He pulled her head against his chest. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. It was his.”
She stiffened, then released a shuddering breath. “I think I’m beginning to see that. It’s hard, though. Changing everything I’ve held onto.”
For better or worse, that fear and guilt had been part of what shaped her. He fingered a lock of hair. “You know what your problem is? You work too hard.”
A shaky chuckle shook her shoulders. “Seems I’ve heard that before.”
He allowed his fingertips to brush her neck. “It was good advice.”
Silence took over for several more minutes. It was more than enough just to hold her.
She pointed toward the sky. “Look.”
His gaze followed her finger to a display of fiery splendor only heaven could create. “It’s beautiful.” Too perfect for words.
“The only kind of fire I’ve been able to tolerate is the sky with the rising and setting sun. It’s not as majestic in North Carolina as it is here though.” Her words were wistful. An undercurrent of longing. Was she thinking about going back to Carolina? Over his dead body. But there would be a better time and way to tell her.
For now, he pulled her closer. “You know what the fire in the sunrise represents, don’t you?”
She turned a questioning gaze on him. “What?”
“A new beginning.”
~ ~ ~
Two days later, Bryan heaved a piece of charred wood onto a stack of debris piled high. All around him, men called to each other and grunted from their labors. The town had come together in remarkable ways to help those who’d suffered from the fire. Basically, starting at one end of the damage and working their way to the other, clearing out anything that couldn’t be salvaged. The flames had affected at least a third of the buildings in Butte proper.
His chest still ached, and his voice rasped more than he’d like. But at least he could work for an hour or two at a time before he had to stop and rest.
“Good to see you out, Doctor.”
Bryan turned to see Martin Daly, mine owner extraordinaire, with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He didn’t look very soiled, but still. At least he wasn’t hiding behind his front door while the rest of the town worked.
He nodded at the man. “Good to be out.”
“I heard you got caught in the fire and we almost lost you.”
Bryan nodded again. Martin wasn’t one for small talk, so there must be a reason for this. Bryan wished he’d get to it.
“I’m glad we didn’t lose you. You’re a good man, Donaghue. This town needs more men like you.”
The words struck Bryan in his chest. The town needs more men like you. And this from Martin Daly, one of the most influential men in town. A man who’d shown pretty good judgement, from what Bryan had seen. He swallowed, trying to gather his wits. “Thank you, sir.”
Martin glanced at the debris from the washhouse Bryan was helping to clear. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about my men and their lung sickness.” His gaze lifted to Bryan’s. “I’d like to talk more about purchasing some masks. Maybe a larger trial. Fifty or so, to make sure they’re the right approach.”
Bryan forced his gaping mouth to close. “That…that sounds good, sir. I’ve placed an order for twenty more, but I’ll send word to up the count to fifty. I really do think they’ll make a difference, but a larger test is a good idea. Make sure we’re not missing something important.” He was prattling on, but the excitement beating in his chest made it hard not to.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll cover the cost of all fifty.” Martin stepped forward and extended a hand.
Bryan glanced at his own, his palm solid black from soot.
“It’s all right, man. You’re fine as you are.” Martin spoke quietly.
Bryan raised his gaze to meet the man’s eyes. Respect shimmered there. He reached out and clasped Daly’s hand, gripping it solidly. “Thank you, sir.”
“All right then.” Martin stepped back. “I’m off to negotiate with Lanyard. Trying to get the old coot to provide some of the necessities at his cost for the families whose homes were wiped out. He’s a tough cookie, that one. Doesn’t give things away well.” His mouth twisted in a sardonic smirk.
“Good luck.”
Bryan watched Martin pick his way around piles of burnt timbers as he headed back to the street. Had that really happened? Martin was willing to pay for a trial of fifty, then possibly for all his mine workers? Lord, it’s too good to be true.
You’re fine as you are. Had Martin meant that? Or was he simply saying he didn’t mind getting soot on his hands?
For man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart. The scripture he’d read that morning came back to him. Daly’s respect would be nice, but it really didn’t matter. God saw Bryan’s heart.
Footsteps sounded behind him, daintier than the men clomping across the boards. Bryan turned to a sight that cranked up his heart rate. He let a slow grin spread across his face. “You’re the best picture I’ve seen all day.”
Claire smiled at his words, ducking her chin as pink flushed her cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
And right there in front of half the town, she stepped closer and planted a kiss on his lips. It was a chaste kiss, to be sure, but scandalous nonetheless. A few whistles and calls sounded from around them, but Bryan ignored it all.
He didn’t hold back his grin, though. “You better watch it, or I might ask you to repeat that. And you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
The pink in her cheeks turned bright red. This woman was beyond perfect. A combination of sassy and pure innocence.
She held up a bucket of water and a ladle. “Would you like a drink?”
He took the ladle and scooped it. “Is this a service you’re offering to all the men?”
She raised a pert brow. “Of course. I’m not stingy with my help.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, almost bringing on a coughing fit before he stopped it. “I guess that’s all right. I wouldn’t love you as much if you were.”
