Doves Migration (20 page)

Tad stopped her as she continued, by taking her hand in his. “No matter
what that low-life has said, please take it from someone who knows what it
feels like to desire someone from afar, and know he is unworthy of her
heart. I’ve been in his shoes for three years.”
Such an intimate referral to how he felt, caused Miranda to blush and
look away. Tenderly, Tad placed his finger on the side of her chin and
guided her face back to him.
“Miranda, I say this not to embarrass you, or in hopes to win your
heart, but to explain that I understand O’Flaherty in part. As so many Irish,
they come here to America in hopes of a new life. After generations of
suppression, being forced to make a living as a sharecropper and hearing
tales of America as the land of opportunity, with its streets lined with gold
for the taking, they come here primarily to reclaim their manhood. What a
disappointment it must be for them to discover that the opportunities are
rare to immigrants. And even harder to accept that men of means, who they
despise immediately out of jealousy, also have women they can only dream
of. And Miranda, you are such a woman--beautiful, kind-hearted and gentle
natured. Is it any wonder that man’s pride was insulted when I dismissed
him so abruptly yesterday? However, if he or any other man with such a
lack of integrity tried to speak with you again, I would not hesitate in doing
the same, feeling as I do for you.”
Never had a man spoken to her with such tenderness and Miranda’s
heart leapt for joy as her pulse increased. As if she were in a dream, he
leaned closer, and feeling his breath on her face, she eagerly accepted his
advancement. Feeling no resistance, Tad parted her lips with his tongue as
he slipped his hand around her waist to draw her, trembling, closer to him.
As the urgency of their kiss increased, Miranda gave in to her desires
and guided her hand around the nape of his neck, never experiencing such
pleasure from a man’s touch before. Then suddenly hearing herself moan,
she jerked away recalling Elmira’s moan of pleasure as her father and she
had indulged in such pleasures.
Shaken to her very core, Miranda stood, turning from Tad and
whispered, “I’m sorry . . .”
Going to her, he whispered, “It’s I who should apologize, for taking
advantage of you.”
Miranda, with tears streaming down her cheeks, shook her head. “You
didn’t take advantage of me Tad. I wanted this to happen just as much as
you. It’s just . . .”
Gently, Tad turned her to him with concern in his eyes. “Oh please
don’t cry, Miranda dear. Whatever has hurt you in the past must be deep, if
a kiss makes you tremble. Will you tell me what it is? You know everything
about me, and I know so little of you, except that I’m hopelessly in love
with you and have been for quite sometime.”
Hearing such words, her heart raced and more tears flowed. “Tad,
please don’t say such things . . . There’s so much of my past you know
nothing of. Things that I’ve done, I will have to live with until the day I
die.”
He held her close to him, and whispered, “And one day I hope you will
trust me enough to share what it is that has caused you such pain. For now
I won’t press you to share the demons that torture you. Just please don’t
push me away, especially when we need one another so desperately.”
Hearing him say he needed her, Miranda suddenly felt safe in his arms,
and she knew what he said was true--they did need one another. Lifting her
head, she nodded as his lips found hers again. This time she didn’t pull
away from the desires stirring inside her, but welcomed the comfort she felt
in his arms.
Their moment of tenderness was interrupted by Michael, who
embarrassed at finding his son and Miranda embracing in the family
garden, coughed to warn them of his presence.
Nervously, Miranda turned from Michael, hearing him say, “Excuse
me Tad and Miranda at such an inopportune time, but son, you have a
visitor who is quite anxious to speak with you--a Mr. Daniel Hobbs.”
“Yes father. Would you please ask him to wait? I’ll be right there.”
Nodding his response, Michael, with a smile on his face, turned back to
the house while Tad tried to reassure Miranda who looked up at him
anxiously. “Dearest, don’t be embarrassed. I’ll explain to Father that I was
thanking you for tending to my wound.”
“I’m not worried about that--well perhaps a little--but what troubles me
most is Mr. Hobbs. Isn’t he the man who was with you . . . I mean, Tad you
have no idea the hate I saw in Mr. O’Flaherty’s eyes. It worries me . . .”
“Listen to me, Miranda. For the first time in my life, I have something
to live for. Father and I are trying to work out our differences and now
we . . .” Tad paused, seeing her look of anxiousness speaking about the two
of them, so he continued saying. “Nothing is going to come between us
getting to know one another now that we are finally able to trust one
another. You do trust me don’t you Miranda?”
