“I wonder how long until they give in to the inevitable,” Declan whispered in her ear.
She smiled up at him, shrugging. “Something or someone might have to give them a push. They seem to enjoy their dance.”
“Ah, but what they haven’t figured out, or he hasn’t been smart enough to convince wee Maggie of yet, is that the dance doesn’t end when you marry a fine woman.” Declan’s blue eyes shone with sincerity as he stared at her.
“Declan,” she breathed, her hand clasping his under the table.
Eamon cleared his throat, as Phoebe blushed. “Ah, I have an announcement to make, an’ we cannot wait any longer to share the news with you.” He grinned when Maggie squealed with excitement as she squirmed in her seat, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Eamon nodded. “Yes, Phoebe and I are expecting our first child.”
Lorena watched as Maggie gave a yelp of joy and as Mary rushed to the table to embrace each of them. Soon everyone had encircled the couple, talking, laughing, and exulting at the news. The outpouring of love and support was as expected from the O’Rourkes, as they didn’t know any other way to show their love. However, Lorena watched in wonder at the outpouring of affection for Phoebe.
Finally they settled in for breakfast again. Lorena fought a giggle as she watched Maggie cast covetous eyes in Dunmore’s direction. Lorena’s giggle turned to a stifled moan when Winnifred entered the kitchen, a satisfied gleam in her gaze.
As Winnifred’s grating voice called out, “Oh, look at all the happy couples,” interrupting the peaceful chatter, Lorena froze. “Oh no.”
“Everything will be fine,” Declan soothed.
“You don’t understand,” Lorena said in a pleading voice. “Believe in me, not her.” She spun to face her sister, as Winnifred continued to talk.
“I can’t believe another O’Rourke has been taken in by a Mortimer sister. But then I suppose gullibility is the most predominant O’Rourke trait.” Winnifred smiled with insincere friendliness to everyone seated around the table, ignoring Seamus’s threatening glower and the blatant disgust in Mary’s gaze. “Although I am surprised that one who claims to adore his son with such a desperate fervency would deign to align himself with a woman who abandoned her child without a second thought.”
“Winnie,” Lorena begged, her eyes rounded, her breath leaving her in a whoosh as though she had just been punched. “No, please no.”
Taking no notice of her sister’s panic, Winnifred continued in a singsong voice. “I’d hate to think what could happen to that poor boy. Lo’s never been known for her constancy.”
Lorena stared dazedly at the family seated around the table, seeing condemnation, confusion, and contempt. She looked to Phoebe, blanching when her sister stared at her as though she were a stranger. Finally she looked at Declan, any color leeching away as he stared at her with no warmth or understanding. “I … I’m sorry,” she gasped, wrenching her hand from Declan’s and racing away.
She barreled down the steps and headed to the café. As she neared the rear door, she paused, gasping for breath. She prayed she’d hear footsteps racing after her, Declan’s voice calling out to her. Instead all she heard were the common sounds from the town. Nothing more.
She paused in her flight away from the O’Rourke house, as she realized she was returning to another O’Rourke home. Her chest heaved from the emotional blow rendered by her sister and the emotional devastation due to Declan letting her go. She glanced around, hating that she felt aimless and homeless at the same time, when recently she had felt full of purpose and hope. Rather than return to the room she had shared with Declan, in his brother’s home, she spun away, determined to find another place of refuge.
Chapter 12
“Declan, sit,” Seamus commanded. “And you,” he snapped, as he pointed his finger at Winnifred, “cease your mindless prattle about matters that don’t concern you. You might believe you understand what your sister suffered, but I can assure you that we never understand another’s misery.”
“Suffering?” Winnifred scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Good riddance, I say. Who’d want to be saddled with a brat?”
Mary gasped, lurching to her feet, and, before anyone understood her intent, she slapped Winnifred across the cheek. “I’ve had enough of you,” she said in a low voice, all the more potent for its restrained tone. “I’ve had enough of you sowing your discontent, your doubt, and your spite among those I love. You are no O’Rourke, and you are not welcome among us.”
