Gemma was on his mind, as a matter of fact. Something had been bothering her the night before, something other than needing a job. And though she’d slipped out early that morning, likely to go talk with Móirín about finding a position, he was certain she hadn’t left permanently. But how long would it be before she did precisely that?

“Would it surprise you if I told you she is often on my mind, and not just this past week?”

Mrs. Simms gave a firm nod. “It would surprise me, but mostly because you’ve never said a word about her.”

“It was complicated. It still is.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy her. “Nothing complicated about saying ‘Mrs. Simms, I have a wife wandering about somewhere, and that’s the reason I don’t talk about things like getting married or courting anyone.’ Would’ve been the easiest thing in the world.”

She was right, of course. He’d avoided the topic because it was difficult to explain but also because, when he thought on it, he felt uneasy.

“I’m not the most tenderhearted of women,” Mrs. Simms said, “but I don’t like the idea of you being hurt.”

She was forever discounting her own benevolence. “Caring about people is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Then why do you tuck your heart away as if you haven’t one at all? Seems to me, you think it something worth feeling shame over.”

Mrs. Simms continued folding bandages. Her criticism was not entirely unfounded. Leading with his heart had proven a poor choice in the past, making difficult decisions as a doctor impossible. It meant the pain of losing people was almost too sharp to bear. Keeping a clear head and his heart at a distance was far more advisable.

“Are you pleased to have Mrs. Milligan here?” Mrs. Simms asked, echoing the very question Gemma had posed the night before.

Why did either of them think he would be displeased? He couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t enjoy Gemma’s company.

“It is good to see her again,” he said. “If nothing else, I don’t worry about her while she’s here.”

“And is that the only reason you’re glad she’s staying at the house for now?” Mrs. Simms never let a topic lie before she got the answers she wanted.

“I like Gemma. She brightens the house, and she makes me smile, which I appreciate.”

Mrs. Simms made a sound of pondering but no further comment. They worked for a while without talking. They both tended toward companionable silence in conversation when it was just the two of them.

Into the midst of this pause, a boy of about twelve years old rushed inside. “There’s a fire, Doc. Not too far off. Fletch told me to come get you.”