by Regina Scott
Instead, the man had given him several leads on possible jobs as well as permission to use him as a reference. It was clear to Michael the clever entrepreneur had his hand in a dozen enterprises all over town. Very likely he’d be well respected by the other local business owners, several of whom it seemed owed him their start here. Surely his support would go a long way toward convincing an employer to hire Michael.
As Gillian returned to the spinet, Allegra settled herself next to her husband and laid a hand on his arm, purple skirts reflecting the light from the fire. “Clay, I was telling Maddie about the troubles your businesses have been having, and she said the bakery has been plagued too.”
Clay frowned, glance going to Maddie first, and then to Michael. Michael stood up straighter under it.
“That makes the fourth, then,” Clay said as Gillian’s music rose from the other side of the room. “I’ve had reports from Butler’s stamp mill, Disney’s newspaper and Aherne’s tailor shop as well, but I can’t see the pattern. None of my other shops have been harmed, so the troublemaker isn’t lashing out at me.”
Michael frowned. Why would the Howards expect someone to target them?
As if she’d seen his look, Maddie nodded to him. “Allegra and Clay had trouble from their relatives on the way out,” she explained. “The scoundrels threatened to take Gillian away.”
Clay glanced to where the little girl was running her chubby fingers up and down the keys, golden-haired head cocked as if she listened to every note with approval.
“That’s been settled,” Clay said, and by the firm tone of his voice, Michael was sure the matter had been finished to the businessman’s satisfaction. “It’s not the Howard family troubling us this time. And it can’t be something between the owners. They never met before they came to Seattle. The buildings are in different parts of town, of different types, with different clientele.”
“You said the owners’ names were Butler, Disney and Aherne,” Michael put in, feeling as if the room had chilled. “That’s a pattern, all right. They’re all Irish.”
Maddie paled even as Clay stiffened.
“But what would anyone have against the Irish here?” Allegra asked, glancing around at them all.
At the spinet, Gillian hit a wrong chord, the sound as jarring as Michael’s assumption.
“There was prejudice aplenty in New York,” Maddie told her. “Why should we be surprised it followed us here?” She wrapped one arm about the waist of her green gingham gown, and Michael had to force his hands to his sides to keep from putting his own arm around her shoulders.
“Because it’s Washington Territory,” Allegra said. Michael had thought her the calm and cool lady of the house with her black hair and midnight-blue eyes. Now those eyes snapped fire. “People came here to escape such nonsense,” she insisted, “not perpetuate it.”
“That’s true enough, Allie,” Clay said. “But just in case Mr. Haggerty has the right of it, I’ll tell all my partners to remain alert.” He looked to Michael. “I assume you’ve talked with Sheriff Wyckoff.”
“Deputy McCormick is aware of the problem,” Michael assured him.
Clay nodded as if confident in the lawman’s ability to solve the problem, but Michael couldn’t feel so certain. It was quite possible the trouble could escalate, especially if the Dead Rabbits were behind it.
Talk turned to other things then, polite, civilized. But Michael couldn’t help wondering what lay beyond the golden light of the house on the hill. Were there really men in Seattle intent on harming all those who claimed any allegiance to Ireland? Or was he letting his own fears get the better of him?
Before they left, Maddie took Clay aside. She pressed the money into her benefactor’s hand, and Michael saw the man smile at her with obvious pride. He felt his own chest swelling with pride for her as well.
“She’s the most hardworking, caring person I’ve ever met,” Allegra volunteered as she stood beside Michael.
“You won’t get an argument from me,” Michael replied. “She rises in the middle of the night to start work and doesn’t stop until after sundown, all so her brother and sister will have a better life than she had.”
“And all without asking for help,” Allegra told him. “I’m not sure what made her decide to approach Clay for a loan, but I’m pleased she trusted us to that extent.” She smiled at Michael. “Everyone loves her baking.”
“Everyone loves her,” Michael answered with a chuckle. “She has a loyal following.”
“And yet she has never introduced me to a gentleman or invited him to our home,” Allegra informed him. “I suspect you are special to her, Mr. Haggerty.”
Michael shook his head. “If I am it’s only because I can help her with Ciara and Aiden.”
“I think you are too humble, sir,” she said. “But I am glad we agree that Maddie is a dear. She deserves a gentleman who appreciates that.”
Though her tone remained kind, Michael could hear the iron under the words. Allegra cared enough for her friend to warn him that if he didn’t appreciate her he ought to leave her life before any damage was done.
Maddie returned to their sides then, and she and Michael said their goodbyes and headed back to the bakery.
They’d stayed long enough at the Howards that night had fallen. Allegra had pressed a lantern into Michael’s hand, and now he held it up to light their way. A tart breeze from the Sound brushed his face as he and Maddie walked down the hill. Insects chirped from the forest, and something with wide wings soared across the moon. It was hard to believe violence stirred on so peaceful a night.
Maddie puffed out a breath as if her thoughts were as dark as his. “I’m not liking this idea that the Irish are being chosen for attack,” she said, one hand on Michael’s arm as they negotiated the bumps to cross the skid road. “Allegra’s right. We all came here to get away from such things.”
