“That seems a good solution.”
“I hope they agree.” She emptied her lungs. “Joseph sent a telegram, but he hasn’t received an answer yet.”
Patrick put his free arm around her shoulders and tucked her in, a kind and reassuring embrace. She needed that more than she’d realized.
“I’ll work as the Archers’ housekeeper for as long as I need to, but I’m holding out hope for my inn.”
“If you’re accepting votes, Eliza, mine’d be cast for you staying as nearby as you can manage for as long as possible.”
They reached the Archers’ house. While Eliza lit a lantern, Patrick carefully laid Lydia in her bed, tucking her in. He turned to Eliza, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.
“I have something for you,” he said. “It’s nothing fine or fancy, but I hope it’ll be of use to you.” He pulled from his pocket what looked like two very stiff child’s socks. “They ought to be about the right size. I remembered how big her feet were in my hand.”
“For Lydia?”
“The soles are six layers of canvas sewn together. They’re not as good as a real pair of shoes would be, but they’ll make it far harder to get splinters in her feet.”
“Oh, Patrick.” She took the precious little hand-sewn shoes from his hand, amazed that he’d made something like this.
“They’ll not do once winter arrives, but they should get you by until then. And it’ll save the little lass’s feet from a repeat of tonight’s business.”
“Oh, Patrick,” she said again.
“I made ’em while I was in the mountains sobering up. I thought of the two of you a lot while I was there, wishing I hadn’t caused you pain.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to think this is a bribe or anything. It’s not. I was just worried about her feet and wanted her to be able to run around and not get hurt.”
She held the little canvas shoes to her heart, so moved by the offering. “These and her doll. Your kindness to her . . .”
“I mean them to be kindnesses to you, too,” he said.
Throwing caution to the wind, she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Patrick O’Connor.”
He held her for a long, drawn-out moment. And though she still had questions and worries, she found peace in his embrace to match what she’d felt weeks ago in his parents’ loft, and before that, when they’d looked after Lydia together.
She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe in him again. She wanted to feel this warmth and safety once more.
She wanted him to stay.
But reality intervened as it often did. He offered his farewells long before she was ready. After he left, she sat in the quiet of her room, longing for him to return. Her heart was running far, far ahead of her wary mind.