The impudent expression softened into sweet tenderness. “It’s mutual.”
That sealed his decision. Enough waiting around. It was time to claim this woman as his. Although, she’d pretty much just done that with the kiss in plain view. Now it was his turn.
He squared his shoulders. “Are you busy tonight, Claire?”
Confusion clouded her gaze as she cocked her head against the sun. “We…um…Just helping Aunt Pearl.”
“Can you ask off for tonight?”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I guess. Can I tell her the reason?”
“I need you.” And that was the honest truth. But probably not the way she would take it.
She inhaled a breath. “All right then. What time should I be at the clinic?”
Always trying to help. That was his Claire. He tapped her button nose. “I’ll pick you up from Marcus’s. Six o’clock all right?”
“Fine.” She gave him another curious glance.
She wasn’t getting another word from him on the matter, though. He stepped closer and lowered his mouth for a touch on her lips. “You’d better share the water with the others, or they’ll mutiny.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Claire studied the dresses laid out on her bed. The gray polished muslin with lace frills on the sleeves and bodice? If they would be working around the fire-ravaged areas, that was definitely not the right dress. But a relaxed dinner at the café? It would be perfect.
The yellow calico was a much better fit for working around the fire, with its frayed edges and chemical stains on the skirt from working in papa’s clinic. But nothing about it was flattering, and it certainly wasn’t appropriate for an evening spent with a suitor.
So what exactly were their plans for the night? Bryan had been so cryptic. And for some crazy reason, she hadn’t asked for details.
At last she settled for a beig
e shirtwaist with layers of flounces on the sleeves and a becoming cut at the waist. With her forest green skirt, it was somewhat elegant, yet still practical. She sighed. It didn’t matter if she had to wear flour sacks, as long as she was spending the evening with Bryan, but it would still be nice to turn his head a little.
The knock sounded just as she inserted the last hair pin in her coif. The loose curls tumbling from the knot wouldn’t hold if the work Bryan had planned was too strenuous. But she’d deal with that if the time came.
Through the thin walls, she heard Marcus open the front door. The men’s greetings drifted in as she stepped back for a final glance in the mirror. Tilted her head. Not her best effort, but it would have to do.
“Clara Lee, Bryan’s here.” Marcus’s voice boomed from the next room as if she were completely deaf. As if the walls weren’t the thickness of a single plank, transmitting the sound with little barrier.
“I’m coming, dear brother.” A little too much honey dripped from her tone, but he’d get the point. No matter how much she told him to lower his voice, the boy couldn’t do it.
As she stepped into the parlor area, Claire’s gaze found Bryan instantly. He was magnificent. Not only did his plaid waistcoat pick up the green tint of his eyes and the string tie at his neck accentuate its strength and thickness, but he actually wore a jacket with wide lapels, unbuttoned though it was.
She’d never seen him in anything other than waistcoat and shirt-sleeves, usually rolled at that. Her simple shirtwaist and skirt were pauper’s clothes compared to the way he’d turned out.
“I, um, need to go back and change.” She whirled to escape.
“Wait.”
The word stopped her in her tracks. She slowly turned back as Bryan took two long strides across the room. He clasped her hand and held it out as he looked her over. Admiration shimmered in his eyes when his gaze met hers. Poor man. Either he was still regaining his faculties from the fire, or he’d been gone from fashionable society for far too long.
“You’re beautiful, Claire. Stay just like you are.” He raised her hand to his lips but turned it over at the last minute and pressed a kiss to the fleshy part at the base of her palm.
Merciful heavens. Bumps skittered up her arm.
“A-hem.” Marcus cleared his throat from behind them. “You two, uh, need an escort tonight?” He placed particular emphasis on the word escort. Was that red creeping into Bryan’s cheeks?
He turned to face Marcus, though not loosing his grip on Claire’s hand. She twisted it so she could lace her fingers through his.
Bryan’s voice was genial as he answered. “We’ll be fine, but you’re welcome to come if you’d like.”
Oh, gravy. The last thing she needed was Marcus sitting between her and Bryan, the third wheel telling childhood stories she’d rather forget.
“We’ll be fine.” She strode toward the door, pulling Bryan behind her and sending Marcus a sweet smile. “Aunt Pearl said she’d save a seat for you tonight.”
Marcus raised a brow at her but didn’t move to follow.
They strolled along the streets of Butte, heading north toward the outer edge of town. Bryan filled her in on his conversation with Mr. Daly, one of the mine owners he’d met with about the masks. Her heart soared at the outcome.
“Bryan, that’s wonderful.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “You’re wonderful. You’ve done it, you know. Finally brought about change for the miners.”
He ducked his chin, brows lowering as he kicked the ground. “It’s a start, but we’ve a long way to go still.”
True, but they’d get it done. She had no doubt.
“How are you feeling today?”
He raised his head, giving her an off-kilter smile. “Ready for Miriam and Alex to stop fussing over me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You almost died in a fire. Let them fuss for a few days. I might do my share of it, too.”
His gaze darkened as he stared squarely into her eyes. “That, I might allow.”
