Because one more look at his wife standing by their bed, and he just might not make it out the door.
Chapter Twenty
“Ic-can’t even have them for Christmas.” A tear rolled off Victoria’s cheek and plunked onto the table. “Why couldn’t he have found a place to stay after Christmas?”
“I’m sorry,” were the only words Jessalyn could muster. They echoed quietly through the lighthouse kitchen, inane and trite as they were. But what did one tell a woman who’d adopted orphans into her heart, only to turn around and give them back to their birth father? And on Christmas Eve, no less?
“We’ll be over tomorrow for Christmas dinner.” Tressa set a platter of cookies on the table. “Your place will be full of children, I promise.”
Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes anew. “It’s j-just not the s-s-same as having the O’Byrnes there.”
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Jessalyn reached over and rested a hand atop Victoria’s limp one. When Tressa had invited them over to visit on Christmas Eve afternoon, none of them had anticipated Victoria and Elijah giving the O’Byrne children back to their father right beforehand. “I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose them.”
Victoria sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Why can’t Elijah and I be blessed with a b-baby of our own? Maybe then losing the O’Byrnes wouldn’t be so hard.”
Again, another question to which there was no good answer.
Tressa set a pitcher of milk on the table, then wrapped her arms around Victoria’s shoulders from behind. “I’m praying for you, dear.”
“Thank you. I need all the prayers I can get this Christmas.” Victoria wrung her hands. “How long do you think I should wait until I visit them? Elijah said to let the children spend Christmas undisturbed with their father. Do you think I could see them the d-day after?”
“I think the day after will be just fine,” Jessalyn spoke over the lump rising in her own throat. If Victoria was this heartbroken over losing children who had only been with her a few weeks, what must Thomas have felt like when he’d returned to town only to have her ask him to keep his distance?
But he’d never complained. Never accused her of being unfair or needlessly hurtful.
Then again, he hadn’t exactly kept his distance either.
The door to outside flung open, and a rush of cold swept the room. Elijah ducked inside, allowing enough space so little Jane Oakton could enter on his shoulders without bumping her head. He stilled as soon as he saw his wife, causing children to pile up behind him.
He swung Jane off his shoulders and headed straight toward Victoria, never mind the snow he tromped through the kitchen. “Aw, Vic, don’t cry again. I told you everything will be all right.”
“I know, but it just d-d-d-doesn’t seem all right at the moment.” A fresh mound of tears welled in her eyes, and she pushed her chair back from the table and went into Elijah’s arms.
The lump returned to Jessalyn’s throat, and she looked away. Thomas held her every morning when she woke up next to him, true, but how long since she’d gone willingly into his arms? How long since she’d approached him with a problem and trusted that, no matter what was happening around them, they could face things together and be stronger for it in the end?
“Ma, will you come outside and play with us?” Megan rushed up to her. “Pa has to go.”
“He does?” She glanced behind her to see Thomas standing in the entrance to the kitchen with Claire on his shoulders, the snow on his boots quickly melting into a puddle. “Where are you going?”
“Isaac’s in the yard with Mac. He wants to take another look around town before we go to the candlelight service. Says I might actually get tonight off if all stays quiet.” He gave her a lopsided grin, but when Claire wriggled on his shoulders, his grin turned into a grimace, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “You can’t move like that, princess. It hurts me.”
Jessalyn stood. “I wondered if something was wrong with your shoulder. When did you hurt yourself?”
“A while back.” Thomas used his left arm to swing Claire to the ground, a grimace still on his face. Then he stretched his arm out and rolled his shoulder, which only caused another wince to cross his features.
“You got into a fight while you were on patrols with Isaac, didn’t you?” A chill swept through her, and she tamped down the worry that climbed into her chest. “Thomas, I really think your job is too dangerous for a man with a family.”
“No, Ma, it’s Pa’s bad shoulder.” Olivia shrugged, then reached for a cookie on the table. “Sometimes it pains him.”
“Bad shoulder?” She looked between her daughter and her husband. “Since when do you have a bad shoulder?”
And why hadn’t he told her about it? Or more to the point, why had he told the girls but kept it from her?
“I injured it last spring.” He turned and started down the trio of steps that led to the outside door. “Anyway, Isaac and Mac are waiting, but the girls didn’t want to come in yet. I said maybe you could play with them.”
“But what about your shoulder?” She followed him to the top of the steps. “If you didn’t injure it working for Isaac, then when?—?”
“Later, angel.” He climbed back up the steps and pecked her on the lips, just a quick brush, but it was enough to set her cheeks burning.
