Call Home the Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

first. She needed
    more information, which unfortunately only he could give.
     
     
But how could she confide in him? No, it was unthinkable. She did
    have some pride left.
     
     
A tap at the door heralded the arrival of their breakfast.
     
     
"Could you open the door, Muireann? I'm nearly finished here."
     
     
"Yes, of course," she answered, as the enticing aromas filtered in
    under the door.
     
     
She took the tray and laid it down on the small table in front of
    the fire. She moved the two chairs up closer to it.
     
     
As she laid out the dishes and then uncovered the serving bowls, she
    ventured hesitantly, "Lochlainn, about what I said before, about
    your being so grim and serious. I'm sorry. It was frivolous of me to
    tease you in that way. After all, I don't really know anything about
    you, now do I? I don't usually behave so inanely. I suppose I'm just
    trying to block out what's happened. But telling myself it was all a
    bad dream isn't going to make it go away, now is it?"
     
     
He glanced at her around the screen, and came out, fastening the
    front of his waistcoat. He was surprised at her practicality in the
    face of such a loss. "Well, it's understandable that you're upset."
     
     
"I know, but there are also arrangements to be made, and decisions."
     
     
"Decisions?" he echoed warily.
     
     
Muireann looked down for a moment as she poured the coffee. She took
    a deep breath before replying,  "Two weeks ago I married
    Augustine and thought my life was all laid out before me. Now just a
    fortnight later, I'm facing chaos. I honestly don't know what to
    do."
     
     
His eyes never left her face as he came to sit down across from her.
    "About what?"
     
     
"Well, my life now, for one thing. I'm young, inexperienced, far
    more ignorant than I should be, and I haven't even set eyes on
    Barnakilla. I know no one here in Ireland except you. One half of me
    thinks I should go back home to Mother and Father in Fintry. Back to
    the security I know I shall find there. But another part of me is
    too proud to go back. I would be cosseted there, wrapped up in
    cotton wool, and I would never, well..."
     
     
"Go on, never what?" he prompted.
     
     
"Get the chance to really live," she said in a rush.
     
     
Lochlainn eyed her carefully. At length he observed, "It is early
    yet, Muireann. You've only just been widowed. Do you have to make
    any decisions now?"
     
     
Her words sounded just too good to be true. He had to be cautious.
     
     
"I suppose there is that. I was thinking, though, that it's easier
    to travel back to Scotland from here than to go all the way to
    Barnakilla only to find out that I've made a mistake.
     
     
"But I need your help, Lochlainn. I need you to tell me what
    Barnakilla is like. And I need your help with the funeral
    arrangements as well. I know it will be in the papers over here, but
    if we can possibly keep this all quiet, so my parents don't find out
    until after the funeral, and I can write to them, I would be very
    grateful."
     
     
Lochlainn scowled. "Shouldn't you have your family, the people you
    love, around you at a time like this?"
     
     
"No!" she snapped, and then colored. She put her fork down and
    nervously folded and refolded her napkin.
     
     
He could see her agitation, and the tears which welled up in her
    eyes. He moved his chair closer to hers, and softly held one of the
    hands which rested in her lap.
     
     
"I'm trying to understand, but you need to trust me. Tell me what's
    going on inside that head of yours. Why don't you want your family
    here?"
     
     
"Because I couldn't bear their pity, their kindness. I don't deserve
    it, nor do I want it. I would be suffocated. I do love them, it's
    not that. It's just, well, I'm twenty-one now. I'm not a child
    anymore. True, I've never organized a funeral, but if you'll help
    me, then I think we can get through this."
     
     
"We?" he asked in surprise.
     
     
"Well, it affects you too, doesn't it? I