Finbarr's front door slammed open, startling him out of his wits. He reacted on instinct and grabbed his whittling knife to defend himself, but he soon realized it would not be needed.

"Finbarr O'Connor," Biddy said, slamming the door behind her just as hard. He cringed. After all, he had just fixed that door. "What's this about you letting Mr. Kent have his way with Emma?"

He groaned exhaustedly and set the whittling knife back onto the table, settling more comfortably into his chair beside the hearth. The damp cloth soaked with river water had fallen to the floor when he had jumped at Biddy's loud entrance, and he picked it back up and placed it over his eyes. They ached something fierce today, and he knew why. Walking back and forth between his home and the Archer's every day and working in his fields was taking a toll on him. It was days like these he wished more than anything to give in and take powders for the pain. But powders would make him sleepy, and he didn't want that to negatively affect his work.

"I know what I'm doing," he muttered, putting pressure on the damp cloth to help relieve some of the pain.

"Do you?" she asked indignantly, and he could imagine her putting her hands on her hips as she stared him down. "Because she sure seems all too eager to be courting Peter Kent. Did you know they were courting?"

He sighed and got to his feet, placing his hands on the chair to help orient himself in the room. "Yes, I know. And I also know he's a good man and he makes her happy. But Biddy... This isn't about letting Mr. Kent have his way. I know Emma loves me. And I also know she's rather fond of Mr. Kent. Do you think this doesn't hurt to let her figure out what she wants on her own?"

Biddy took his hands and gave them a squeeze. "You're not fighting hard enough, Finbarr. Don't let Peter drive you away from Emma. You have given up easily in the past, and I truly don't want to see you give up on her just because you feel like you have to."

"I don't feel like that—"

"Then why did you leave the Archer's yesterday when Peter came over? You let him push you away."

"I gave him a turn, Biddy. How will Emma ever know if she wants me if I don't allow her to spend time with Mr. Kent too? If she chooses me, I don't want her to have any regrets. I want all of her heart, but I can't get it if I force her to give it to me."

They were quiet for a moment, and he was grateful that she seemed to understand his reasoning.

"And if she chooses Peter?" she finally asked. "He'll take her away from Hope Springs. You know that, don't you? T'isn't likely she'll come back to visit that often. You'll lose her. Completely."

His fingers gripped the top of the chair at the mention. "It's a gamble I need to make."

She sighed and wrapped her arms around him. Her touch felt comforting, exactly what he needed when everything was so confusing. "If you want all of her heart, you need to give all of your heart to her."

"I have."

She shook her head against his chest. "You haven't. I can see that you still hide your pain away. You need to share it."

"Emma doesn't need to be burdened by my pain."

Biddy let go of him and took several steps away. "Love is not easy, Finbarr. Marriage is hard. That's why we share each other's burdens. If Ian ever hid his pain and hardships from me, it would push me away. I reckon you'll push Emma away without knowing it. If you want to spend the rest of your life with her, then give your heart to her. All of it."

He crossed his arms, staring at the darkness that was the ground. He didn't want to talk about the fire again. It brought up past pain and guilt he would rather leave buried under the rubble of that collapsed barn. If he had saved Marianne, she would have been Emma's age by now. Perhaps he would have danced with her at a few ceílís. He might have sat across from her at a couple suppers at the Johnson's. He might have even become good friends with her. But now she was buried in the churchyard, and nothing he could do would change that.

Thankfully, Biddy dropped the subject. "You're going to be late to the barn raising."

"I'd rather not go. Mr. Kent asked Emma to go with him."

"And she declined."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had fully expected her to have accepted Mr. Kent's invitation, especially because he was new to town. Why had she declined?

"Why didn't you ask her to go with you, Finbarr?" Biddy asked impatiently. "You can't let Peter Kent win all the battles. You need to win some of your own."

With a roll of his eyes, he answered, "I was in the middle of my sentence to ask her, and Mr. Kent literally stole the words right from my mouth. What was I supposed to do? Say 'no, Emma, go with me instead'? I didn't want to make her uncomfortable."

"And you practically opened the door right into Mr. Kent's arms," Biddy said. "Emma didn't even have to open the door herself. What a gentleman you are."

"I get your point," he growled, slowly moving across the room before he located his boots that sat near the door. He tugged them onto each foot, trying his best to ignore the pain pulsing across his eyes. This was not going to be an easy night. "I messed up. I'll fix it, alright? I'll fix it."

Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea how he was going to do that.

Biddy tucked her arm through his and together, they made their way to the Bartlett's. Finbarr heard the jovial music long before he heard the laughter and talking. Years ago, going to any kind of social function had terrified him to pieces, but now he looked forward to it. At parties, he either spent most of the evening with his penny whistle in his hand, or he sat in a corner, talking to anyone who came by to see him. It wasn't easy to seek anyone out being blind. He unfortunately had to wait for people to come to him.

