Chapter Nineteen
“Ithink you’d bestgive the orders, Da,” Patrick said. “I’m not certain everyone’ll take direction from me.”
Ian wouldn’t, at least. And Patrick had his doubts about his sister’s husband, Thomas. His other brothers-in-law were still virtual strangers to him. He also doubted that Finbarr and Aidan would pick a different approach from the rest of the family.
“’Tis your project, son. They’ll listen to you.”
“And if they don’t?” He’d managed to not saywhenthey don’t, but that would’ve been the more accurate question.
“I’ll knock a bit o’ sense into their thick skulls. I’ve done it before.” The years had aged Da, but he still held himself with the strength and confidence Patrick had depended on so much as a boy. “Life’s taken a lot from Finbarr; it’s well and past time it gave a little back.” That was the determined and optimistic Da he remembered.
“You’re talking as if life were fair. I’ve not found that to be the case.”
“Aye, sure seems the lot of us are in the field when luck comes walking down the road. But together, we can snag a bit for one or the other of us. Often takes a bit of work, a bit of sacrifice.”
Patrick watched the others chatting and gathering up their tools. “You’d work and sacrifice for Finbarr, to give him a spot of good fortune?”
“For any of m’children.”
Patrick forced down a lump in his throat. His voice emerged a little quiet, a little broken. “Would you do that for me?”
Da’s eyes were on the others, but there wasn’t a doubt all his focus was on Patrick. “Would you let me?”
“That’s a taller ask than you likely realize.”
Da rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels. “I left Ireland for the sake of my children. I toiled in New York for the good of my children. I came here and helped build this town from the ground up to give my children a future.” He turned and looked directly at Patrick. “And if I’d known the past ten years that you were in Canada, I’d’ve gone there and found you and done whatever you needed, Patrick, and I’d’ve begged you to come home if you’d been willing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, but you have to let me.”
What he needed was for his da to know what he’d been through, to see the person he was and the person he was trying to be, but that meant sharing truths he didn’t think he could; that meant betraying confidences he hadn’t any right to betray. And yet, the weight of it all was crushing him. He was going through his bottles of whiskey, his need for it growing the past days. He woke up every morning lately feeling the guilt that always accompanied the next-day headache. The thought of running out of his liquid escape had him starting to panic.
He needed help, but he couldn’t ask that of Da. The man loved his children too much for Patrick to even risk casting doubt and shadow over Grady’s memory.
“There’s one thing I’ll let you do,” Patrick said, affecting his most unconcerned tone and posture, one he knew Da didn’t believe for a moment. “I’ll let you round up those lazy bums over there and set them to work on this roof.”
Da let him hide behind the shield he’d put up. With no more than a simple nod, Da crossed to the others. Patrick truly breathed for the first time in minutes. He’d come to Hope Springs looking for exactly what Da was offering, but what if he couldn’t ever accept it? How long could he live his life so close to what he needed but unable to cross the chasm?
All these men, except Aidan, he imagined, had built soddies before. They didn’t need him to tell them what to do, which was likely for the best. The few times they sought out direction, the lot of them turned instinctively to Da, who tried, at first, to defer to Patrick, but in the end bowed to the unavoidable: Patrick hadn’t any real sway with this group.
In the end, though, he found he didn’t truly mind. Working alongside his brothers and brothers-in-law felt more natural than giving them orders.
By midday, they’d assembled a good amount of the roof. Patrick, Tavish, Thomas, Keefe—Ciara’s husband—and Ryan stood on ladders and, as the roof took shape and could hold weight, they stood on the roof itself. Da, Finbarr, Aidan, and Ian kept their feet on the ground, bringing supplies and steadying the ladders. Everyone seemed content with the arrangement . . . except Ian.
When he suggested, again, that he could be more useful off the ground, Da said, “Biddy’d kill the lot of us.”
“She worries more than she needs to,” Ian insisted. “I’ve not had a dizzy spell in months. And I’m not so stubborn or thickheaded that I’d insist on staying up there if I found it to be too much. But that colleen has it in her head that I oughtn’t ever even try.”