Heat flamed up her neck, and she looked away. Maybe they should stick to a lighter subject for now. “Has Miriam finished cleaning and reorganizing what didn’t burn at the clinic?”
The men had been able to stop the fire midway through the smaller examination room, so the main treatment room and the waiting area were still intact, along with the supplies Claire hadn’t dumped into crates the night of the fire.
“She wouldn’t stop until she had it completely spotless.” He gave her a dry smile. “My sister-in-law’s nothing if not hard-working.”
Claire chuckled. “She fits in the family then.”
They were nearing the church now, the trampled grass on the far side another reminder of that awful night. “When do you think you’ll start rebuilding your room off the clinic? Or will you stay with Miriam and Alex?”
“No, no.” He gave a hearty shake of his head. “The newlyweds need their space.” He cast a sideways glance at her. “And room for expansion, too.”
Claire studied him. “Do you mean…?”
He nodded.
A grin pulled her face. “She finally told. I couldn’t figure out why she was keeping it a secret so long.”
His brows pulled close. “You knew?”
She gave him a patient look. “It was hard not to notice if you watched her try to eat a meal. Poor thing was miserable.”
Bryan pursed his lips and shook his head. “I completely missed it. Alex didn’t say anything either.”
Probably best to let that one go. “So when do you start rebuilding?”
A funny look took over his expression. “I was thinking to start tomorrow. At least with the planning and ordering of materials.”
What did his expression mean? Part uncertainty. Part question. Part eagerness. They reached the grass beside the church, the undisturbed side, and he motioned for her to step off the street.
“Do I get to know where we’re going?” She kept a teasing tone in her voice, but his secrecy was killing her.
“Just right around there.” He motioned toward the back of the church.
When they turned the corner, Claire pulled to a stop. A blanket was spread across the grass, held down by a basket, jar of purple flowers, and a canteen.
“I hoped we could have a quiet dinner. There’s something I need your help with.” Bryan’s voice rumbled in her ear as he stood right behind her.
“I’d love to.” It was perfect.
After they settled on the blanket, Claire unpacked the food from the basket. Fried chicken, corn cobs, sourdough bread and jam, and her favorite, cinnamon sweet rolls for dessert. “Is there a chance I made any of this?” she joked as she loaded a plate for him.
He chuckled. “It’s possible. Everyone knows Aunt Pearl serves the best food around.”
She sank back on the blanket and sampled the sweet roll first. “I don’t usually stop to eat these, but I love them.” The gooey sweetness exploded on her tongue, and she closed her eyes to savor the flavors. Cinnamon, of course. A touch of nutmeg. Honey. Her favorites.
When she opened her eyes, Bryan was watching her. “If you ever enjoyed my company half as much as that cinnamon roll, I’d be the happiest man alive.”
She raised a brow, fighting an embarrassed grin. “Who says I don’t?”
His green eyes darkened, but he didn’t move closer. Instead, he took in a deep breath and met her gaze. “Claire, I’m not good with words, so I’m just going to say this. Will you marry me? I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I already love you more than I ever thought possible.”
Her breath stopped. Had he just…? The words caught her so off guard. From enjoying a cinnamon roll to will you marry me in less than ten seconds.
And then her wits caught up with her. Bryan just asked her to marry him. Oh, Lord, You are truly good. She pushed her plate aside, wiped cinnamon icing from her fingers, and rose up on her knees. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bryan’s lips.
> He didn’t seem startled this time, like he had earlier when she’d bussed him in front of all the others. That had been shamefully improper, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now, he gripped her sides and pulled her closer, sitting her almost in his lap as he claimed her lips with intensity. Blood rushed through her, warming every part of her core. This man loved her.
Far too soon, Bryan eased her back, his breath coming in ragged jerks.
She pressed a hand to his chest. “Are you all right? Did that hurt?” Why had she done such a crazy thing when the man could barely breathe on his own?
He stroked a loose curl from her cheek. “I’m all right. But we better save the rest of that for a time when we’re not so…alone.” One side of his mouth crooked. “Was that a yes?”
She settled back into her spot on the blanket and took up her plate. Then, with a pert glance up at him, she said, “I suppose so.”
“Good.” His grin was wide as he pulled his own plate onto his lap, but his breathing still wasn’t steady. She’d have to do a better job watching him the rest of the evening. Alex had said symptoms could worsen several days after the fire.
“So you asked about rebuilding the clinic.”
She looked up at the drawl in his tone.
“I was thinking we should look at house plans tomorrow, if you have a few minutes.”
Claire straightened. House plans? She tried to keep her smile from spreading too wide. “You’re not building the room on the side of the clinic?”
“Is that what you want?” He looked doubtful.
She nibbled her lip. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” She had tried not to think in any detailed terms about a future with Bryan in case he never asked her. But now…
“Well I’ve thought about it. I was thinking it would be nice to have a separate house, like Alex and Miriam. If there’s room, we can put it on that empty tract between the clinic and the law office.” His brow wrinkled. “I might be able to purchase the land where the office was, if Turner’s willing to sell.”
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 60
