“Mere details,” her uncle sputtered.
“It’s not a mere detail to me, when I’m the one who’d have to do the so-called work,” she spat out. Taking a deep breath, she said in a calmer voice, “You know better than to approach me. Why today?”
“I had hoped you had come to your senses. I can see I was mistaken!” Her uncle stormed away, muttering to himself about incalcitrant women.
Declan stood beside her a few long moments. “Shall I escort you home? Or is there somewhere else you’d rather go?”
“Home,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
After a few steps, he broke the tense silence. “Is he really your uncle?”
“I’m afraid so,” she whispered. “And he’s determined to have me or Winnie work for Mr. Bell. I think he owes Mr. Bell money.”
Frowning, Declan said, “So you’re to be used to pay off his debts?” At her nod, he growled his displeasure. “That’s barbaric and cruel.”
“Life is barbaric and cruel for most women. And rarely fair,” she said, as she walked up the back steps to the O’Rourkes’ kitchen. “Thank you for helping me. I would have escaped him, but it’s always best for him to realize an O’Rourke is nearby.”
Declan watched her slip inside his big family home, his mind filled with questions.
Chapter 4
That evening, at the knock at the front door, Lorena walked to answer it with a perturbed expression, flinging it open. “You know no one uses the front door,” she snapped to the man standing there. “Everyone comes to the kitchen door.” She pursed her lips, as she stared at the wiry gentleman with inquisitive brown eyes, whose gaze seemed to freeze her in place.
“I’ll keep that in mind, missy,” he said with a deferential smile that was mocking at the same time. “I was invited for supper by the man of the house himself. I’m hoping Mr. O’Rourke doesn’t mind that I’ve accepted his invitation tonight.”
Lorena flushed. “I beg your pardon,” she stammered. “I … I’m not generally so … so …”
“Rude?” asked the man, as he hitched a finger through the suspenders covering his red-and-black-checkered flannel. “I ain’t offended. My Bessie always takes offense at somethin’ I say at some point durin’ the day. Keeps things lively.” He winked at her. “I’m A. J. Pickens. Call me A.J.”
“I’m Miss Mortimer,” she murmured, as she motioned for him to enter.
“Ah, a lovely woman like you must be promised to one of Seamus’s fine young sons.” He watched her curiously, as she flushed as bright as a tomato. “Seems I’m mistaken. Well, you never know what will come about.” He winked at her again, before following her through the living room to the kitchen.
“Mr. A.J. is here,” Lorena said, as she entered, before scampering to her chair to observe rather than participate.
She watched as Seamus jumped up and clapped the man on his shoulder, as though he were a long-lost friend. After hearing the word “captain” bandied about, Lorena realized this was the captain who had manned the ship that brought Declan home—and a large supply of O’Rourke goods. She watched as Mr. A.J. charmed everyone present.
“I hope you like the meal I’ve prepared,” Mary said.
“Oh, I ain’t particular, missus,” A.J. said, as he beamed at Mary. “I have to admit that I’ve been most desirous to make your acquaintance. The tale of your reunion with your husband is reaching epic status.” He paused a moment. “Like that tale by that foreign man from many years ago that my Bessie goes on an’ on about.”
“Homer,” Lorena murmured, flushing as everyone focused on her a moment.
“That’s it. Homer. When I told my Bessie your tale, she sighed and said it reminded her of the Audacity, about that man comin’ home and savin’ his wife, after so many years away.” He beamed at everyone, as he saw them biting their lips. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”
“I believe it’s the Odyssey, sir,” Lorena said.
“That’s it! You’re as smart as my Bessie,” A.J. said, showing no embarrassment about misspeaking. “I find those big words a bother, and I rather like the ones I make up.” He winked at Mary and Maggie, before sending another wink in Lorena’s direction. “Find it keeps folks on their toes, as some can be mighty tense these days, now the War’s over. You’d think they’d relax some.” He shook his head and took an appreciative sniff. “Whoowee, sure smells like heaven in here. You’re a lucky man, Seamus.”
