“I am excited. Forus.”
“Forme.” Torin’s tone was firm.
She lowered the sock and needle and thread and met Torin’s gaze, the bruises and cuts on his face a constant reminder of how close she’d come to losing him. “I meant what I said this morn. I’m going with you. You’re the only family I have left, and I want us to stay together.”
“Kiernan wants to be your family now too.”
“He can’t be!”
“Whyever not?”
She stood quickly, dumping her sewing supplies to the floor. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”
Torin was watching her through narrowed eyes behind his spectacles—a new pair that Kiernan had purchased. “You don’t have to explain.” Torin’s voice was clipped. “I already know you love him, too, but you’re scared to lose him.”
She released a scoffing laugh but then bit it back as the reality of Torin’s words hit her. Was that what it was? Was she resistant to loving Kiernan because she’d lost so many people she loved and now was afraid of losing him too?
“I admit I am scared. But can you blame me? I almost just lost you.”
“But you didn’t. Here I am, thanks to Kiernan.”
“Aye, it’s a good thing Kiernan was there. God must like him better than me.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing you could say.”
“’Tis not.”
“Oh aye, it’s a bunch of—dung.”
“Then why did God take Mam and Da and Cagney—everyone I loved?” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “And He would have taken you, if not for Kiernan.”
Torin still wore a scowl. “We human beings make our own mistakes and cause our own problems through our own hate and selfishness. We cannot be blaming the problems we create on God.”
“What mistake did Cagney make to die on the ship? It wasn’t his fault.”
“We all know the British could be doing more to provide relief and employment.” Torin’s voice was as bitter as always when he talked about the British who had discriminated against the Irish Catholics for years, preventing them from owning land or even going into trades. “If our princely overseers were showing more compassion, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so bad. Maybe we wouldn’t have had to leave. Then maybe Cagney wouldn’t have died.”
“Maybe...”
Torin sighed. “Listen, I take responsibility for my mistake in getting involved in a gang when I first came to St. Louis. I brought the problems on us. I only have myself to blame. Not God.”
As usual, Torin was correct. They existed in a sin-filled world with imperfect people who made poor choices, lived selfishly, and sometimes hurt others. So maybe she hadn’t been fair to accuse God of problems human beings had created.
“The way I see it,” Torin continued, “God could turn His nose up at us for all the times we think we know best and go our own way. But He doesn’t. Instead, He’s thereoffering to help clean up our problems and walk with us through them.”
She knew something about going her own way. She’d done her share of that.
With a groan, she buried her face in her hands. “I know you’re right. But why do I feel as if God is always so distant, that He’s punishing me by not answering my prayers?”
Torin sat forward and patted her shoulder. “Maybe you’re expecting God to answer your prayers the wayyouthink He should when He’s actually answering the wayHeknows is best.”
Was it possible she’d been viewing God wrong because of her own anger and grief? Not just with the cause of the problems but in His answers to them? What if she’d been the distant one, and He’d been there all along?
Her heart swelled with the longing to let Him walk with her through her problems instead of pushing Him away. Could she do it even now? As she tried to sort out what to do next?
Torin’s voice turned gravelly again. “I felt God near to me the past few days because of you and Kiernan. Thank you for being here.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. This dear brother who’d made mistakes and faced hardships was perhaps growing through them, would hopefully be stronger because of them.