“At least you and I did,” Michael agreed as they reached the other side. “Some may have brought their prejudices with them.”
As if to prove as much, raucous laughter echoed from one of the buildings near the mill.
Maddie hastened around the corner onto Washington Street. “You may be right,” she murmured. “And though I told you I had no need for help, I was glad you were there tonight, Michael.”
Something inside him warmed at her words. It seemed like a long time since he’d felt truly useful.
They turned onto Second Avenue, and he took her arm to help her step up onto the boardwalk. They reached the door of the bakery, putting out a hand for the latch at the same time, fingers brushing. Michael clutched her hand and held it a moment, unwilling to part.
“You should be proud of yourself, Maddie,” he told her. “I’m sure Ciara could have suggested any number of ways to spend that money. Instead, you paid down your debt.”
She gazed up at him, red hair turned pale in the moonlight. “We have that in common, you and I. We don’t allow a debt to stand for long.”
Another moment, and he’d kiss her again. Indeed, the urge to do so was nearly overpowering. Overhead, he heard a penny whistle playing in tune with his heart.
Something flew past them to hit the lantern with a clang. The vibration rattled up Michael’s arm, sending the lantern tumbling. Out snuffed the wick, wrapping them in darkness. Before he could react, he felt Maddie grab his arm and tug him down even as another missile grazed his cheek. The tinkle of breaking glass told him the troublemaker had hit the bakery window.
“Get inside,” Michael told Maddie, reaching up to twist the latch with one hand and push her forward with the other.
She scrambled past him into the bakery, making way for him on the floor beside her, but Michael turned for the street, trying in vain to make out a darker shape among the shadows.
“Who’s there?” he demanded. “You�
��ve no call to be harassing innocent folk.”
In the silence, he thought he heard ragged breathing. A moment later, and feet pounded on the boardwalk across from him, running away.
Michael surged to his feet, ready to give chase, but something caught his pant leg.
“Don’t you be going out there, Michael Haggerty,” Maddie begged. “I’ve already lost three people in my family. I’ll not be losing another.”
* * *
Maddie clung to the rough wool of Michael’s pant leg, feeling as if her breath had disappeared with her courage. Who was out there? Why attack her bakery?
How could she keep Michael safe?
He crouched down beside her, a darker shape in the night. “It’s all right, Maddie,” he said. “Whoever did this is gone. I heard him leave.”
Bunching her skirts in one hand, she let him help her up. Her boot crunched on glass as in the front of the shop.
She nearly grabbed him again as he turned toward the boardwalk. Then she saw him bend to retrieve something. A shiver shook her.
“What was the meaning of that?” she demanded as Michael came inside and closed the door, lantern in one hand. “He could have started a fire, striking the lantern that way. Or hit one of us.”
Michael placed the lantern on the display counter and set about relighting it. As the glow filled the shop, Maddie could see the jagged edge that was all that remained of one of the panes of glass in her window.
She blew out a breath. “And now I’ll have to be fixing that.”
“This only proves that the Irish are being targeted,” he said, lifting the lantern higher. The light glittered off the hunk of granite sitting on the counter. So that’s what the villain had been throwing.
“This proves I’m being targeted,” Maddie corrected him. “And I still say Mr. Terry is a far more likely suspect than some nameless fellow on the outs with anyone Irish. Mr. Terry owns other businesses, you know. Perhaps he’s Clay’s competition in every area.”
“Perhaps,” Michael said, voice doubtful. She glanced his way, then gasped.
“Your cheek!” she cried, hurrying forward.
His fingers flew up to his face even as she converged on him. She cupped his chin and turned him to the light. Below the sweep of black hair an angry red line welled.
“Oh, the villain!” Maddie dropped his chin, hands fisting. “He could have put out your eye!”
Michael shook his head as he lowered his hand. “I was facing away from him, Maddie. The worst he could do was give me this scratch.”
“A scratch, he calls it,” Maddie muttered, snatching the lantern and stalking for the kitchen. He followed her in and watched as she wet a rag and returned to apply it to the red mark.
“You just hold that in place, now,” she told him. “The cold will help the swelling come down.”
His blue gaze twinkled over the rag. “Yes, Dr. O’Rourke.”
Maddie humphed at his teasing, but a thump overhead reminded her of her duty. “I’ll see to Ciara and Aiden. By the sound of it, they were too busy playing to pay any heed to the creature at their door, but I’d like to make sure.”
He nodded. “I’ll put a patch over the glass for now.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a brow and she decided not to fight over the matter.
“Where do you keep the hammer and nails?” he asked.
“I’ve a few nails left from the building of the bakery,” Maddie told him. “Top shelf of the larder. I’ve no hammer, but I make do with my frying pan.”
He laughed and headed for the larder. Amelia Batterby streaked out of his way and zipped up the stairs.
“And a fine watch cat you are,” Maddie called, following her. “Couldn’t you be meowing to warn us?”
Ciara and Aiden hastily righted the chairs as Maddie entered, standing with eyes wide and mouths tight and looking nearly as worried as the cat.
