Deeply Devoted by Maggie Brendan Page A

felt quite right.
    He paused his raking and swept his hand across his brow. Maybe he’d rushed her or should have let her have more time to rest up from the trip. That’s why he hadn’t awakened her when he came back—she was sleeping peacefully, until the dream. Was that what had upset her, or was she upset with him? Lord, you’re gonna have to lead me in handling my new bride. Show me what to do or what to say to make her comfortable.
    Peter felt he’d been as gentle and as romantic as he knew how to be. But he had no experience with the art of lovemaking. Maybe he’d talk to Mario. He and Angelina were affectionate and deliriously in love. He wanted that too—was it too much to ask? But how in the world would they get to that point?

     
    Catharine and Greta dragged one of their trunks to the sitting room and began unpacking their personal belongings. Catharine lifted out her most prized possession. Only a few pieces of Blue Willow china had been salvaged after the trunk was damaged during a storm on the ship. She treasured the beautiful teapot, cups, saucers, and sugar and creamer, but the rest had been broken into a million pieces.
    “Why don’t you set it on the tea cart, Cath?” Anna suggested when tears filled her sister’s eyes.
    Catharine looked around. “But there’s a rose teapot there already.”
    “So?” Greta said, her hands on her hips. “This is your home now. You can do as you please, Sis.”
    Catharine chewed her bottom lip. “I suppose you’re right.” She carried her tea set over to the cart near the settee, and Anna picked up the rose teapot and cups and carried them to the dining room.
    After several trips up and down the stairs, carrying their clothing and other personal items, they were hot and thirsty. “I could use something cold to drink.” Catharine wiped her hands on her apron. “Then we’ll need to carry this trunk to the attic. Peter has enough to take care of.”
    “I’ll fetch us some water,” Greta said. “We can take a short break first.” She strode to the kitchen in search of glasses.
    Anna sat down and leaned back on the settee. “Whew, I’m tired. I think I’ll take a walk outside. It’s stuffy in here.”
    Catharine pulled back the chintz drapery and shoved open the windows, allowing a breeze to circulate in the room. She wondered what she would put together for lunch and what time Peter would return. She’d have to come up with something. She didn’t even own a cookbook, but maybe there was one in the kitchen somewhere.
    Greta returned with a pitcher of water and three glasses. They gulped the water down and then had another glass. “The dry weather here is making me so thirsty!” Greta said, setting down her empty glass.
    “I have to agree with you, but one good thing—water is good for you, and it hits the spot.”
    Anna laughed. “I’ve never seen you choose water over hot tea!”
    “Never fear, dear sister, when I’ve had a chance to get this trunk upstairs and cool off, my tea will be made,” Catharine said.
    Anna chuckled, and Greta just shook her head and smiled at her.
    “Okay, let’s see if we can haul this trunk to the attic and get it out of the way.” Catharine grabbed one of the leather straps on the end. “It’s heavy, but not nearly like it was before we emptied it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Anna slip out the door. She knew her sister was itching to explore the surrounding area. Catharine understood her free spirit, but she was trying hard to instill the importance of having responsibility in Anna’s life. How did you teach a fifteen-year-old how to do that when her head was in the clouds most of the time? She sighed. Sometimes the responsibility of being mother and father to her sisters was a struggle, and she felt the weight of it on her shoulders.
    “Are you all right? You sure are doing a lot of sighing,” Greta said, taking her end of the trunk.
    “ Ja , I’m fine . . . just thinking.” They