He blinked several times and then took a rapid step back as if he hadn’t expected to be the center of attention. “Pardon me. I thought the pub was open to the public, but I can see I’m interrupting a gathering.”
Something about the man set Bellamy suddenly on edge. He placed the leather matchmaker book onto the table at his spot, then faced the newcomer. “Can we help you?”
The man hesitated, glancing around the pub as though looking for someone. As his gaze alighted on Seamus, who was now sitting at the bar counter beside Moya, he seemed to breathe out his relief. “I’m looking for Seamus and Moya O’Reilly.”
Both children turned wide eyes upon the man.
Since Mr. O’Reilly had immigrated well ahead of his wife and two children, it had been a year or more since they’dlast seen each other. They all would have changed by now, perhaps so much that he wouldn’t recognize them anymore. As young as the two were, they probably only had vague recollections of their father.
Jenny, who had just stepped back into the pub from the kitchen, set a tray down on the counter, clattering the dishes. Her face had turned ashen, and her hands trembled as she reached for Gavin, who was entering behind her. Gavin slipped his arm around her and drew her close, both of their expressions filling with apprehension.
They’d grown too attached to the children. It was one of the risks of placing the orphans in homes. Riley and his committee had brought that up as a drawback, but they’d pushed forward with the new program regardless. The children needed the love and attention of families, even if the arrangement didn’t end up being permanent.
“I’m Seamus.” The lad hopped down from his stool at the bar counter, his eyes never leaving the man’s face. “Are you my da? You don’t look like him.”
The man’s face was filled with sadness. “I’m sorry, Seamus. I’m not your da.”
Seamus halted, and his expression turned wary. “If you’re not our da, then who are you?”
“I’m Patrick Leary. I was your da’s friend, and we worked together at the stone quarry in Grafton.”
Was?Worked?Bellamy guessed what had happened before the man could explain more. Mr. O’Reilly had died.
Patrick Leary removed his hat to reveal thinning hair. “He asked me to come and check on you and your mam if anything happened to him.”
Seamus didn’t say more. Jenny let go of Gavin and crossedto the boy. She stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
At her touch, he backed into her, needing her presence and her strength.
“I’m real sorry to tell you that your da passed away earlier in the summer from an accident at the quarry.”
Seamus only nodded, as though he’d already expected the bad news. Jenny wrapped both arms over his shoulders, holding him tighter.
“Soon as the letter arrived from your mam that you were in St. Louis, I planned to come down and look out for you.” Mr. Leary’s eyes filled with tears. “But my wife took sick with cholera, and then two of my younguns followed her to the grave.”
Seamus clearly didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Jenny responded. “We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Leary. This has been a very difficult time for so many.”
He nodded and wiped his eyes. “I’ll take Seamus and Moya with me back to my home in Grafton. My two older daughters can look after them. It’s what their da would’ve wanted.”
The room was entirely silent, and all eyes were fixed upon Mr. Leary. All except Moya. She released a sudden and piercing cry. “No-o-o!”
Gavin was at the little girl’s side in the next instant, lifting her into his arms. She went to him willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his chest.
Mr. Leary hesitated, looking as though he wanted to run away rather than deal with a crying little girl. “I’m glad to see they’re doing well here.”
“We found them living on the street after their mam passed.” Bellamy broke into the conversation. “We brought them here so they could have a place to live until we found their da.”
“Thanks be.” Mr. Leary’s voice was soft and kind. Since he had a steady job and a home and two daughters, no doubt Seamus and Moya would be well looked after. “I’m in your debt, and I know their da is looking down from heaven and is grateful too.”
“Aye.” If Mr. O’Reilly had given custody of his children to Mr. Leary, then the two would need to go with him. But what if the fellow could be persuaded into allowing the children to decide where they wanted to live?
Mr. Leary nodded to a wagon out on the street in front of the pub. “I guess I’ll be loading them up and heading out.”
“No-o!” Moya cried again, clinging to Gavin. “I wanna stay with Jenny and Gavin. They’re my new mam and da.”
“Jenny and Gavin”—Bellamy nodded to his sister and her husband—“they’ve grown fond of the two children, so they have.”
Jenny was blinking back tears. The children hadn’t called them Mam and Da before, and Bellamy guessed that the occasion was monumental for Jenny.