“And just what were you two doing?” Maddie asked, eyes narrowing.
“Testing ourselves,” Aiden said. “In case we get lost in the wilderness.”
“Which I told him would never happen,” Ciara put in with a look to her brother. “You’re not going to catch me in the woods alone.”
Maddie decided the less said the better at the moment. “Michael and I had some trouble coming in. Did you see anyone, hear anything?”
Ciara and Aiden both shook their heads.
“Did they steal the cakes?” Aiden asked, face stricken.
“As far as I know, they didn’t enter the building this time,” Maddie told him. “They were throwing rocks at it instead.”
Ciara rolled her eyes. “How childish.”
“How vindictive,” Maddie countered. “A rock nearly broke the lantern we borrowed from Mr. and Mrs. Howard. Another took out a pane in the window and scratched Michael’s face.”
Now Ciara looked stricken.
“I didn’t see anything,” Aiden said with a look to Ciara, who nodded again.
“I didn’t hear anything either,” she said. “Aiden was playing his feadóg.”
“Not that loud!” he protested.
“No need for concern,” Maddie said. “Michael and I will see to the matter. Go and get ready for bed now, and I’ll hear your prayers.”
Her sister and brother did not argue with her for once.
A short while later, she came back downstairs. Both Ciara and Aiden had asked God to stop the people who were bothering the bakery, her sister going so far as to ask the Lord for a hero, like one of the Dead Rabbits. Maddie still struggled to believe the Lord cared about such things. But He had kept her and Michael safe. Surely that was enough to ask.
She could not deny, however, that she had her own hero for whom to be thankful. Michael had taken a shingle of wood and nailed it in place to cover the hole. He’d also swept the glass from the boardwalk and shop floor, piling the three heavy rocks that had been their attacker’s ammunition in a corner as if for evidence. The scratch on his face had faded from a fiery red to a blushing pink.
“You’re a good man to have about, Mr. Haggerty,” she told him as he leaned the broom into the corner of the kitchen.
He grinned at her. “And you’re a sweet woman to allow me to help, Miss O’Rourke,” he answered.
She didn’t feel sweet. The injustice of the attack was like a coal inside her, burning red and hot. She wanted to lash out, demand answers. But there wasn’t any reason to bother Deputy McCormick at this time of night. She could tell him about the trouble in the morning. For now, she had work to do and so did Michael.
“You best be going,” she said. “I know you have to help Mr. Kellogg tonight.”
“The shelves can wait a while longer,” he assured her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She stalked to her worktable. “I didn’t have a chance to prepare the trough before we left for the Howards. I’ll just sift the flour now before I turn in.”
He eyed her. “You usually go to bed by now.”
Maddie whipped her apron about her and settled it into place. “And I’m usually ready for bed. Right now, I need to be doing. If you’ve a mind to help, join in.”
In answer, he peeled off his coat.
Maddie sent him to the larder for the cask of flour while she pulled out the wooden frame she used for sifting and positioned it over the trough. When they’d been outfitting the building, Clay had been amazed by the size of the wooden box where she would mix her dough. Michael looked nearly as impressed as he returned to her side.
“You pour the flour, I’ll agitate it,” she said.
He hefted the wooden cask into his arms, muscles showing through the fabric of his sleeves. Maddie barely noticed the creamy-colored flour flowing.
“Shouldn’t you be shak
ing that?” Michael asked, gaze amused.
Of course she should! Maddie rattled the wooden knob, and the frame shook back and forth, turning lumps into finer powder. Normally, she had to fill the sifter, then shake out the flour, repeating the process many times before she had enough in the trough. With Michael’s help, they filled the trough in record time.
He returned the half-empty cask to the larder, then retrieved his coat, leaving white fingerprints on the blue fabric. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Maddie reached up and brushed off the marks. His look caught hers, held her captive. She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Michael, for everything.”
Skin turning pinker than his scratch, he nearly fled the room. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought something had scared him.
She knew the feeling. When the rocks had started hitting, her heart had jumped, but she hadn’t feared for herself or the bakery. She’d been afraid something might happen to Michael.
And that fact scared her most of all.
Chapter Sixteen
It was a long night for Michael. After helping at the bakery, he went to Kelloggs’ and finished stacking the latest goods in the right places. He thought maybe the busy work would keep his mind off Maddie, but it seemed as if he felt that kiss against his cheek through the entire evening.
She’d only meant it in thanks. He knew that. Why dwell on it? He wasn’t willing to take the matter further and begin courting again. She’d made it clear she was not interested in marriage.
Still, he pushed himself hard to make sure he returned to the bakery before dawn, just in time to make tea for him and Maddie.
She yawned before burying her face in the rising steam. “Sure-n but I’ll miss you when you move out, Michael Haggerty,” she murmured, eyes half-closed.
And he’d miss this, he realized. These quiet moments, before Ciara and Aiden or most of the people in town were awake, had become precious to him. Maddie stumbled out of her room each morning, hair braided tight and dress clean and tidy even though her eyes were heavy. Breathing deep of the fragrant steam, she straightened her shoulders, smile curving up. It was like watching the rising sun paint the sky gold.
