Jack’s jaw moved from side to side, but whatever angry thoughts flitted through his head, he kept them to himself and turned to Elijah. “I don’t want to go with him.”
“He doesn’t have anywhere for you to stay at the moment.” Elijah looked to O’Byrne. “Right?”
“I’m looking for a job in town but haven’t been able to find one. Might not be able to until logging season’s over and the harbor opens. I can work the docks then.”
“Sure you will,” Jack mocked, but an angry look from his pa cut off any further words.
Elijah shifted, the week-old snow crunching beneath his boots. “Ah, we’re having some folks over to our place for Thanksgiving dinner. You should come and spend some time with your children.” He nearly had to drag the words from his mouth, but really, it was the least he could offer considering half the town was coming. It was also the right thing to do considering this man was blood kin to the O’Byrne children.
Jack sent him a look that could shoot daggers, but O’Byrne’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Just might take you up on that. Now I’d like a word with my son, if you don’t mind.”
“No!” Toby clung so tightly to Elijah’s leg the child might leave nail marks despite the trousers and gloves.
O’Byrne didn’t even glance at Toby. “Not the little one…”
Little one? Did O’Byrne even know Toby’s name? And he seemed to have completely forgotten about Alice, who was off playing with Jane and Claire.
“Jack, here.” The man motioned for Jack to follow, then walked far enough away that whispering wouldn’t be overheard.
Jack looked to Elijah, eyes questioning.
Elijah gave a swift nod. “Go on with your pa. See what he has to say.”
But as Jack trudged through the snow to his father, a copper mass formed in Elijah’s stomach, hard and heavy. Maybe Victoria had been right, maybe they’d all be better off if Norman Virgil O’Byrne had stayed lost forever.
Chapter Eleven
“So what took you away from Eagle Harbor?”
The bite of turkey on Jessalyn’s tongue turned dry as sawdust. She looked at Dr. Harrington, seated across from her and Thomas, his eyebrows raised as he waited for an answer. When her husband’s gaze flicked to hers, she nearly sank beneath the table—not that there’d be room for her given the horde of people’s legs crowded beneath it.
The Cummingses’ rambling log cabin was packed for Thanksgiving dinner. The children had their own table by the sofa, and the adults were all scrunched around the kitchen table plus an extra table that had been moved inside.
If she had been seated at the far side of the table where Victoria and Mabel Cummings were, she’d not have even heard the question Dr. Harrington asked Thomas. But somehow she’d ended up right next to her husband, and across from Lindy and Dr. Harrington.
Would Thomas blame his leaving on her so that he didn’t need to admit guilt in front of half the town? Tell everyone about the argument they’d had after their savings were lost?
“We lost some money in a poor investment shortly before I left.” Thomas’s voice was calm and even, as though he discussed the weather and not the reason they’d been separated. “So I decided to head west, see if I could stake a claim on my own rather than working for a big outfit like Central. I grew up in the mines of Cornwall, so making a claim didn’t seem all that unreasonable. Jess here didn’t want to leave until things were more settled though, so I went ahead without her.”
For five years. She dropped her fork, causing it to clink against her plate with enough force to draw attention from Aileen, who was seated next to her.
Oh, why had she come tonight? It hardly mattered that she’d shared Thanksgiving with the Cummingses every year since Thomas had left. She should have sent her regrets the second she learned Thomas would be here.
But there he sat, in the middle of the table, surrounded by the Cummingses, Oaktons, Harringtons, and O’Byrnes as though he belonged with them.
Not the actions of a man who was planning to leave town tomorrow or even next week.
Each day he stayed, each day he settled a bit more into Eagle Harbor life, he came closer and closer to making good on his promise not to leave again.
She fiddled with her fork. Maybe she owed him that visit to the bakery after all.
“I didn’t realize you were a miner.” Dr. Harrington’s brow drew down as though trying to solve a puzzle. “Somehow I thought you were a hotelier. I must have heard wrong.”
Jessalyn let out a little breath. At least he wasn’t asking why Thomas had stayed away so long.
“No, you heard right.” Thomas paused for a moment to take a drink. “I headed to California first, but the gold strike there was already playing out, so I ended up in Deadwood a year orso after the mining there started. Figured since I’d been mining copper at Central, I’d do a good job of sniffing out a new vein somewhere else. I took turns mining for the Homestake and searching for my own claim. The claim didn’t happen, but the Deadwood fire did.”
“Deadwood fire?” This from the scruffy round man who was seated near the end of the table. Elijah had introduced him as the O’Byrne children’s father when she’d arrived that evening, but something about the man’s shifty eyes caused her to scoot a little closer to Thomas.
