from Montana. I’ll not be goin’ up that way after all. I’m leavin’ for Ireland in the mornin’.”
“Ireland?”
““Tis a family matter. It may be two years or more ‘fore I return to Idaho. I know that I promised to take a look at O’Malley’s bull when I went up there this summer, but I’ll not be goin’ now.
“Tis sorry I am not to help a friend, but there’s no way out of it for me.” Gavin thought he probably should say something appropriate, like sorry to see you go or hope you have a safe journey, but at the moment, he just couldn’t do it.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make the trip up there myself.”
“Well…” Patrick shifted and cleared his throat. ““Tis growing late, and I’ve a long ride back to the hall. I’ll be sayin’ good-bye.” Rachel moved from her spot in the kitchen, coming to stand not far from Gavin’s side. Her voice was soft and quavery.
“We’ll miss you, Patrick.”
“Sure and I’m hopin’ ‘tis true, lass. Be happy … and take care of all the Blakes.” Gavin sensed that Patrick was saying more than just what those simple words indicated. He glanced from Patrick to Rachel and back again, unable to decipher the secret meaning. Patrick turned from Rachel and thrust out his hand.
“Gavin.” He stared at Patrick, the anger still rolling through him. Only after a lengthy deliberation did he extend his arm and clasp the proffered hand.
“Good-bye, Patrick.” The Irishman’s grip was firm. Again, Gavin sensed the man was trying to communicate something to him this time, and this time with his eyes. But Gavin wasn’t willing to try to understand. He pulled his hand free and stood waiting for the man to leave. Patrick placed his wide-brimmed hat over his hair. He glanced quickly toward Rachel.
“Don’t be a stranger at Killarney. Pearl still feels overwhelmed by the O’Donnell men and is eager for female company.” With that, he left, closing the door behind him. An oppressive silence permeated the house. Rachel felt as if it would smother her. She willed her legs to move, to carry her toward the nearest chair. With great effort, they obeyed. Gavin, however, didn’t budge—except for his dark, stormy eyes. They followed her—unrelenting, unyielding, unforgiving. Say something! her mind screamed.
“Suppose,” he said, as if in answer to her silent bequest, “you tell me what was going on here.”
“Going on?” Her words were nearly inaudible.
“Was it a lovers’ farewell?” Rachel gasped.
“You know that isn’t true.”
“Do I? What would you have me think, walking in and finding you in his arms? What would have happened if I hadn’t returned when I did?”
“Nothing.” She rose slowly, her voice growing stronger.
“I didn’t even know he was leaving for Ireland.” His fists clenched at his sides.
“You should have married him, Rachel. You wouldn’t have been forced to deceive me then.”
“I haven’t deceived you. I didn’t want to marry him. It was you I wanted.” Even as she protested, she knew he was beyond hearing.
“It’s worse than I expected,” he continued.
“You couldn’t even be faithful for a few months. What was Patrick doing here? Was he asking you to go with him? Was that what those secret glances were about?”
“Gavin, you must listen to me. Patrick came to see you, not me.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Anger, fear, frustration, and defeat mingled in a confused mass in her chest.
“Why don’t you go with him? It’s not too late. You could probably still catch him.” Then anger submerged all her other emotions. Without even realizing what she was doing, she slapped him. The sound echoed in her ears. Her palm stung. She was breathing hard, as if she’d been running for a great distance.
“Maybe I should leave. Maybe I should just go now and get it over with. You’re always going to be waiting for it to happen, aren’t you? If not with Patrick, with someone else. Maybe I should leave.” There wasn’t even the slightest change in the expression on his face.
“Maybe you should. You only promised to stay until spring.” He might as well have run a knife through her heart. The pain was the same. A hurt gasp escaped her lips as she whirled around and headed for the door.
“You can probably catch him,” Gavin repeated in that same toneless voice. She stopped dead still. Anger drained from her, leaving her tired and broken. She turned her head to look at him.
“All I’ve wanted was to make you happy, Gavin Blake. Tell me. Won’t you ever realize how much I love you?” As she turned away, she added, “I’m not the same sort of woman as your mother. I never was.” She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She was surprised to find that the sun still shone, that flowers still bloomed, that birds still sang in the treetops. How did spring dare to reign in bright glory when all her world was dark? She walked toward the barn. She supposed, if she hurried, there was still time to reach town before nightfall. In a few days she could be back in Boise. And then maybe she would return to Washington. She could work for the professor again. She could return to her studies. She stopped and looked back at the house. Once again, her hands touched her stomach where even now a new life grew. Washington wasn’t where she belonged. This was. Running away wasn’t the answer. Perhaps it was time for her to listen to Gavin’s heart instead of his words. How long was it after she’d gone before he heard what she’d said? Really heard. I’m not the same sort of woman as your mother. I never was. And then he began to see and hear it all. He began to understand what it was he had done.