Page 10 of Choices of the Heart

On the blanket, poor Eoin watched his father and sister’s departure with utter dejection.

“Have they abandoned you, sweet boy?” Sophie picked him up, smiling and hoping he accepted the stranger who was suddenly holding him.

He watched her closely but didn’t object. With thick black hair and big blue eyes, he was a shockingly beautiful baby.

“Eoin’s taken a liking to you.” Eliza paused as she walked past. “He isn’t always trusting of people he doesn’t know.”

“I suspect he’s not entirely certain of me yet.” She bounced him a little. His expression didn’t change.

“Where’d Lydia get herself off to?”

Sophie felt certain that was the little girl’s name. “She’s with her papa.”

“Of course she is. Those two are regular peas in a pod.” Eliza’s gaze slid to her husband and daughter. “He sure loves that little girl.”

“And he sure looks like this little boy,” Sophie said.

Eliza nodded emphatically. “We ought to have simply named him Patrick for how much they look alike.”

Sophie continued to gently bounce her armful. “Were both your children born in this country?”

Eliza nodded.

“And did you come to Wyoming directly from England?” Sophie asked.

“No. I lived for a time in New York. I don’t know how that city compares to Baltimore.”

“They are likely not terribly different.” Sophie rocked Eoin. He’d stopped watching her with suspicion but was far from truly relaxed. “Baltimore is quite large. There are some who are well-to-do, many who are comfortable, and a great many who struggle. Some people are happy, some are miserable.”

“Which were you?” Eliza asked.

“Happy most of the time. My family wanted to see me turn heads in Baltimore society. Unfortunately, I did so for all the wrong reasons.”

With a barely concealed look of amusement, Eliza whispered, “Oh, dear.”

“Oh, yes. I was something of a disaster.”

Eliza took up a crate beside the front door and motioned for Sophie to accompany her as she returned to the kitchen. “I’ve only known you a couple of hours, but I can’t imagine you were such a failure as all that.”

“I could tell you stories, Eliza O’Connor.”

With a mischievous grin, she said, “I hope you will.”

From the public room they’d just left, a jaunty tune was struck up.

Sophie listened a moment. “They are very good.”

Eliza nodded. “And when one of our pipers joins, they are also very loud. We thought Mrs. Archer might not appreciate the droning of pipes while she’s recovering, so they are not participating tonight.”

“Can they truly be heard in the doctor’s infirmary?”

“They can be heard throughout the valley.”

Sophie wandered back into the public room, Eoin seemingly content in her arms. The musicians grinned at each other as they played. Laughter was ample. One among them would toss out a tune and the rest would jump in. Those who didn’t know how to play it would tap along to the beat or sing if they knew the words.

Little Lydia watched her papa with the sweetest smile. Eoin perked up anytime Patrick sang, obviously recognizing the sound of his father’s voice.

Listening to the musicians was a joy. How tempted she was to join them, if only to tap on a table in time to the music. She even knew a couple of the songs they chose and could have sung along. But she didn’t dare. She’d made a commitment when accepting Mrs. Archer’s offer of houseroom and support. Not being an embarrassment was an important part of that commitment.

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