His question took her by surprise. “Yes Tad, I do,” she said, realizing
he had earned her trust by being so forthright.
“Good. So please trust me to handle this. Just promise me that you’ll
stay clear of O’Flaherty. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
As if the matter had been settled, Tad kissed her forehead and excused
himself. As she watched him walk back toward the house to meet with his
friend Daniel, she couldn’t stop the feeling of pending doom. As she gazed
into the garden, her mind flooded with the events of the past few days.
She absentmindedly smelled a sprig of lilacs from the bush, and a
smile crossed her lips, recalling how Tad had picked some for her.
How
could she possibly feel so close with this man after twenty-four hours, when
for years she had been repelled by his advances?
Even now, after he had told her everything about the fight he had with
Gilbert, something inside her screamed there was more to the argument
between her and Gilbert.
Dear God, how can I feel so safe in his arms but
doubt him the moment he leaves? What is wrong with me?
So engrossed in her thoughts, Miranda hadn’t seen Gilbert step closer,
watching her in wonderment. Disgusted that she was so easily swayed, he
turned and walked back to the alley and pushed his cart to his next stop.
Sarah called out, walking into the gardens, “Miranda dear, would you
care for some company?” She smiled fondly at her, feeling particularly
maternal, especially since Michael told her what he had witnessed only
moments earlier.
“Oh Mrs. Honeycutt, I didn’t hear you coming. How are you today?”
she said politely, knowing by the smile on her face she knew about Tad’s
and her embrace.
Sarah nodded, placing her arm around the girl she had known since she
was a baby. “That was very kind of you to tend to Tad last evening. And
since he and his father have begun to clear the air regarding their
differences, it would appear you had something to do with that healing
too.”
Miranda smiled. “Nothing that you and Mr. Honeycutt haven’t already
done for Papa and me. Why I can’t imagine what would have become of us
if it hadn’t been for the both of you.”
“Sweetheart, we were only too glad to help.” Seeing that Miranda felt
uncomfortable, Sarah said, “Miranda, you do know that if there is anything
you need or want I’m always here for you, don’t you? I may not be your
mother, nor would I ever dream of trying to replace her . . . but surely you
must realize that I’ve loved you since you were born.”
“I know Mrs. Honeycutt, and I love you too. I’m concerned about
something but I need to work out on my own,” Miranda said softly.
Nodding, Sarah said, “Yes. Especially since that something or someone
is Michael’s son. Now I’m not going to pretend I don’t know about you
two young folks kissing earlier, nor that both Michael and I wouldn’t
welcome having you in Tad’s life. We both view you as a loving, wise
young woman, whom we love very much. It’s because we do love you, we
want you to know that if a romance should develop between Tad and you,
above all else darling, make sure that this is what
you
want. Don’t let your
heart be pressured or manipulated into caring for someone out of gratitude.
In other words, Miranda, don’t feel you need to do this for Tad, Michael,
the Honeycutt’s, your father, or me. Because it’s your heart you are
following and ultimately it’s your heart that will either soar or suffer in the
end.”
Miranda, touched by Sarah’s kind words, hugged her. “Oh Mrs.
Honeycutt, thank you. I’m already so confused.”
“Darling, take your time. When it comes to affairs of the heart, it’s
always confusing. All I can say is trust your heart, and above all be patient.
Just look at Elise and Joshua, or myself for that matter. When I first met
Michael, he was nothing more than a kind man who rented a room. Now
he’s my world. When a woman gives her heart to a man, truly gives it
openly and freely, she lives to please only him. So dearest, be very sure
he’s worthy of such love.”
“But how do you know if he is? I mean, how did you know, or Elise
know Joshua was the right one?”
“My mother told me once that a man’s pride will prevent him from
sharing his inner thoughts sometimes, but a man’s eyes are the mirror to his
soul. And so far, she’s never been wrong.”
With those words of wisdom, the two of them joined the Honeycutt’s
and Sterling’s for cocktails before dinner. As Miranda watched the three
couples she couldn’t help but notice that when James Sterling spoke to his
wife, although his words were pleasant, his eyes showed no warmth. But
for that matter, neither were Lavinia’s toward her husband. Just before
dinner, Tad joined them and smiled at her, but his eyes reflected agitation.
