That irritation, above all, was indelible proof that she had to sever this fascination she had for Garret MacQuade and turn her attentions to things not wrapped up in a haze of impossible dreams.
With a sigh she retrieved the bucket and started back toward the wagon, with its inevitable realities of washing faces, buttoning pinafores, yoking oxen.
She had left johnnycakes baking on their board beside the fire, the scent of the cornbread and a little precious coffee wafting on the morning air. There was salt pork to be fried, prayers to be heard, and ahead, another long day of heat and dust and trying to keep Garret MacQuade out of her mind.
Yet as she walked toward the campsite she couldn't stop remembering the sweet reason in his voice as he'd approved of her taking the chalice; could not stop remembering the fever that had been in hands, burning with desire. And some part of her, some tiny part, wished he had not pulled away.
* * *
Renny rakedthe brush across Cooley's glistening coat, trying valiantly to resist burying his face in the horse's glossy neck and dissolving into a fit of most unmanly sobs. It wasn't fair, he thought, angrily, wasn't fair that just when he and Sister Ash, Liam and Meggie, and even that sniping Shevonne were starting to feel like—well, like almost a family—something had to barge in and ruin it.
The whole time he'd been at St. Michael's he'd been waiting to be ripped away from the only person who had ever believed he could be something—anything but a thief or a drunk or a liar like his da. He'd had nightmare after nightmare about being carried off in John Langan's jaunting car to some farm miles away from Sister Ash, where he was expected to work like a horse and be treated worse than the foxes that sucked up the eggs.
Twice those nightmares had come true, and he would never forget the clawing, sick feeling that had been in the pit of his stomach as he had watched Sister Ash bid him a tearful good-bye. He had wanted to cling to her skirts those times, as shamelessly as Shevonne and Liam. He had wanted to beg her not to let them take him away. And once he was at the farm he had nearly dared his new masters to thrash him, wanting them to get so mad they would send him packing back to the convent.
He had been glad when they hit him, glad when they hated him. Even the time Seamus MacFee had used a riding crop on his legs, beating him so hard that he could barely climb out of the cart that took him back to St. Michael's.
Because he had known he'd be back with her soon. That she'd smile at him, and tell him he was bright and funny, and she'd mess up his hair with that look in her eyes that made him know she cared about him. Really cared.
Yet even then he had known he had only bought a little bit of time. He had known his stay at the convent was temporary, that someday he would lose Sister Ashleen forever.
Renny scrubbed his rough sleeve across cheeks damp from what he fiercely told himself was sweat, remembering the elation that had swept through him the night she had crept up into the nursery where the children all slept. In that soft voice that always made his stomach feel like jelly she had told them her plan, that she was going to take them to America. That they would stay together always.
Renny would have trailed uncomplaining in her wake if she'd been leading them off of a cliff, so it had seemed impossibly wonderful when she had taken them on an adventure as exciting as any story she had ever told them.
He should have known better than to trust in anyone, in anything, Renny thought, plucking a burr from Cooley's withers. To think something that good could last forever.
"Hey, Ren." At the sound of Shevonne's voice Renny made his eyes go fierce. He glared at her as she sashayed up, all crisp starched pinafore and perfectly braided hair. "Sister Ash says to tell you breakfast's about ready."
"Not hungry."
Shevonne watched him, her eyes so bright that he wanted to slug her. "Well, you don't have to eat if you don't want to. But you got to come for prayers, and to talk and stuff, or she'll get all worried."
"No, she won't. She won't even care. So I won't either."
"She will too care, Renny O'Manion! She's been lookin' at you all sad ever since we left town." Shevonne waggled a finger at him. "I think you've been pure hateful. Yelling at people and punching 'em, and stomping around like a thunderstorm."
"Everyone's been snapping at me! Sister Ash, you, even Liam—"
"Liam didn't squawk at you until you boxed his ears last night! And you're bigger than him. It wasn't fair—"
Stung by guilt, but darned if he'd let Shevonne know it, Renny stomped over to begin combing out Cooley's tail. "I wouldn't have punched him if he'd 'a' shut up like I told him to."
Renny cast a fulminating glare at the place where Garret MacQuade had disappeared an hour before astride that paint gelding. "It's all that MacQuade man's fault. All of it. Meggie wouldn't even sit by me last night 'cause of him. And Sister Ashleen gettin' all blushed in the face and flustery, looking at him like... like he was peppermint drops in a jar, and she was real hungry. Made me sick at my stomach. And then Liam keeps on gushing over him in the wagon. 'Do you think Mr. MacQuade has killed outlaws with that gun?' " Renny mocked, inwardly wincing at the memory of the younger boy's ecstasies over everything from the way MacQuade sat his horse to the gun he'd had strapped on his hip. " 'Do you think he's fought wild Indians?' I wisht they woulda skewered MacQuade with a hundred million arrows."
"It's wicked to wish somebody dead. Sister Ash always says be careful what you wish for, or it might come true."
"Wish that one would come true, but it won't. Nothin' ever happens that I want. Only baby Liam and perfect Shevonne get wishes."
Shevonne got that cat-face look Renny hated, her lips all prissy, her nose crinkling as if the rest of the world was beneath her. "Is that what you were trying to do last night? Find a wishing star?"
"What ya mean by that?" Renny's fingers clenched in Cooley's tail, a sick suspicion stirring in his belly.
"Last night after you thought we were all asleep I saw you sneak out."
"I was going to check on the oxen. Thought I heard something."
"Yeah, and I'm Queen Victoria." Shevonne laughed.
