Page 30 of Choices of the Heart

He didn’t see Sophie for days. She looked in at the inn regularly, but he kept to his side of the wall during those visits. He had people in town and out at the ranches he needed to look in on. He had some people stop by the infirmary in need of his help. And he kept working on the projects needed to put the place to rights. The distraction wasn’t quite enough. His mind was still heavy with her words.

The evening of the nextcéilíarrived. Burke spent a full hour debating with himself about attending. He was overwhelmed with questions, lost in his own confused thoughts. He was embarrassed, ashamed. He had, though he’d tried to convince himself otherwise, been neglectful of the good people of Hope Springs in his pursuit of the appearance of perfection. He worried so much about what Alexander would think that he hadn’t stopped to realize how the people of Hope Springs would feel if they knew. They deserved better than that.

Not attending thecéilí, though, wasn’t likely to go unnoticed. The townspeople would wonder why he wasn’t there. How could he explain himself? If he told them he was in the midst of a crisis of identity, he risked undermining their confidence in him. Neither was he willing to lie.

So he pulled himself together and made his way to the O’Connor farm for the weekly gathering.

The doubts that grew as he approached dissipated when he arrived. He’d been overwhelmed by the enormity of these gatherings when he’d first come to Hope Springs. He’d lived for years in Chicago, which was louder and noisier and busier than this valley ever would be. And he’d grown up in an orphanage, which was more chaotic than anyplace he was likely to ever live again.Looking back, he suspected his worry had stemmed more from the feelings of joy and connection and family that the town had exuded. That wasn’t something he was familiar with.

He was welcomed warmly as he arrived that night. The town was genuinely glad to see him. He had come a long way in three years. This town and its inhabitants had become more than just neighbors to him. They’d become close friends.

His steps took him to where Patrick stood, holding his daughter. “Good to have you here tonight, Burke. We’ve not seen much of you these last days.”

“Good to be here, especially since I hear Eliza brought mince pies. I couldn’t have asked for better neighbors than you.”

Patrick grinned. “On account of the pies or because we’re such grand people?”

With a look of overdone seriousness, Burke said, “The pies.”

Patrick laughed. Little Lydia joined in. This family really were the very best of neighbors. Burke was fortunate to have them.

Patrick spotted Eliza. “Lydia,mo stóirín, will you stay with the doctor while I dance with your ma?”

Lydia nodded and made the transfer without objection. That alone was a heartwarming reminder of all that had changed. When he’d first met the little girl, she’d been painfully unsure of him. He’d made enough progress that he had every faith she would feel confident coming to him with illnesses and injuries in the years to come. He’d made that progress with all the children in the area. Their parents, too.

He sat with the little girl on one of the chairs surrounding the dancing area. He suspected she would enjoy watching her parents as they danced. The seat he chose was directly beside the elder Mrs. Archer.

“Do you mean to dance tonight?” he asked her.

“I’ve only just caught my breath from last week,” she said with good humor. “The style of dancing here is not quite what I’m accustomed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, mind. I simply haven’t the vigor that the people of Hope Springs have.”

“They are lively, aren't they?”

“They?” she asked, looking at him. “Do you not consider yourself one of them?”

The observation caught him off guard. He always did refer to the people of this valley as “they” and not “we.” Did he still think of himself as an outsider?

“It seems my question has upset you,” Mrs. Archer said. “I hadn’t meant it in any hurtful way.”

Burke shook his head. “It’s not anything you said. I’ve been pondering a lot of things lately.”

“Thinking too much is a good way to get yourself in trouble.” Again, Mrs. Archer smiled lightly. He suspected that, if not for her almost aristocratic upbringing, she would have been quite funny. The people of fine society tended to aim for subdued more than entertaining.

His eyes wandered to where Sophie stood amongst a group of local women, smiling and laughing. She didn’t quite fit that high-society mold. She wasn’t loud or obnoxious, but she certainly was not withdrawn.

“Miss Kingston’s very lively.”

“Here,” Mrs. Archer added.

“What do you mean by that?”

“In Baltimore, she’s quiet and extremely proper,” Mrs. Archer said.

“I can’t even imagine that,” Burke said.

“She wasn’t always like that. During her first few years of accompanying her parents and sister to various soirées and socials and balls, she had more of the exuberance you’ve seen here. But such a thing is too often frowned on in those circles. She learned very quickly to hide that bit of herself. After her family moved to Boston, she came to live with me. I thought she might return to her former enthusiastic self, but she hasn’t. I understand why. One can only endure so much rejection before one’s goal becomes to avoid it at nearly all costs.”

And with that, Mrs. Archer added another thing to Burke’s list of truths to ponder.

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