Longing for Home by Sarah M. Eden

taking so much from him and his family. For two decades Katie had worked, trying to save enough to get back all he’d lost. Nothing she did could bring her sister back, but if she could only return her father’s land and the pride he’d once taken in working it, surely he’d forgive her all she’d done. Surely he’d love her again.
    Thunder rumbled around her. Katie eyed the sky with misgivings. The last thing she needed was lightning joining the fall of rain.
    She blew away the water dripping off her nose and running down her lips. Water had long since seeped into her badly worn shoes. She could endure a cold face, aching hands, wind piercing through her clothes. Hair heavy with rain could be borne. But when the cold reached her feet, Katie fought not to panic. She’d spent too many days and nights as a little girl crying from the pain of feet unprotected against the elements.
    “My feet are beginning to ache, Eimear,” she whispered into the punishing wind. Talking to her sister had become an oddly soothing habit over the years, one that gave her a sense of being less alone. “They’re growing cold.”
    But at least they are cold. Katie well remembered what it meant when one’s limbs stopped feeling frozen.
    A flash of lightning lit the sky, followed quickly by an ear-splitting crash of thunder. She’d best find shelter quickly. Katie had passed only two houses. The O’Connor home was the fifth down that road, a long distance to cover with a storm breaking overhead.
    She could see lights in a house not far distant but none beyond. Either the rain made seeing further impossible, or the next farm was quite far off. She’d not be making it to the O’Connors’ house in this storm.
    “Now what am I to do, Eimear? Continue on in the lightning, or turn in at a stranger’s farm?”
    Just beyond the small farmhouse sat a barn, silhouetted against the darkened night sky. No lights burned inside the barn, a sign the family who owned it had finished their work for the night. She could likely slip in without being seen.
    Another thunderous crash overhead made up her mind for her. Shelter was necessary sooner rather than later.
    For more than six weeks she’d followed her parents into barns or abandoned homes under the cover of night. Taking refuge in either place was against the law. They’d risked imprisonment every time, but winter weather was unforgiving in the vast openness of the Irish countryside. There’d been no money, no food, no home to return to.
    The storm brewed ever louder as she turned toward the barn, careful not to make more noise than necessary. She glanced now and then in the direction of the home as she passed. Quick flashes of light lit the sky, followed quickly by the deep roll of thunder.
    Her hand shook as she slowly pushed open the barn door. Blessed warmth sat inside. The rain no longer pelted her. The wind did not come inside, save the tiniest bit of a draft under the door. She could hear the sounds of animals moving about and talking in their own way to one another. They’d likely pay her little heed if she stayed near the door and kept quiet. Katie pressed her palm to the wall, following it almost blindly. A few paces inside, she set her carpetbag down before sliding to the ground herself.
    Katie pulled the wet woolen shawl off her head, laying it out across her bag. Perhaps it would dry out a bit before she need brave the storm once more. Water dripped down her face, off her nose and chin. She pulled her arms around herself, grateful for the respite despite the chill seeping through her wet clothes. A miserable, miserable night.
    She wiggled her toes, finding a deep sense of relief in knowing she still could. ’Twas a childish and silly fear of hers, but she worried that every moment of cold and wet would prove disastrous. Yet the worry never fully left her.
    She allowed her head to fall back against the barn wall, tired to her core. A barn was not the place she’d expected to spend