Instant Frontier Family

by Regina Scott

  Still, he had a life to reclaim. He couldn’t stay here forever, for all a part of him wanted to do just that.

  “Today I’ll be contacting those businesses Clay suggested,” he told her as she sat across from him at the table, sipping her tea. “Depending on how long that takes, I may go straight to Kelloggs’ afterward. Don’t wait dinner for me.”

  She nodded, setting down her cup. “I’ll be saying a prayer for you, but I know you’ll find work today. You’re too clever a lad to be left dangling.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

  She rose with a chuckle and went to set her cup on the sideboard. “I’ll be fine. I’ll send word to Deputy McCormick about the incident last night. Perhaps we’ll both have good things to report when next we see each other.”

  He rose to intercept her. “Here’s hoping.” Returning her gesture from the night before, he bent and kissed her cheek. She pulled away quickly, but he saw her touching her face with a smile as she hurried out, her shoes clattering on the stairs.

  And once again, Maddie remained on his mind as he set out.

  The first three business owners had excuses for not hiring, all logical. One had just filled the opening, another wanted someone with experience specific to the job and the third had decided to expand his offerings a bit more before hiring. The fourth, however, made no bones about his opinion.

  “I don’t hire the Irish,” he said, beefy body blocking the doorway of his shop as if to prevent Michael from entering. “Not even on the recommendation of Clay Howard. Go work with your own kind, if you can find one honest and sober enough to do a day’s work.”

  Michael felt his fists bunching, but he bit back harsh words and left. A mind that closed wouldn’t have been persuaded no matter how eloquently he presented his case. The good Lord had said not to throw pearls to pigs.

  He wasn’t hopeful for the last business Clay had suggested. Michael had no experience working as a blacksmith, and he knew he was much older than the lads usually taken on as apprentices. He ducked out of the rain into the wide wooden building near the waterfront. Darkness and heat wrapped around him, the sharp smell of smoke poking his nose. He made out a number of iron tools lining the walls, surrounding a forge of rough stone with a chimney blackened by smoke.

  An older fellow with a brown leather apron tied around his broad frame straightened from the anvil and lifted a pair of tongs that held an ax blade fading from a glowing red. “Is this good enough for your brother?”

  Another man stepped out of the shadows. He wore a fine brown suit, bow tie at his throat, and Michael could not imagine why he would be in Seattle or what he could do for a living here. The dandy cocked his head, golden-brown hair spilling to one side. “Better. But perhaps it needs a little more of a curve. Drew tends to swing hard.”

  “And why wouldn’t he, big fellow that he is?” the smith grumbled, running his free hand back through his thinning hair. By the amount of soot on his fingers, Michael couldn’t tell whether his hair was gray or merely coated with the by-products of his work.

  He must have caught sight of Michael just then, for he lowered the ax and jerked up his double chin in greeting. “Can I help you, mister?”

  Michael took a step forward, nodding to both men. “I hope so. My name is Michael Haggerty. I’m looking for work, and Clay Howard thought you might need someone.”

  The smith shoved the blade back into the coals. “I might. Do you know anything about smithing?”

  “No,” Michael admitted. “I worked the docks in New York. But I’m good with my hands and I’m willing to learn.”

  The smith humphed. He pulled a different piece of iron from the fire with his battered tongs, set it on the anvil and hammered, the metal chiming with each blow.

  The other man eyed Michael and raised his voice over the din. “You aren’t looking to log, are you?”

  Michael smiled. “I’m looking for any job that will allow me to support myself and pay off my debts.”

  “Debts, eh?” The smith held up the iron, then plunged it back into the fire. “Gambling man?” he asked Michael as the ax blade started glowing again.

  “No, sir,” Michael said. “Someone here funded my passage from New York, and I want to pay her back.”

  The other man started. “Her? I know who you are! You’re Maddie’s fellow.”