Seamus chuckled and propelled A.J. to a seat near his. “Aye, I am. We’re fortunate we have food every day. But we’re most fortunate that we’re all together again, as we always should have been. A few of the lads are married, so they’re not here every night. But we have a large family dinner at least once a week. And, for that, I’m grateful.”
Lorena noted that Mr. A.J. sat in a chair that allowed him to face her, as he chatted with Seamus. Although he focused on the conversation with the eldest O’Rourke, and whatever he said made Seamus laugh frequently, the steamboat captain never ignored her.
After they had eaten supper, A.J. held out his hands for Gavin, murmuring, “There’s my lad. I’ve missed you.” He kissed the boy on his head and held him so Gavin could look out at the table, pounding his fists on the wood and playing with a spoon, as A.J. continued to speak with those around him.
“Missy, are you the schoolteacher in town?” he asked Lorena, as he pushed away his plate and all the silverware, except the spoon, so Gavin had room to play and yet to not cause any mischief.
“No, sir,” Lorena said with a flush. “I help out where I’m needed. During the busy season, I wash dishes for Deirdre at the café.”
“Wash dishes?” A.J. said, as he ran a hand down Gavin’s back in an unconscious caress. “That don’t sound like a good job for such an intelligent woman.” He looked to Seamus. “No insult intended, O’Rourke, but you’re wastin’ her talents.”
Seamus nodded, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I know. We’ll figure something out.” He shook his head, indicating A.J. needed to drop the topic.
With a humph of disapproval, A.J. handed Gavin back to Declan. “Sonny’s as smart too. Heard him goin’ on an’ on about topics that would bore any normal person, as he talked to his boy.”
Declan laughed, as he held Gavin high for a moment, earning a squeal of delight from his son. “There’s a lot of time to kill on a boat, A.J., and Gavin’s a good listener.”
“Aye, ’cause he won’t talk back to ye,” A.J. muttered with a shake of his head. Lorena noted him casting a furtive glance in her direction. However, his attention was diverted when Mary placed before him a bowl of rhubarb crumble with cream on top. “Oh my,” he murmured, as he patted his stomach. “I said I’d make the one trip up the Misery, but I might just brave a trip next year to see all of you again.” He smiled at Mary and Maggie. “An’ eat your fine food.”
“If you like this, you’ll be in heaven at what our Deirdre cooks,” Mary said, as she rested her hand on Seamus’s shoulder.
“It’s not the Misery, sir. It’s the Missouri,” said Bryan, the youngest O’Rourke sibling at twelve, with a frown.
“Ha, that’s what you think, boy!” A.J. said with a gleeful smile. “Indian attacks, sandbars that move from day to day, logs big enough to destroy a steamboat. Those ain’t normal on a river this size. The Miss sure don’t act like this.” He shook his head, as the younger lads stared at him in wonder. He addressed Bryan. “Someday I’ll have you be my cocaptain, an’ you can see why it’s the Misery.”
“Did you hear that, Da?” Bryan exclaimed. “I’ll be his cocaptain.”
Seamus shrugged. “Aye, someday, lad. Someday.” He shared a long look with A.J., who smiled with chagrin at filling one of the boys’ minds with elusive goals. “’Tis better to dream than to live a resigned life.”
“Aye,” A.J. said, looking at Lorena. “Hear that, missy?” he called out. “Dream. Life’s too short for resignation. Especially in a woman so young and pretty and smart.”
Lorena duck
ed her head, blushing beet red this time, as she focused on the bowl of dessert in front of her. When the conversation continued around her, she sighed with relief. Glancing up, she saw Declan staring at her, and she met his intense gaze. For a brief moment, she wished she believed what Mr. A.J. said. However, she knew she deserved nothing more in her life. After her betrayal, she deserved nothing at all.
* * *
Lorena readied for bed that evening, praying she could slip beneath the sheets before Winnifred entered and found her awake. More often than not, Lorena acted as though she were asleep to ignore Winnifred’s incessant prattle. Thankfully her sister’s chatter faded away when she realized she didn’t have an audience.
The door eased open, and Lorena swallowed a groan, while her youngest sister gave a chirp of satisfaction to find her awake. “Oh, finally!” Winnifred said, as she twirled into the room. “It seems you’ve fallen asleep earlier and earlier each evening. And I have the most delicious news to impart.”