Miranda smiled knowingly at Sarah who responded with a nod. Turning
her attention to Tad, Miranda asked, “Is everything alright?”
“Couldn’t be better,” he replied, but instinctively she knew he was
lying by the look in his eyes.
As they sat around the table, Sarah noticed the look between Vivian
and Lavinia, and she braced herself expecting Lavinia to make mention of
the cut over Tad’s eye, or something equally none of her business.
“Miranda dear, don’t think I’ve forgotten about our shopping date.
What time will be good for you tomorrow? After all, the theatre does
require a certain flair in our choice of fashion. Have you decided what play
you plan to attend?”
Not giving the matter any thought since earlier this morning, Miranda
looked at Tad shyly, hoping he would answer Lavinia.
“Well in fact, I was going to discuss this with Miranda in private, but I
had thought perhaps we might take in those flashing pictures from the
Cinematoscope or perhaps do some reading together.” Tad said looking at
Miranda for approval.
“Reading sounds lovely,” Miranda said shyly while nodding to
Beatrice for more soup.
“Ah well, as a writer myself you’ll hear no complaints from me on
your choice of entertainment. What novel did you have in mind, son?”
Michael asked, looking across the table to Tad.
With a devilish grin, Tad replied, “I fancy Dickens myself. Perhaps,
Our Mutual Friends
. Gasps could be heard around the table, and receiving
the shocked response he intended, Tad smiled victoriously while taking a
sip of his soup.
Outraged by such a comment, Alfred arched his eyebrow and
scornfully looked at his grandson. “I hardly think such a book would be
considered appropriate. If memory serves me correct, Pearson wrote that
Dickens’ works are ‘filthy and bestial, an honest man would admit one into
his house for a water-closet doormat’. And I agree with him. I absolutely
forbid it, Tad.”
Tad's smile faded and he looked at his grandfather, saying in a
respectful tone, “Actually Grandfather, I was thinking Hawthorne’s
The
House of Seven Gables,
or the tale of his life at Brook Farm,
The Blithedale
Romance
might be more appropriate”
Glancing his son then at Tad, Alfred said, “A far better choice.”
“Ah Hawthorne, yes I’ve rather enjoyed some of his novels,” Lavinia
said, adding her two cent’s worth.
With a gleam in his eyes, James said, “Indeed, as I recall, you read
The
Scarlet Letter
several times, dear. Wasn’t that also Hawthorne’s work?”
No one responded to James’s comment, and immediately all looked at
their soup seeing the angry glare Lavinia gave her husband.
With a pasted smile to her lips, Lavinia retaliated. “It surprises me you
noticed dear, so preoccupied by
Dickens and America-
what was that
passage I read regarding delusion of grandeur? Ah yes I remember, ‘The
lunatic is the man who lives in a small world, but thinks it is a large one’.
Personally, I tend to agree with Alfred. Dickens is rather off color and not
at all worth reading.”
Again, there was complete silence around the dinner table as Alfred
looked to James then back at Lavinia. “Begging your pardon Lavinia, dear.
I believe Dickens was referring to those who are able to see their world for
what it is and once they do, they become dissatisfied and sadly realize that
what they had once thought was truth, was merely a fallacy. Wasn’t that
your interpretation James?”
Coughing to hide his chuckle, James nodded his head. “Yes, as a
matter of fact, I did, Alfred. Opening your eyes to the truth is often
painful.” Then glaring at Lavinia, he added, “Perhaps, my dear, I could
lend you my copy to reread the entire book so you might fully grasp
Dickens’s meaning.”
“No that won’t be necessary,
dear
,” she said smiling at her husband,
but it was clear for everyone to see that Lavinia’s smile showed anything
but warmth.
Obviously enjoying that the conversation had shifted to someone other
than himself, Tad said, “Grandfather, I’m shocked that you know of
Dickens’ work so well, considering you clearly don’t approve of me
reading it to Miranda.”
“I never said I hadn’t read Dickens, Tad. What I said was, I do not
approve of his writing and reading it with someone, especially if that
person happens to be Miranda.” Pausing to smile fondly at her then
directing his attention back to Tad he added. “As I view it, a good business
man should be knowledgeable on all subjects if he is to remain on top of
his game. Literature being no exception, particularly since it’s these writers
that formulate a man’s way of thinking.”