“What?” Winnifred gasped. “How can you punish me for exposing the truth? I was protecting your son.”
Seamus slammed his hand down on the table and rose. The room went deathly quiet, as everyone waited to see what he would do. “Nay, lass, you were spouting your truth. Your venom.” He stood beside Mary, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And I’ll always support my Mary’s decisions. You’ve never treated your sisters, or my Mary and my Maggie, with anything but contempt. You have no place with us.”
“Aren’t you always proclaiming you won’t be alone? That you’ll always have someone to look out for you?” Declan motioned to the door. “Now’s your time to prove that belief true.”
Winnifred gaped at the family, her gaze finally falling on Finn, who sat with a clenched jaw and flashing blue eyes filled with pain and disappointment. With a show of bravado, Winnifred tilted her chin up and smiled. “I’ve never needed any of you. Only a fool turns her back on free lodging and meals.” She stomped away to her room, Maggie on her heels.
“Miss Maggie?” Dunmore asked, as she was about to slip from the room.
Maggie smiled at him and then her family in general. “I’m fine. I want to ensure she doesn’t try to take anything that’s not hers.” She winked at them, before heading upstairs.
Seamus let out a deep breath and focused on his son. “Declan, you must find your bride. And reassure her that Winnifred will not be here to harm her again.”
Mary stepped forward to grip his arm. “We chose Lorena.”
Declan nodded. “Aye,” he whispered, thankful when he heard the soft chatter resume, as his siblings and sisters-in-law began to eat breakfast again. “The last thing she said to me was to have faith in her. I fear she believes I didn’t because I didn’t leap to her defense. And I didn’t chase after her.”
Seamus scratched at his head. “Aye, she might. But we had to clean house, and you needed to be present. Winnifred has to understand you would defend your wife.”
“You were in agreement with us,” Mary said.
Declan nodded. “Thanks, Mum. Da.” He spun on his heel, slipping from the room.
Seamus sighed, wrapping his arms around Mary, as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I fear I made a mistake preventing Declan from racing after her. Her fears will only become more entrenched.”
Mary made a soothing noise, as she kissed his cheek. “Then ’twill only be all the sweeter when she lets them go.”
Seamus kissed her forehead. “Aye,” he murmured, as he watched Dunmore leave, and he lost his opportunity to speak with the stagecoach driver about the risk facing Maggie. He made a silent promise he would have a family meeting the next time Dunmore was in town.
* * *
Lorena stood near the levee, watching men load steamboats for the return trip to Saint Louis. She fought a yearning to have the money to purchase a return ticket. To sail away and to leave this heartache behind. She rubbed at her chest, acknowledging that she would carry this pain with her, no matter how far away she ran.
“I see you’ve come to realize your mistake,” her uncle called out, as he approached. Today he wore a tan suit with a peacock-blue waistcoat.
She closed her eyes a moment at the sound of his voice, only opening them when she sensed him standing in front of her. “I’ve made no mistake. I merely desired fresh air.”
“When O’Rourkes want peace and quiet, they go to that stream.” He pointed in the direction away from town. He shook his head, as
he stared at her with cunning intensity. “No, you want to escape.” He leaned forward with an avaricious smile. “Don’t you realize I can still offer you just what you want?”
Lorena took a step away from him, her shoulders back, as she faced him and attempted to mimic Maggie’s bravery. “I already have what I want.”
He snorted out a laugh, rolling his eyes, as he hitched his hands into the suspenders keeping his pants up. “If you had what you wanted, you’d be in your husband’s bed right now, and he wouldn’t be disgusted by you.”
Lorena paled, as her eyes rounded in shock. “How … ?”
“At least one member of your family understands the meaning of loyalty.” He took a step toward her. “Cease your foolishness, and join me. You’ll have your money soon enough to do what you want.”
Shaking her head, over and over again, Lorena stuttered out, “No, no, no.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’ll never join you. I’ll never be what you want me to be.”