Lorena crawled under the sheet, her gaze filled with trepidation, as she knew her sister was never generous in her comments. “What would that be?”
Winnifred sat on her bed, slowly stroking a brush through her long, lush black hair. She sat so her curves were on their best display. Although Lorena found her sister’s preening embarrassing, she knew Winnifred clung to every lesson their mama had taught them. “Uncle has found me the most wonderful man. Uncle believes he’ll be a successful man in the Territory.”
“Uncle?” Lorena asked, as she sat up, the sheet falling about her waist, and any attempt at playacting oncoming sleep was forgotten. “Why are you spending any time with that wretched man?”
Winnifred rolled her eyes at her eldest sister. “You are no fun anymore, Lo. Ever since the O’Rourkes took us in, you’re far too serious. And since you made that devil’s bargain with the eldest O’Rourke …” She shuddered. “I’d hate to be so beholden to him.”
“I’m not beholden to him. He’s been very supportive and kind.” Lorena bit her tongue, rather than say anything more, for she knew Winnifred would spread her words about town without thought to the harm she could do.
“Supportive. Kind.” She stared at her sister with a feigned guilelessness. “Hmm, it sounds as though you have another benefactor.”
Flushing bright red, Lorena hissed, “I never had a benefactor. If you have one now, then you’re a fool.”
“Of course you had a benefactor. What else was Josiah?”
Lorena paled at the mention of Josiah. No one ever spoke his name. Not since he’d died, taking her heart and her hope with him. “You don’t know what you say, Winnie. Let it be.”
Winnifred gave a humph of disgust and threw herself onto her bed. “Why should I? Mama always said he was never good enough for you, and he wasn’t. Stupid enough to join the War and get killed.” She stared at the ceiling, muttering to herself.
Lorena froze, trapped in a maelstrom of memories. Her first kiss. The realization Josiah cared for her too. The fear and terror when she realized he’d leave her. The weeks of hoping he’d return. The letter. Always the letter. She let out a stuttering breath, digging her fingernails into her palms to force herself back to the present. “Leave well enough alone, Winnie,” she rasped.
Propping herself up on one elbow, as she stared at her sister while laying on her side, Winnifred watched her with abject curiosity. “You know that Mr. Pickens sure was taken with you tonight. But it seems he has a wife.” She gave a negligent shrug. “But you know most men aren’t devoted to their wives, especially when they’re so far away.”
“How can you be so callous?” Lorena asked. Under her breath, she whispered, “How are you my sister?”
“I’m not callous,” Winnifred protested. “I’m realistic. One of the Mortimer sisters needs to be. You’re wasting your time, energy, and meager funds on an idiotic business venture. Phoebe’s wasting her life as a wife. It seems I’m the one who must be the success in the family.”
Staring at her youngest sister, Lorena frowned. She knew Winnifred would never imagine herself content with a traditional life, but Lorena suspected that was exactly what she needed. A husband who would prove his loyalty and his love, day in and day out. Just as Eamon had done for Phoebe. “I fear you’re wrong,” she murmured. “Only time will tell. And I hope that, by the time you figure out what you genuinely want, you haven’t destroyed your true chance at happiness.”
Lorena rolled onto her side, facing away from her sister, her last words rolling around in her head. For too long, she had believed those words about herself. That she had already ruined her one true chance at happiness. As the house settled and sleep beckoned, she allowed herself to wonder if that was true. Of if she’d allowed fear to dictate her dreams.
* * *
Seamus rested in bed, his gaze never wavering from the door, as he awaited his beloved Mary’s arrival. Although she had seemed delighted by their surprise guest this evening, he knew A.J.’s presence had meant more work for her and Maggie. When the door creaked open, he gave a sigh of relief. “Ah, love, you’re finally here,” he murmured.
She flashed a delighted smile, as she shut the door behind her and began her nightly ritual of preparing for bed. Seamus never tired of watching her taking down her hair or slipping her earbobs free of her ears. “Come,” he murmured, holding out his hand for the brush. “Let me care for you, after you were so gracious to our guest.”
