Indigo Christmas by Jeanne Dams Page B

limp. “Eileen, dear, please tell Mr. O’Rourke I need the carriage to take Mrs. Malloy home. And ask Mrs. O’Rourke to come here. I need to talk to her. And then, Eileen, go up to your room and take a nap. I will not need you anymore today.”
    â€œBut Mrs. O’Rourke—”
    â€œMrs. O’Rourke will not need you, either. Quickly, Eileen.”
    Molly exchanged smiles with Hilda and then whirled away home.

    It was the wailing of a baby that woke Hilda, in the late after-noon. The room was dim and the steady sound of rain pattering on the roof made Hilda want to stay asleep. She sat up, wondering for a moment why she was fully dressed and lying on top of her bed. But as the baby’s cries were succeeded by low murmurs and then by silence, she remembered. Norah and Fiona.
    She smiled as she remembered the baby’s tight grasp of her finger. Even if it was a common thing, it had felt very sweet. Babies were more lovable than Hilda had ever realized. And the feel of the warm, tiny bundle in her arms as she had picked up Fiona and handed her to Sean…perhaps one day…
    Sean. Hilda abandoned her daydreams. She had to talk to Sean seriously. Now that the baby had safely made her appearance in the world, and Norah was doing well, Hilda intended to get some sense out of the blissful father if she had to shake him. Nobody’s bliss would last long if Sean was returned to jail for stealing.
    Or even for murder. Hilda was convinced by the evidence of the firemen that Sean could have had nothing to do with the fire, and could therefore not be charged with arson or murder. But did the police knew what the firemen found? Would they believe them? There was a certain amount of rivalry between the two services, each thinking it deserved more public recognition, more civic resources, and better wages than the other. The firemen, after all, were offering what amounted to their opinions about how the fire started and where. What if the police rejected their opinions?
    Still—how could it have been Sean when he was working hard at the next farm, a quarter of a mile away?
    It wouldn’t have taken long to set the fire. A healthy man could easily run the distance, there and back, in less than ten minutes. If one allowed five for finding a lantern, lighting it, and tip-ping it over…would anyone have noticed if Sean had been away for fifteen minutes?
    But why would he do such a thing? It made no sense, who-ever had done it. Robbery from a man so much the worse for drink that he didn’t even know the barn was on fire?
    The police didn’t always worry about why. If a person could have done a crime, that was often enough to convince the police that he had done it. In Hilda’s experience, the police were often lazy at best, incompetent at worst.
    She got off the bed, tidied her hair, put on her shoes, and went to find Sean.
    He was at Norah’s bedside, of course. Norah was feeding the baby while Sean looked on adoringly.
    â€œNorah, when is the last time you had something to eat?” asked Hilda.
    â€œEat? I don’t know.” She sounded dreamy.
    Hilda made scolding noises with her tongue. “You must eat, or you will be unable to feed Fiona. I will go down to the kitchen. I have told Eileen and Mrs. O’Rourke that they must rest, but there will be cold food for everyone. I will bring you a tray. Sean, come with me to help, and to get some food for yourself. I think you have not eaten for a long time, either.”
    â€œOh, I’m not hungry—I’ll stay here with Norah—”
    â€œI need your help, Sean. It will not take long.” It would take, thought Hilda grimly as she led him from the room, as long as was necessary to get a coherent story out of him.
    The cook had set out cold ham, cheese, pickled beets, and applesauce. There was a fresh loaf of bread, and the kettle of potato soup from lunch was sitting on the stove, needing only a