He growled as he reached for her. “Don’t you see you already are? Undesired by your husband? Abandoned days after the wedding?” He shook his head, his eyes gleaming with pity. “You’re pathetic.” He looked around, smiling with feigned amity and innocence. “Where are the vaunted O’Rourkes now? They don’t seem so eager to protect you.”
“I won’t go with you. I won’t do what you want,” she whispered.
“Missus!” a familiar voice called out, a moment before he gripped her arm and kept her from taking an involuntary step toward her uncle. “Sure is nice to see such a beautiful woman out on such a fine mornin’.” A.J. stared from Lorena to her uncle with a guileless gaze.
“Leave us,” Uriah snapped. “This is a family matter, and you have no business interrupting us.”
“Family?” A.J. asked with a quirk of his brow, his hold on Lorena tightening and his muscles quivering, as though expecting a fight. “Well, if you was family, you’d have been at the weddin’. Seein’ as you wasn’t there, I’m more family than you. Good day to you, Urea.”
A giggle burst forth from Lorena at A.J.’s name for her uncle, and he winked at her as he led her away from the levee and her uncle and farther down the riverfront. “He ain’t so scary when ye realize he’s nothing more than a man filled with too much of a bad thing.” He winked at her. “Now come tell Uncle A.J. what’s taken away your bloom.”
She rested her head against his shoulder, sighing as she looked out at the river. The constancy of the river should bring her solace. Instead it made her feel a restlessness. As though she wished she could be in motion too. “I made a mistake. Mistakes. And I’ll never stop paying for them.”
“Ah, missus, we all make mistakes. Sometimes we learn from them. Sometimes we regret them until the day we die. But we have to overcome them, so they don’t overcome us.” He had shifted so he could stare into her eyes, his countenance uncharacteristically serious. “Nothin’ that we’ve done is unpardonable.”
Shaking her head, she said, “You can say that because you don’t know what I’ve done.”
He heaved out a deep breath, clamping his jaw together, as though his mouth gripped a pipe. After a long moment, he murmured, “I’d bet it had somethin’ to do with a child.”
Her cheeks lost whatever color she had regained after leaving her uncle’s company, while gaping at A.J. in dawning horror. “How? Why?” She wrenched her arm free of his and took a stumbling step backward. “Is that all you men do? Gossip?”
A.J. shook his head and sighed. “No, missus. We don’t. We chatter on about unimportant topics. You womenfolk talk about the essential things.”
She stared at him quizzically. “Unimportant?”
He waved his hand around and stared at her in all seriousness. “Listen to me well, missus. I know what it is to suffer the pain of a baby lost before they were little more than a dream. The pain of wishin’ for somethin’ that’s never comin’.” He nodded as he met her sorrow-filled gaze. “My Bessie an’ me can’t have little ’uns. It’s the sorry truth.”
He paused a long moment, waiting for her to speak. When she remained silent, he took in a breath, his brown eyes gleaming with his fervency. “Standin’ here, right now, you have a choice. You can either cling to your pain or let it go. You can’t have the sorrow of your past as yer bedfellow each night, while tryin’ to woo a husband. Makes for a crowded bed.”
Unheeded, a tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Mr. A.J.” She attempted a smile, as he looked at her in a perplexed manner. “So sorry for what you suffered.” She held a hand to her chest. “There is no worse pain.”
A.J. sighed, nodding a few times, before shaking his head. “Ah, ye’re right an’ wrong, missus. The pain is fierce an’ near eats you up inside. But it was worse seein’ how my Bessie suffered.” He shook his head. “No worse anguish than that. And there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do to make her smile.”
Lorena’s breath stuttered, as she whispered, “The difference is, you had no choice over what happened to your baby.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. “Havin’ spent time with your sisters, I’d bet all the money I’ll make as a captain this year that you had as little choice about losin’ your babe as my Bessie did. Too often circumstances are out of our control.”
Lorena gazed at him mournfully. “I’ve never forgiven myself.”
