Hope Remains: A Hope Springs Fanfiction

Chapter 18

Emma caught herself humming Inisheer often over the next several days. She hummed it now as she walked home from church on Sunday. Oh, it had been so nice to be laughing and talking to Finbarr again! Even more of their old comradeship had returned during the informal mirth of the evening spent with his family. Spending time with the O'Connors had been a balm to her soul. She had always felt like one of them, Biddy especially had always felt like an aunt to her. She had spent nearly every day with one or more of the O'Connors, right up until the fire had stolen Finbarr's sight. After that, she had remained relatively distant for several years, longing to be a part of them again. Whether Finbarr had known it or not, being part of their jam-making party had been exactly what she'd needed.

But the visit had also raised a great many questions in her mind. Biddy's mention that the town no longer had a teacher had set her mind spinning. She had kept the dream of becoming a teacher in her heart for a long time, ever since she had taught Katie to read. But she had never voiced that desire out loud to anyone, not even her family. What if she chose to remain in Hope Springs? Could she become the teacher? Papa could put forward her name in the next town council meeting, they could assess her skills and put it to a vote. She tried not to get her hopes too high, as she had never had any formal training. But she was good at mathematics, she had taught Katie to read when she was only nine years old, and she knew the pupils well enough to know their needs.

But would that be enough?

Worry and doubt crept in on her and she silently wished she had someone to talk to about her plan. Papa and Katie would be supportive, she knew that without question. But she wanted someone who would be realistic, someone who she could count on to offer an objective opinion. Finbarr's face immediately flashed through her mind, but she batted it away. While their relationship was certainly much better than it had been—her heart thumped wildly as she remembered their almost kiss—she wasn't sure she was ready to trust him fully with the deepest desires of her heart.

"Emma," Peter called, catching up with her just past the church yard fence. Emma always avoided looking at the little white headstone under the willow tree. The reminder of Marianne's death always twisted her gut with guilt.

But today, Peter drove her sad thoughts away. She turned, smiling as he matched his stride to hers. "May I walk with you?"

"It appears you already are," she smiled, threading her arm through his. "But I suppose you could continue."

Humor filled his tone. "That was my plan all along, it makes it more difficult to refuse if I'm already doing the thing I'm asking about."

They strolled down the main road together, stopping in at Johnson's mercantile. Carol Johnson stepped to the counter, a knowing smile playing around her lips. "What can I get for you?"

"I have a hankering for a licorice whip," Peter grinned, pulling some coins from his pocket and plunking them down on the counter. "What do you want, sweet Emma?"

"Butterscotch," Mrs. Johnson's eyes twinkled with amusement before Emma had even opened her mouth. "Am I correct?"

Emma laughed. "As always. Am I truly that predictable?"

"No, darling," Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "I only remember what my favorite customers like."

Mrs. Johnson winked, making Emma's smile widen. "In that case, yes, a butterscotch would be perfect."

Peter paid for the candies as she looked around the shop. There were no new books on the shelf after the Johnson's last run to the depot, but there was a new Harper's periodical. She picked it up, flipping through the pages to the serialized story. It was a new one from Mr. Twain. She found herself so engrossed, she didn't hear Peter come up behind her.