She sighed with pleasure, as she sat on the bed with him kneeling behind her, his strong, nimble hands working through her hair. “’Twas no fuss, Shay.” She winked at him. “Besides, the younger lads helped with cleanup. Bryan will give you a run for your money with the stories he will tell.” She returned to the topic of their guest. “A.J.’s a delightful man. ’Twill be a sorry day when he sails away.”
Seamus kissed the side of her neck, smiling when she gave another sigh of pleasure. “Aye, ’twill. He claims he’s only to man a steamboat the one time to Fort Benton. I’m to use the time he’s docked here to convince him to return next year. From what little Declan’s told me, he’s a fine captain. I believe he’ll be a good friend.”
“Do you think he sees more than the rest of us?” she asked, as she bowed her head forward when he began to massage and knead the muscles of her neck and shoulders. “He took a keen interest in Declan and Lorena.”
Seamus stilled his ministrations a moment and then gave a grunt. “’Twould make sense, love, but can you see either of them trusting in love again?”
Mary’s shoulders sagged. “No,” she whispered mournfully. “I hate we weren’t there for Declan, Shay. That he had to suffer alone.”
“Aye,” Seamus said. “But he’s a man now, love. And we must allow him to handle this. He’ll find his way through this too.” He kissed her again, before speaking in a hesitant voice. “Do you … do you adore wee Gavin?”
She spun to face him, her auburn and gray hair tumbling over one shoulder, as her hazel eyes flashed with confusion. “Adore him? Nay.” She cupped her husband’s cheek. “I love him. He’s my grandson.” She waited a moment. “All that matters is Declan’s claimed him, Shay.”
Seamus tugged her into his arms, rocking her from side to side. “Aye, a ghrá, that’s all that matters. Thank you, my love, for always having the most generous heart.”
* * *
“Da,” Declan said, as he entered his father’s warehouse office. “Do you have a moment?” He knew that was a rhetorical question, as his da would always make time for any of his children, no matter what task he was doing. Declan smiled. Unless Da was with Mum. Then his da would tell them to wait their turn.
“Aye, of course, Declan. We haven’t had a chance to visit enough since your return.” Seamus set aside a mound of papers in front of him and focused on his son.
Although only a few years had passed, Declan was still surprised to find more gray in his da’s hair. More set-in wrinkles, especially around his eyes and mouth. However, the cla
rity and intelligence in his gaze had not diminished.
“What’s bothering you, lad?”
Declan flushed and then shrugged. There had been little he couldn’t discuss with his da. “I worry Lorena Mortimer is playing us false.” He frowned when Seamus burst out laughing.
“Oh, Declan, how I’ve missed you,” Seamus said, as he marshaled control. “You should worry about Winnifred, not Lorena.” He nodded when he saw Declan staring at him in confusion. “Aye, Winnifred’s been absent from supper of late. She’s the Mortimer sister who’ll bring trouble to the O’Rourkes. And, I fear, to Finn.”
“Finn?” Declan breathed. “He’s too sensible to … to …”
“To fall in love?” Seamus asked softly. “Nay, he’s not. And nor are you.” He paused as he waited for Declan to speak. When his son remained quiet, Seamus murmured, “You’re too young to be so cynical. And far too young to believe you’ll never love again.”
“I didn’t love,” he said in a bitter tone. “I was played like the finest fiddle. I was a fool, an’ I paid the price.”
Seamus stared at him a long moment, an assessing glance that had always made Declan squirm in the past. This time Declan sat still, meeting his da’s stare. “Is raising another man’s child your penance?”
Heaving out a breath, Declan’s shoulders stooped, as he lowered his head down to balance on the desktop. “How did you know?”
“From what Finn and Eamon told me, if he were your son, he should be a mite smaller. He shouldn’t be nearly Cillian’s size.” He paused. “And he looks nothin’ like an O’Rourke. Or like Mary’s people.”
Declan raised his head, his eyes gleaming with fierce loyalty and love. “He’s mine, Da. Whoever his parents are, he’s mine.”
Seamus remained silent a long moment, staring into his son’s eyes. Finally he smiled. “Aye, an’ I’m glad of it. He’s a fine lad, and I’m proud to call him my grandson.”
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 4