Nodding, A.J. sighed. “Well, you have to, missus. Lookin’ to your husband for absalvation won’t bring you peace.”
“Absalvation?” Lorena whispered, her brows furrowed, as she focused on a problem other than her past or her present troubles with Declan. “Absolution or salvation?”
He beamed at her. “I knew the smartest lady in town could figure out my words.” He winked at her and winged out his arm. “Come. Let me escort you back to the café. You’ve let your husband fret long enough.” He shook his head when she began to protest. “And he’s frettin’, missus, so don’t argue with me.”
Lorena walked beside the man who acted like a benevolent uncle, feeling lighter in spirit than she had in years. Although she remained filled with trepidation at the thought of facing Declan, she knew he had earned the right to hear the truth from her.
* * *
Deirdre’s kitchen was a beehive of activity as Declan poked his head in. She moved with effortless grace from the stove to the table to mix batter for a cake to the oven, where she checked on cooking rolls. He sniffed appreciatively, as nothing ever smelled as good as Deirdre’s kitchen. Not even his mum’s kitchen, although he would never admit that.
He nodded to two of his youngest brothers, who had been charged with washing dishes, forcing a smile as he saw Bryan and Henri whispering to each other as they scrubbed pans and rinsed them dry. “Lads,” he said, his smile broadening as they flushed at his appearance.
“She’s not here!” Bryan called out. He had a youthful vivacity about him and retained an optimistic joyful outlook about each day, as though looking forward to every adventure to come his way. Declan found himself envious of Bryan’s naiveté and secretly hoped his brother never experienced heartache. He dreaded the day Bryan ever had a cynical glint in his green eyes.
“Thanks, Bryan,” he said. “I suppose you’re in the middle of the breakfast rush,” he said to Deirdre, ignoring his two brothers, who began whispering to each other again. He attempted to match her smile but understood he failed when he saw concern bloom in her beautiful gaze.
Although his eldest brother Ardan had been married to Deirdre for nearly two years, Declan barely knew her, as he’d been away the entire time. He studied her a moment. A beautiful woman with red-gold hair, dusted with flour, and cognac-colored eyes that Declan feared saw too much and gave little away, Declan realized she was the perfect woman for his brother. Her competence and quiet confidence were a match for his serious eldest brother.
He hoped the small lines at the corner of her mouth and eyes were due to the laughter she shared with Ardan. For Ardan needed laughter and j
oy in his life.
“Deirdre,” he murmured, with a deferential nod.
“She’ll come back, Declan,” she said in her husky voice. She nodded to the younger brothers, answering his unspoken question about how she knew of the calamitous breakfast. “Never doubt she cares.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, as he sat with a sigh. He half smiled as she set a full plate of food in front of him.
“Food makes everything better.” She smiled at him, although her concern for him lingered in her gaze. “She’s suffered, Declan. I don’t know what, but it’s a deep hurt. Give her time, patience, and understanding.” When he remained silent, she said in a low voice, “Those are gifts I have found O’Rourke men give the women they love. And they are priceless.”
His head jerked up at the word love, but he didn’t contradict her assertion. She squeezed his shoulder, before continuing her work in the kitchen. After wolfing down the delicious breakfast, he strummed his fingers on the table, as he waited for Ardan. Although he wished Ardan would stop chattering away with the customers, Declan knew that was an important part of his role, and he knew Ardan enjoyed it.
Declan battled his mounting impatience for the busy morning rush at the café to finish, so that Ardan could help him search for Lorena. He turned to the back door when it opened, then bolted to his feet, racing to it. “Lo!” He reached out to pull her into his embrace, his arms hanging in the air beside her, as he froze at the last second, uncertain she wanted him to touch her.
“Declan,” she whispered, taking the final step so she rested against him. At her soft sigh of relief when his arms clasped her gently to him, he let out a groan of relief.
“Don’t do that to me again, Lo,” he pleaded in her ear, his breath tickling her sensitive skin and blowing on the fine hair of her nape. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 14
