“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t realize you’d seen me over here.”
“I saw you.”
“Then why didn’t you say something? Offer a greeting?”
“Why didn’tyou?”
That was fair enough, she supposed. “Are you going to come listen to the musicians?”
He shook his head. “I need to finish stuffing this mattress and tick. Today’s arrivals came without complaints or concerns, so I’ve a rare bit of time to myself. It’s hard to say when that will happen again.”
“You didn’t have patients last night, either,” she said, “but you still didn’t come over to the inn and spend time with us.”
“There’s always work to do. I was seeing to it.”
They’d reached the back door. She studied him a moment. “If I didn’t know better, Burke, I would think you didn’t want to spend time with me.”
He opened the door and motioned her through. “Ask anyone hereabout. Keeping to myself is an old established pattern of mine.”
“I have asked people, and they’ve said that hasn’t been the case with you in a while.”
He set his bucket on the worktop. “Well, I’m re-adopting it.”
On that declaration, he left.
He hadn’t spoken with any unkindness, and yet she felt the sting. She realized she didn’t know him well, but she felt she understood him enough to recognize that it was a strange declaration for him to make. She had heard from the O’Connors that when Burke had first arrived, he’d been a bit quieter, a bit more withdrawn, and a bit less social, but he’d opened up more over the last year. He still was not the storyteller that Seamus was, or the eager dancer that Ivy had shown herself to be. But he enjoyed the people of Hope Springs, and he interacted with them regularly.
This change was decidedly odd. And it was made even more so by the fact that he had, until the last two days, been increasingly friendly with her. They’d walked out to Finbarr O’Connor’s house, talking about their lives and experiences. He’d been kind and friendly while they danced at thecéilí. And now, suddenly, he was firmly embracing his solitude. Was this, truly, the result of something she had said or done?
She dumped the buckets of water into the barrel in the kitchen, then filled the water pitcher. She carried it back out into the public room, setting it amongst the musicians. They thanked her with nods of acknowledgment.
Sophie walked past the table where the travelers were sitting and asked if there was anything else they needed. They insisted there was not, so she sat herself on the patchwork quilt with the little ones. Current Baltimore fashions included too large a bustle—made large by a crinolette worn beneath the skirt—for a woman to even imagine sitting on the floor. But she’d left off the crinolette the last few days, wearing only the smaller and softer bustle supports beneath her dress. None of the women of Hope Springs wore bustled dresses. Joining them intheirfashions had given her more physical freedom.
Eoin had grown less distrustful of her over the days she’d been coming by, and he crawled onto her lap. She held him and bounced him about as the musicians continued a jaunty tune. Lydia spun in a circle, singing along, though she clearly didn’t know all the words. It was a lovely sight and wonderful feeling. The musical evenings she’d attended in Baltimore might’ve been more sophisticated, but they didn’t match this one for sheer joy.
The only thing marring it was the question that hung over her mind regarding Burke. Sophie was accustomed to rejection, but she didn’t enjoy it. The experience was made ever more poignant by the fact that, in every other respect, Hope Springs had been a reprieve from the weight and worries of Baltimore.
Eliza returned to the public room. She spotted Sophie sitting on the floor with her children and smiled broadly as she crossed to them.
“Well, wouldn’t Baltimore society be surprised to see you sitting on the floor?”
“Honestly,” she said, “they likely wouldn’t be terribly surprised. I’ve something of a reputation for being odd.”
“Well, Hope Springs has something of a reputation for enjoying people who are a bit odd. I’d say you came to the right place.”
Sophie felt the truth of that.
Eoin reached out for his mother, and she scooped him up. Lydia was perfectly content to continue dancing. Sophie got to her feet as well. She brushed the dust off her dress.
To Eliza, she said, “If there isn’t anything else I can do for you, I think I’m going to go visit Dr. Jones.”
Eliza looked intrigued. “Are you? He seemed a bit unsocial last evening. And the evening before that.”
“And the evening before that,” Sophie added dryly.
“Could be he’s a bear with a sore paw at the moment.” Eliza spoke in a tone of warning.
The Sophie who made her home in Baltimore would have taken that warning and kept a distance. The Sophie she had discovered in Hope Springs meant to take the risk.