  Michael nearly cringed at the name. The smith set down his tongs, red-rimmed eyes narrowing.

  “You’re the man who’s been helping Miss O’Rourke at her bakery,” he said, tone like an accusation.

  Michael refused to lie. “I am. Though I’m no baker either.”

  “No, but you must be a hard worker if Maddie puts up with you,” the other man said. He came to nudge the smith with his shoulder. “What do you say, Smitty? You know you can’t keep up with the volume, even with the new fancy ironworks opening. It’s taken a week for you to fix Drew’s ax as it is.”

  “Maybe if your brother wasn’t such a demanding fellow, I might have gotten it done faster,” the smith complained. He eyed Michael. “Come closer, if you’ve a mind to work. You saw how I used the tongs. Pick up a piece of iron from the fire and cut it through on the hardy there.” He pointed to a triangle of metal embedded in one end of the anvil.

  Michael moved to the fire. Up close, the heat pushed at him like a live thing, the smoke singeing his face. With two pairs of eyes on him, he knew better than to flinch. Taking the tongs, he squinted to peer into the flames, then reached in, skin heating.

  Father, guide me now.

  Feeling as if his breath burned in his lungs, he drew out one of the iron bars that glowed nearly yellow. He used the tongs to hold it steady on the point of the hardy, then took the smith’s hammer and brought it down once, twice. The ring of metal echoed in his ears, followed by the soft thunk of the iron dropping to the dirt floor.

  The smith’s customer started laughing. “Maybe I better take my business to Mr. Haggerty in the future.”

  The smith scowled at him a moment, then turned to Michael. “No experience, eh? What made you pick that piece?”

  “It was glowing brightest,” Michael admitted, not knowing whether it was a good reason. “I thought that meant it might be softer and easier to cut.”

  “Did you now?” The smith let out a cackle. “Smart fellow. You’re hired. You can start this minute. There’s wood that needs chopping for the fire and fresh water to be brought from the pump for cooling.”

  Michael stared at him. “You’re hiring me?”

  The smith spat on his dirt floor. “Didn’t I just say so? Now, hop to it, fellow, before I change my mind.”

  “Give him a moment to catch his breath, Smitty,” his customer chided him. He held out a hand. “Congratulations, Haggerty. Glad to make your acquaintance. I’m James Wallin.”

  Michael nodded, accepting his hand. So this was the man throwing the elaborate wedding Maddie thought would make her famous in Seattle. “Maddie’s spoken of you.”

  “All good, I’m sure,” he said with a grin Michael couldn’t help returning. “Just don’t work too hard for Smitty here. Maddie’s going to need your help baking for my wedding. I wore out my brother’s ax clearing off my property and getting things ready for my bride. Now I mean to throw the biggest party Seattle has ever seen, and you’re all invited.”

  Smitty snorted. “Always the best for James Wallin.”

  “Always the best for Rina,” James corrected him. “She was raised as a princess, and I intend to show her she’s queen in my books.”

  His bride must be wealthy if James could liken her upbringing to that of a princess. Michael had heard of such families in New York. The newspapers were full of news about the Astors and Vanderbilts.

  “You spoil her at the start, you’ll have to spoil her the
rest of your life,” Smitty predicted, bending to lift his water bucket. He threw it at Michael, who caught it. “Tell him, Haggerty.”

  James eyed him, but Michael shook his head. “I’d be the last one to tell you how to treat your betrothed.”

  “Why?” Smitty demanded. “Miss O’Rourke leading you in a merry dance?”

  “Miss O’Rourke and I are not betrothed,” Michael said. “She paid the passage for someone to bring her sister and brother out to her. I happened to be the one available.”

  “So now you’re a nursemaid too?” Smitty looked so shocked that Michael wouldn’t have been surprised to hear him make good on his threat and rescind his offer of employment.

  “What a man won’t do for love,” James teased.