When his sister-in-law released his arm to talk to one of her friends, he momentarily panicked. The music drowned him in a sea of chaos in the confined barn, far too loud in his ears to hear much of anything else. He did just fine with loud sounds in open spaces, but in confined spaces, he was in complete, chaotic darkness.

He turned around, but he found that he wasn't sure where he was or which way the exit was located. Even when he listened for Grady's jingling collar, he couldn't find that either. Where had Biddy gone? Was his family here? And why was everything so loud?

He had made a mistake by coming here. He felt lost. So completely, utterly lost.

Just when he thought he was going to drown in the darkness, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, turning him around and leading him away. The music became quieter with each footstep, and he felt the fresh air fill his lungs as if he had just taken his first breath after being underwater for so long. He was outside again. Outside in the open. He was safe.

The strong arm led him to a bale of hay, and he sat gratefully, his head between his knees as he tried to catch his breath. That was awful. Just awful.

"Are you alright, Finbarr?" Joseph Archer asked, and Finbarr breathed another sigh of relief when he realized it was someone he knew well.

"I'm alright," he said, focusing on taking deep breaths. Grady bounded toward them, his bells jingling as if he had been outside the barn the entire time. "I get...I get a little overwhelmed. Like I'm drowning."

"It's nearly too loud to hear yourself talk, let alone hear your own thoughts."

"I am so embarrassed," he sighed, hanging his head dejectedly. "This seems like it would be such a trivial matter to anyone else."

Joseph placed a hand on his shoulder, and the feeling brought him immense comfort. "Let's put blindfolds on everyone and see how they fare for the night." His tone was joking, and Finbarr couldn't help but grin at the jest. Joseph always knew how to cheer him up.

"And you have a few dozen blindfolds lying around?"

"I always do on occasions such as these."

He laughed and finally felt balanced enough to give the barn another try. He stood up, grateful when Joseph placed a steady hand on his elbow to guide him through the chaos surrounding him. It was much easier to navigate the sea of confusion with someone by his side.

Joseph led him to a chair, and his family greeted him all at once. His ma gave him a kiss on the cheek and his da touched his elbow to let him know he was there. It felt good to be surrounded by family. They were his anchors when the tempest became too much for him to handle.

"I'll be on the opposite side of the barn if you need me," Joseph said loudly enough to be heard, and Finbarr smiled gratefully. Joseph had been there for him through the thick and thin. He was as much like a father to him as his own da.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you," Biddy said, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind and planting a kiss on his cheek. "I know better, but I just forgot."

He patted his sister-in-law's hand reassuringly. He was already ready to leave the barn raising, but he couldn't leave while Emma and Mr. Kent were here. He had to fight harder for Emma. As hard as he could fight.

The music stopped, and a moment of peace filled his soul. Surely Cecily wasn't faring any better than him, especially as Kathleen cried several seats away. He was about to offer to take the baby from her when Seamus spoke loud for everyone to hear.

"I hope you're up for a little dancing, because there will be dancing all night long! Or at least as long as our fingers hold up." A chorus of laughter filled the entire barn, and his joke even brought a smile to Finbarr's lips. "Find a partner for Walls of Limerick."

On the other side of the barn, he picked out Mr. Kent's unmistakable voice. "May I have this dance, Emma?"

"Are you sure?" she asked. "It's not an easy one for a beginner."

"I am a great dancer," Mr. Kent laughed. "I think I can keep up."

Emma giggled. "Then I would love to dance with you."

Finbarr cursed his luck. He hated this dance. He bumped into someone at least twice every time he tried it, but he couldn't let Mr. Kent win this battle. Like Biddy had said, he needed to win a few battles too.

"Biddy?" he asked, but to his dismay, she was no longer by his side.

"Need someone to dance with?" Da laughed. "There are a few beautiful young women several paces to your right."

"Who are they?"

"Beggars can't be choosers, son."

He took a fortifying breath and made his way to where his father said the young women were. If he didn't ask soon, the dance would start without him. "Will one of you be my partner?"

The girls laughed, three distinct laughs, and he immediately knew who they were. Annie Desmond and her two friends, Dorothy Jones and Lucille Wilson. The trio. This day could not get any worse. But Emma was worth the humiliation of asking for a partner.

"I would not be seen dancing with a blind man," Annie laughed again. "A partner is supposed to lead. Not get lost. How embarrassing."

"Oh, take pity on him, won't you?" Dorothy said, but he heard the intent in her voice enough to know what was coming. "Someone needs to herd a sick, lost puppy."

They burst into laughter, and he blushed to the roots of his hair. This was humiliating. Mr. Kent could win this battle. He wanted to go home.

"I get it," he muttered, turning around and heading toward where he remembered the door being. It was much easier to find it this time when the music wasn't suffocating him as it had before.

However, before he could reach the door, he felt a hand slip into his, and he jumped in surprise. His first thought was that it was Emma's, but this hand felt different. The fingers were longer and more slender, the skin a bit colder to the touch.

"You promised me a dance, Finbarr," Ivy pouted. "Remember? You said you would help me make Aiden jealous."

