Longing for Home Read Online Free Page B

“Finbarr. Your brothers are going to take you home now.”
    The lad emerged a brief moment later. He nodded to Mr. Archer, gave Katie a curious look, and moved to join the others by the wagon.
    “I’ll see you in the morning,” Mr. Archer said.
    The O’Connors piled into their wagon. Ian set the team in motion.
    “We’re down the road just a piece,” Tavish called out to her. “If you need anything, you come find us, Sweet Katie.”
    She was in no mood for Tavish O’Connor’s teasing. No matter that he was fine looking and smiled more handsomely than any man had a right to. She’d had quite enough of him. “I told you not to call me that,” she called back after him.
    Tavish only grinned. Impossible man!
    He could simply take his cheekiness and his offer of hospitality and hie himself on home. She meant to stay and keep her job.
    She set her things on the ground, then planted her fists firmly on her hips. “Finbarr O’Connor? You cannot tell me you didn’t realize that name belonged to an Irish lad.” She glared him down in much the way the first housekeeper she’d worked under used to do to her. She’d found it most effective. A person couldn’t help feeling at least a bit abashed having their judgment shot through so neatly by someone eyeing them in just that way.
    Mr. Archer didn’t so much as flinch. “I don’t have general objections to hiring Irish. I don’t have objections to Irish at all.”
    “But that’s the reason you’re intending to turn me off.” He’d give over even if she had to talk him around for hours. “Sounds like an objection to me.”
    “My personal feelings have nothing to do with not keeping you here.” His tone had grown more tense. Even his posture spoke of irritation. Clearly Mr. Archer was not accustomed to being argued with.
    “Then what is your reason, sir?” She held herself still, unwilling to appear intimidated. Her livelihood stood on the line and with it every dream she’d clung to since childhood. “I crossed this country on the promise of a job, and now you’re meaning to take it away from me. I believe you owe me an explanation at the very least, sir.”
    He raised a single questioning eyebrow at that. For a fraction of a moment they stood, each watching the other, neither giving an inch. She hoped her gaze looked half as sure and challenging as his did.
    “An explanation, Miss Macauley?”
    She winced at his horrid pronunciation of her name. ’Twas no wonder he hadn’t realized her name was Irish. His version of it might have hailed from anywhere at all.
    “Very well,” he said. “Come.” Without waiting to see if she followed, he strode to the front of his house.
    Katie followed close on his heels, moving swiftly to keep up with his much longer strides. Joseph Archer was a tall man, one who moved with more confidence than any man ought. He stopped but a few paces from the road that ran past his property. Katie could see he was annoyed. How could he possibly think she’d simply hang her head and walk away after his dismissal?
    She ignored his angry posture, refusing to be cowed by it. He would be made to give over, one way or another.
    “Tell me what you see,” he said.
    “I see a great many things, sir. You’ll have to give me some indication of just what it is you’re wanting me to see.”
    He motioned to the very road they stood beside.
    “A road, sir?”
    “More specifically,” he said, “a fork in the road. Half the town lives down that branch.” He pointed to their right, where the road continued far off into the distance. “Everyone in that direction despises the Irish.” He shifted and pointed to the left, the other side of the road running up to and past a bridge. “Over the river is the other half of the town. Everyone who lives down that road is Irish.” His piercing gaze settled once more on her. “Now, where does that put me?”
    She glanced down each road in turn and back to where the two met directly in front of