  Love? No, what he felt for Maddie couldn’t be love. After what had happened in New York, he wasn’t ready to fall in love again, certainly not after knowing a woman only a week or so.

  Still, the question remained—what exactly did he feel for Maddie O’Rourke?

  * * *

  The day flew by faster than usual for Maddie. She had Aiden and Ciara take word to the sheriff’s office on their way to school and received a visit from Deputy McCormick shortly thereafter. The lawman examined the rocks, window and boardwalk, face set and eyes narrowed as if he didn’t like what he’d found.

  “Well?” Maddie asked as he straightened away from the rough planks. “Any idea who might have done this?”

  “Not at the moment,” he said. “But I’ll ask around.”

  Maddie threw up her hands. “That’s what you said last time, and you never found my rose extract.”

  “I found the empty bottle,” he said, voice rougher than usual. “Someone poured the contents out behind the university. One of the male students complained of the smell.”

  Maddie lowered her hands. “But that makes no sense. That extract was costly and hard to come by here. Why steal it to throw it away?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know what he was stealing,” Deputy McCormick reasoned. “Those patent medicines all look alike to me. Or maybe once he discovered what it was, he realized he couldn’t sell it here without someone asking questions.”

  Maddie bristled. “Or he never intended to sell it at all. Now do you see what I was saying about Mr. Terry?”

  He held up a hand. “Terry is one of the most well-liked fellows in the territory. I’ll keep an eye on him, but I can’t see him being so petty as to throw rocks at your bakery in the middle of the night.”

  In truth, neither could she. But the alternative left her even more angry, for it meant someone else in Seattle had something against her.

  She was glad for the hustle and bustle of work because it kept her too busy to ruminate about either her adversary or a certain handsome Irishman who had stolen a kiss that morning. She was so busy serving her starving customers that afternoon, in fact, that she didn’t immediately notice Michael’s entry. It wasn’t until she was shutting the door behind the last of the gentlemen buyers that she could turn and smile at him as he stood in the shadows of the stairs.

  And then she rushed up to him.

  “What have you done to yourself now?” she demanded, taking his arm and dragging him into the light from the front window.

  He touched the red patch on his cheek and grimaced as if it hurt. “I got a little too close to the forge, but I’ll know better next time.” His smile turned up as his gaze met hers. “I did it, Maddie. I found work. You’re looking at Seattle’s newest blacksmith.”

  Joy bubbled up inside her, and she threw her arms around him. “Oh, congratulations, me darling boy! I knew you could do it!”

  She leaned back to look at him, and the warmth in his eyes robbed her of speech, of breath. She knew if she didn’t move right then, he was going to kiss her.

  She couldn’t seem to budge.

  “Are they gone, then?” Aiden asked, coming down the stairs. He stopped and stared at the pair of them, face scrunching. “Are you going to kiss her?”

  “It had crossed my mind,” Michael said, but he stepped back from Maddie.

  “Did you need something, Aiden?” Maddie asked, feeling as if she’d stepped too near a fire as well.

  Her brother glanced between the two of them. “No, that’s all right. I was just wondering if you had any cookies left.”

  “I saved some just for you,” Maddie told him. “I’ll go fetch them.” With a bob of her head in farewell to Michael, she fled for the kitchen.

  What was wrong with her? She’d actually encouraged him to kiss her, throwing herself in his arms that way. Of course she was happy for him, but she knew that wasn’t the entire reason for her reaction. Despite all her intentions, despite all her misgivings, she’d developed feelings for Michael Haggerty.

  And why wouldn’t she? He was a steady rock in the mad swirling river of her life, someone she could always count on. But that was an illusion. Sooner or later the stress of life would prove too much, turning warm feelings into cold ash that blew away in the wind. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t live the way her father and stepmother had lived, the way so many families lived in Five Points. She refused to pass on such heartache to Ciara and Aiden. They deserved better.

