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take her back.”
    “What?” Katie’s eyes pulled open wide. Even her mouth went slack.
    “I’m sorry.” He didn’t look particularly sorry. “But you cannot stay here.” He turned away.
    “He is serious?” Katie asked Tavish.
    “I’d imagine so.” While he knew Joseph wouldn’t like the idea of another Irish employee, he’d not have thought the man would turn her away out of hand. “We told you your arrival was likely to cause a stir. Looks like it’s starting here.”
    A look of alarm flitted through her eyes. This seemingly unflappable woman had been dealt a hard blow. She sat mute, staring at Joseph Archer’s retreating back.
    A woman alone with no employment and no family and no place to go would be well within her rights to panic. He’d been amused by her stubbornness, intrigued by the contradictions he saw in her. But watching her defensive wall crumble, even for the briefest moment, and seeing the frightened person she hid there, tugged at his heart almost alarmingly.
    “Do you want me to talk to him?” He couldn’t guarantee he’d succeed, but the woman ought to at least know she had an ally in this unfamiliar town.
    Katie shook her head, and the blanket of fierce determination she’d wrapped herself in throughout their journey made a tenacious reappearance. “I learned long ago how to fight my own battles, Tavish O’Connor. That man promised me a job, and I mean to see that he gives it to me.”

Chapter Three
     
    Katie climbed down from the wagon with absolutely no grace to speak of. Speed was more essential than elegance. She pushed her hatpin back through her bonnet, needing both her hands free.
    “Hand down my things, please.”
    Tavish eyed her with curiosity even as he complied with her request. “You mean to confront him, do you?”
    “I mean to keep my job,” she said crisply.
    She hadn’t the slightest idea how to accomplish that. This was hardly the fiercest storm she’d weathered. Knocking on door after door in Derry looking for a job at eight years of age came to mind. She’d not once been without work since that time. Today would not be the day she failed in that.
    She squared her shoulders, set her eyes firmly on Mr. Archer’s retreating back, and marched in his direction. She’d think of something, so help her.
    Mr. Archer had just reached the barn doors when she caught up with him. He glanced at her only briefly.
    “If you’ll be telling me where my room is, sir, I’ll put down my things and set straight to my work.” Her first approach would be to call his bluff. If he weren’t firmly set on sending her off, he just might back down.
    Mr. Archer stopped and turned to face her. His was a stern and unyielding expression. This was a man accustomed to getting his way. “I told you that you would have to go.”
    “No. What you told me was that I had a job keeping house for you here. What you told me was I’d get room and board and pay.” She emphasized each declaration with a pointing of her finger. “What you can tell me next is where to set my things as I’m a week behind on my duties.” She hoped her frustration made her seem more confident than she felt. In truth, her knees were knocking beneath her skirts.
    Mr. Archer only shook his head. “I am not hiring Irish.”
    He most certainly was, whether the man had admitted it to himself or not. She needed a job. “That’s your policy, is it? You’d have done well to have said something before you offered me the position, before I dragged myself across this continent on the strength of your word of honor.”
    “I didn’t realize you were Irish.”
    “Macauley is not exactly an Italian name.”
    “It sounds far more Irish when you say it than it did in my mind when I read it.”
    Ian stepped up near them, his posture reluctant but his expression thoroughly amused. “Can Finbarr come along home now?”
    Mr. Archer nodded. “He’s done for the day.” He called into the dim depths of the barn.