Finbarr found himself smiling more than he had ever smiled before when he was with Emma. She was like a light in his life, that even though he couldn't see it, he felt it with every fiber of his being. This was exactly what he had been missing all these years. While he wandered in darkness, his light had lingered just beyond the corner, waiting to take him out of the miserable darkness that had been his life.

And now that he had found his light, he never wanted to let it go.

"You play the penny whistle exceptionally well, Finbarr," Emma said as they strolled around the house. He knew the yard and fields of this house like the back of his hand, yet he didn't want to tell Emma that, otherwise she might've released his arm.

"Why, thank you, Miss Emma," he smiled. "I ought to teach you. That way you can play at ceílís alongside me."

"I don't know about the penny whistle," she laughed, and the sound alone created a warmth inside him, fanning the flame that had already existed for years. "But I do play the piano."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Really? I think I should have known that already."

"My father thought I needed a hobby other than reading. I do enjoy playing. Very much."

Although he tried not to sound too eager, he knew it was likely a hopeless case. "Will you play something for me?"

She paused, and for a moment, he thought she might refuse his request. But finally, she tightened her grip on his arm and steered him toward the house. "I'll indulge you, Finbarr O'Connor. But only if you sing with me."

"Sing?"

"It's only fair," she laughed, leading him inside. She took his hand and touched it to the surface of something smooth, like the wood of his cane. It was then that he realized it was a piano. He trailed his fingers along the large instrument, feeling the keys, touching the wood, and then he situated himself at the corner, resting his arms on the top as he smiled at her. It wasn't always easy to guess where her eyes were unless she was talking, but if he didn't look her in the eye, she didn't seem to mind.

"How about I just listen?" he suggested. "I've never heard you play or sing before. Besides, I'm not the best singer."

"Oh, hush," she said as she playfully swatted his arm, and he could hear the eye roll in her voice. "I've heard you sing plenty of times and you can put songbirds to shame. If I play, you will sing with me. That's the deal."

He smiled and shrugged, listening to the bench squeak as she sat down at the piano. He didn't have any qualms against singing with her just as long as no one else could hear them, and from the sound of it, he didn't hear anyone else in the house. At least as far as he could tell. Besides, his curiosity had him dying to hear her play.

"This should be a song you already know," Emma said softly. "Katie taught it to me. It's one from Ireland."

Her fingers began moving, starting with a slow, gentle melody. Finbarr recognized it immediately as Red is the Rose, though he had never heard it played on the piano before. A blush crept up his neck before he had a chance to stop it. This was a traditional love song from his homeland. Why had she picked it?

Emma began singing the first verse, and his mouth dropped open at the sound that came out of her mouth. It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. Feminine, mature, and it made him view Emma in a completely different light.

"Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, Fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any."

She patted his hand, and he had to snap himself out of his awe to sing the next verse. "Come over the hills, my bonny Irish lass, Come over the hills to your darling; You choose the rose, love, and I'll make the vow, And I'll be your true love forever."

Once more, she patted his hand and he stopped singing as she sang the chorus herself, and he sighed in awe at the raw beauty of her voice. He had never heard anything more beautiful in his life. "Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, Fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any."

Finbarr smiled when Emma patted his hand, indicating for him to sing the next verse, which he did gladly. "'Twas down by Killarney's green woods that we strayed, And the moon and the stars they were shining; The moon shone its rays on her locks of brunette hair." He had changed golden to brunette, smiling as he reached out and touched her soft locks, grateful that he found it on the first try. "And she swore she'd be my love forever."

She giggled, though he recognized the timidity in her laugh. He meant those words, even if they were only the words to a song.

When she didn't pat his hand to stop, he continued singing the chorus, surprised when she joined him in harmony, their voices melding perfectly together. "Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, Fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any."

The words cut off for several notes, and when she patted his hand, he gladly let her sing the next verse, hanging onto every note, every syllable. He loved this woman. With all his heart.

"It's not for the parting that my sister pains. It's not for the grief of my mother, 'Tis all for the loss of my bonny Irish lass, That my heart is breaking forever."

That verse was sad, and it didn't quite fit with the rest of the song, which was why people thought the correct words had been misheard as the song was passed down from generation to generation.

She patted his hand and they both sang the chorus together again, their voices melding together like bread and honey. "Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, Fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any."

"My love is fairer than any," she sang, and then patted his hand to finish the song.

"My love is fairer than any."

She finished the song with several notes from the piano, holding the last note for several seconds before silence filled the room. His heart surged with happiness as he smiled brightly. He loved Emma so very much.

A chorus of clapping on the far side of the room caused his smile to vanish immediately, and he stood up stick straight, a furious blush filling the entirety of his face. He hadn't realized they had an audience, otherwise he never would have agreed to sing.

"Beautiful, that was," Katie Archer said. "Was that not the most beautiful duet you've ever heard, Joseph?"

"It was," Joseph agreed.

A moment later, Finbarr picked out a pair of footsteps storming away, promptly followed by a slamming door. He grimaced when he realized that Mr. Kent had also witnessed the duet, and apparently, he didn't take it well. He, too, was courting Emma, and to Finbarr's great frustration, he didn't know whether or not Emma would choose him in the end or if she would choose the wealthy lawyer. He desperately wanted her to stay in Hope Springs with him, but he didn't know how to convince her.

"Stay for dinner," Katie said as if sensing that Finbarr was ready to bolt, which he couldn't easily do unless he knew exactly where the door was. He'd rather not embarrass himself by running smack into the wall.

"Please," Emma whispered, and hearing her voice again sent warm shivers racing down his spine. She had the most melodic, angelic voice he had ever heard.

He shook his head and held his cane tightly in his hands, trying to listen for where he might find the door. Unfortunately, it was not an easy task. "You already have a guest and I know I am most unwelcome. Perhaps next time."

"Finbarr," she said, a fleeting panic in her voice as she stood.

He offered her a smile that he hoped might ease her worry. Gently, he reached for her hand, which took a couple tries to find, and only then, he suspected she had helped him find it. He placed a kiss on her fingers and held her hand for a moment too long. It was difficult to let it go. He never wanted to let her go again, but he had to. She needed to decide for herself what she wanted out of life. If she wanted to be the wife of a poor blind man, he would gladly offer it to her. If she wanted to be the wife of a wealthy lawyer, he would let her go. All he wanted was for her to be happy.

"I love you, Miss Emma," he whispered. He knew he had to remind her so she wouldn't forget.

Giving her one last smile, he whistled. Just outside, he heard Grady perk up, his bell jingling on his collar as he rushed to where Finbarr assumed was the door. He sighed in relief as he used his cane to help guide him toward the door, and thankfully, he found it with Grady's help. He opened the door, his nose wrinkling as he caught the scent of a cigar. Very few people in Hope Springs smoked cigars due to the cost, so he knew the smell belonged to Mr. Kent. It was a rather unpleasant smell, but it had him wondering if Emma liked it. Did she like that Mr. Kent smoked? What about the man did she like? It must have been something, otherwise she wouldn't encourage his attention as she did.

Finbarr nodded in Mr. Kent's direction before allowing Grady to lead him back home. It pained him to leave the house knowing Mr. Kent was there, often around Emma. That gave the other man an advantage that Finbarr simply didn't have.

But in the end, this was Emma's decision. She had to decide who she wanted in her life.