  So, for the next few days, she focused on her work and her siblings. She picked up, washed and delivered another batch of laundry. She did her usual baking, managed to add sugar cookies and her father’s barmbrack loaf to her offerings and finished testing the last of the recipes she would need for James and Rina’s wedding, to Aiden’s satisfied delight.

  She also made sure to stop by Nora’s corner, pick up the rest of Ciara’s clothing and pay her friend for her work.

  “Tell Ciara she can dye that skirt,” Nora said as she folded the clothes for Maddie to carry home. “Use the blue paper that covers your sugar and mix it with a little vinegar and alum in a kettle.” A bolt of fabric slid off one of the haphazard piles behind her, and she stopped to lift it back into place.

  “That will give her something useful to do,” Maddie said. “I’m struggling to know how to deal with her, Nora, for all Michael Haggerty seems to have discovered the secret.”

  “If you want, I can teach her to sew,” Nora offered, giving the pile one last shove and a glare that dared it to move again. “That’s one of the ways my brother kept me out of mischief.”

  Maddie had a hard time imagining her friend as a troublemaker. “I’ll think on the matter.” She took one of the dresses to fold while Nora folded the other.

  “You must have a lot to think about lately,” Nora said, hands busy and gray eyes downcast. “About your sister, about the bakery, about a certain gentleman from New York. What exactly do you intend to do with the fellow?”

  She made it sound as if Michael was a dress Maddie had outgrown or a hat that had gone out of style. “It’s not up to me,” Maddie said. “He’s found work with the blacksmith. When he’s saved enough money, I expect he’ll move into his own lodgings, and that will be that.”

  Nora glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes. “And will you be glad to see him go?”

  She couldn’t say that. She’d come to enjoy his company. “Ciara and Aiden and I will all miss him,” she told her friend. “But he came here to start over, and we shouldn’t hinder that.”

  “No indeed,” Nora agreed, laying the last dress on the pile. “I hope your sister enjoys these. She seems to have very high standards.” She smiled, broadening her already broad cheeks. “Almost as high as your standards for a husband.”

  “I’ve no such thing,” Maddie declared. “Do you?”

  Nora’s gray gaze turned misty as she looked out over her small corner of the shop, as if she saw much farther than the dark wood walls and wooden spools of thread massed by color. “I doubt I’ll ever marry, but if I can tell you the qualities I
’d want in a husband—kindness, intelligence, creativity, determination and unswerving devotion to me and his Savior.” She sighed as if the picture she saw in her mind was nothing short of perfection.

  “Sure-n but I wonder how you can find such a paragon,” Maddie said with a smile.

  Nora lowered her gaze, cheeks darkening. “Oh, I haven’t. Most likely he doesn’t exist. But it’s nice to dream.” Humming to herself, she lifted Ciara’s clothes and handed them to Maddie, then gave her a hug and sent her on her way.

  Maddie walked back to the bakery, deep in thought. Funny how Nora had that effect on her. Her friend saw the world so differently. This idea of a perfect husband, held up as a comparison with all gentlemen, sounded like a recipe for disaster. Small wonder Nora had refused all suitors. Who couldn’t help but be found lacking?

  Still, Maddie couldn’t help wondering what she would consider the perfect husband, if she were ever to convince herself to take a chance on marriage. Someone patient and kind, certainly. He would have to keep a civil tongue in his head the way Michael did. Definitely a man who was good with Ciara and Aiden, a man they could look up to like Michael. Someone who’d laugh with her in the good times and hold her through the bad the way he did. Someone who wouldn’t grow cold in trouble.

  She stopped on the street and hugged the clothes closer. Several bachelors hurrying past eyed her, then kept walking, as if they didn’t want to deal with whatever had put that shocked expression on her face. She couldn’t blame them. She wasn’t sure she was willing to deal with it either.

  For while Nora might not be able to envision the fellow she wanted to marry, Maddie had a real picture, and the man in her mind wore Michael’s face.

  Chapter Seventeen