He shrugged and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "I think I'd rather go home at the moment."

"Please?" she begged. "I don't care what those witches say. I would love to dance with a blind man. You're one of the best dancers I have ever danced with, Finbarr."

"Last call for partners!" Seamus called.

"Fine," he sighed, now wishing he was the one with the blindfold, because at least that would help him hide, if even a little. "Please don't let me bump into anyone."

They took their positions in the line, and he immediately knew they faced Emma and Mr. Kent, made quite obvious from the laughter that quieted at their approach. A sinking feeling entered his stomach. Finbarr was going to lose her. She would choose Mr. Kent, he would take her away from Hope Springs forever, and he was going to lose her. Did Emma view him as a sick, lost puppy? Did she think he wasn't worth dancing with because he was blind? She hadn't danced with him at the last ceílí when he had tried to ask, yet she seemed quite content to dance with Mr. Kent just now.

"I think I changed my mind," he said quietly to Ivy, but when he tried to release her hand, she held on tighter.

"You promised, Finbarr. Don't you go breaking your promises to me now."

He couldn't even reply before the music started. He held Ivy's hand higher as they skipped forward and backward, forward and backward, each time he knew he skipped closer to Emma. He stood still for several beats as he waited for Emma and Ivy to skip around each other, and then he did the same thing with Mr. Kent, listening for his proximity so he wouldn't bump into the other man. When he returned to his spot, he took hands with his partner, but he was surprised to find that it was no longer Ivy's hands that he held, but Emma's.

"I'm sorry," he said with a grimace as they held on tightly to each other's hands and spun in a circle around each other. "Did I mess up?"

"Ivy did it," she replied exasperatedly when they finally came to a standstill beside each other, now waiting for the middle couples to finish their portion. "She switched our spots. But I'm thinking Peter doesn't even have a clue what happened."

Finbarr grinned at that. Mr. Kent may be as great of a dancer as he claims to be, but he didn't know the first thing about Irish dances.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Finbarr," she said, and although she tried to sound stern, she snorted with laughter anyway.

"I can't help it. And it seems that neither can you."

He lightly brushed his fingers against hers, butterflies filling his stomach at the contact. He loved Emma so much, and his love had only seemed to grow over the past couple of weeks. More than anything, he longed to tell her, but he held back. He held back a lot of things, including a piece of his heart as Biddy had said. She was right, and he knew it. But he just wasn't ready.

Then again, would he ever be ready?

"What did those girls say to you?" she asked suddenly, and he moved his hand away from hers at the reminder that he was an unwanted, blind dance partner.

He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Ivy had wanted to dance with him. That meant something.

With a shrug, he answered, "Nothing you need to concern yourself with." He cringed at his answer, now seeing how not sharing his burdens with Emma was likely to push her away. Biddy was right. Biddy was absolutely right. How long had he been doing this? How long, exactly, had he been pushing Emma away? "Can I change my answer?"

"I don't know, Finbarr. Can you?"

Emma did not sound happy with him, and he didn't blame her. He needed to stop pushing her away. If he wanted her to choose him, he needed to be honest.

"I was looking for a dance partner, and I unknowingly asked the trio. They laughed at me for being blind. It was my own fault."

"That is not your fault," she seethed. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind."

She started to stomp away, but he caught onto her arm, lifting her hand as he forced her to skip forward as their portion of the dance began again.

"Please don't, Emma. I love that you want to stick up for me, but I can't take anymore tonight. It's been a difficult day." He felt the pain in his eyes as a reminder of just how difficult it had been. It wasn't easy to work in the fields when his eyes started to ache much earlier than usual when he worked harder as the end of harvest neared.

Their conversation paused as they spun around each other in a circle. When they were still enough, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"At a barn raising?" He smiled and squeezed her hand, lowering his voice. "Perhaps another time, Emma. I'm not the only one who is desperately seeking out your attention."

"Desperately?" she teased.

"Yes," he answered seriously. "If I ever lost you, Emma. I would be heartbroken."

Her breath hitched as if she was surprised by his answer, but neither of them got to speak again because when he took his partner's hands, they were once again Ivy's. Had Emma switched them this time? Did she not want to dance with him anymore? Had he been too forward and too honest? He was trying to share more of his heart with her, but he was unpracticed. He wasn't sure if he was doing it right.

The dance ended, and Ivy gave him a hug that brought the smile back to his face. He lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "You switched us?"

Ivy hugged him tighter. "I simply figured that Aiden would likely be more jealous if I danced with Peter than if I danced with you."

"I won't even pretend that I begin to understand," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head in a brotherly way. "Thank you for asking me to dance. Though, it seems I am better suited to sitting still and playing the penny whistle."

"But you were a fantastic dancer, Finbarr. And like I promised, I didn't let you bump into anyone."

"No, you didn't. Where is Aiden now?"

"He's at the dessert table."

He held an arm out to her, giving her a conspiratory grin. "Your night of trying to make a certain somebody notice you isn't over. Shall we?"

She giggled and took his arm. "We shall."