The Blessed Bride

by Lynn Winchester

  Unable to ignore the pull of her, Pete took a step closer, peering down at her. Her green eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed becomingly. Lord, but she was lovely.

  “Utterly,” he answered simply, his voice low.

  Pati’s flush deepened and she tsked. “I can’t agree that ye’re cursed. I don’t see a beast when I look at ye,” she murmured breathily. She dropped her chin to hide the ever growing flush on her face, then peered up at him through the thick fan of her lashes.

  His heart stopped. This woman…she was everything. But how to make her his?

  He reached up, cupping her chin in his hands, and lifting her face so he could see the whole of her beauty.

  “And what do you see when you look at me?” He felt an answering desire pulse out from her, vibrating through his blood, smashing his every reservation to pieces. Wickedness formed a smile on his face.

  Her body seemed to be drawn tight, waiting for the world around her to breathe. She couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, daren’t take a breath, lest the man before her disappear.

  Black eyes turned to molten obsidian, gazing down at her with such intensity and intent, she didn’t know whether to run or melt into him.

  “When I look at ye…” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, her thoughts in a jumble. “When I look at ye…I see a handsome, gentle man. A man whose strength has given me confidence, whose very presence has rid me of nearly every fear…” She licked her lips, and nearly gasped when his scorching glance settled on her mouth.

  Oh, but she wanted to kiss him, to pour herself into his arms.

  Pete stepped closer, until his chest nearly brushed against the chin he still held in his hand. “What fear remains?” he asked, his voice rumbling through her, igniting her blood.

  “I fear losin’ me da, of him decidin’ ta leave me behind again. I fear bein’ alone for the rest of me life, of being a burden ta the people who mean the most ta me.” She sucked in a steadying breath and tried to pull out of his grip.

  He held fast.

  “You could never be a burden, Pati. Blessings is your home; its people are your family. Don’t you see that?” he pleaded. “Don’t you see that, from the moment you stepped foot in this town, you became a part of it?”

  “Oh, aye. I sew hems and patch socks—”

  “And you make people smile, and you bring light into every room, and you make beasts see beyond their curses to their blessings…”

  Her breath caught at his words. “Payter, what is it ye’re sayin’?”

  Heart pounding, hands trembling, Pati watched Pete’s mouth open but before he could utter a sound, a loud, raucous commotion shattered their moment. Pete swore under his breath and stepped back, dropping his hand from her chin. She immediately felt the loss of his touch like a sickness in her belly.

  The sounds came again, this time louder.

  Pete and Pati turned back in the direction of the mine security office. Shouting, cursing, and scuffling clattered through the air.

  “Best go see what’s going on,” Pete ground out, his jaw muscles working beneath the hardness of his expression.

  Without a word, Pati followed behind him, allowing him to take the lead, lest whatever was waiting for them at the office was dangerous.

  They rounded the corner to find Brandon and Billy, red faced and panting, holding a struggling man between them.

  “Let me go! I did nothin’ wrong and ya cain’t prove I did!” the man sputtered, spittle flying from his mouth.

  “Shut yer yap, ya weasel!” Brandon barked, pulling the man’s arm.

  “Ow!” the filthy man cried out, turning to pin Brandon with a look that could have killed a bear.

  The larger Brandon merely rolled his eyes.

  Pete stepped forward, sliding in front of Pati, like a human bulwark. He meant to protect her. Never one to play a demure damsel—always pragmatic Pati—she held her tongue, strangely entranced by the muscles moving in his back. And the way he stood, legs apart, hands on his pistols, his whole body tensed as if ready to strike.

  Her belly tightened, her breath catching on her wicked, delightful, wonderful thoughts. Pete was what a man should look like. What her man should look like.

  “What’s going on here?” Pete called, steel and fire in his voice. “Billy, Brandon, who is this man?”

  Behind him, Pati couldn’t see the man. Moving to the side, she peered through the space between Pete’s thick, muscular arm and his tapered waist. Heavens, but there was just too much of Peter Jones. All her life, she’d been more than a little annoyed that the Lord saw fit to make her pocket-sized, but now…she rather enjoyed how small she was next to Pete. How safe she felt with him there.

  “This here’s the man that stole Miss O’Connor’s money.”

  “What?” Pati cried out, coming around Pete in a flash. Blood flooded into her cheeks, heating her insides until steam whistled from her ears. From a distance, she couldn’t tell the man in the middle from the other two but, up close, she recognized the man’s filthy beard, his hideous sneer, and his lank, black and gray hair.

  “You!” she hissed, throwing her finger up in accusation.

  The man’s mouth cracked in a malicious grin. “Hey there, pretty. Looks like ya came to Ol’ Jimmy anyhow.”

  Every hair on her head stood on end, and the flesh of her arms began to crawl. She made a horrified noise in her chest. Pete stepped closer to her, surprising her by putting her arms over her shoulders. She immediately felt grounded, if a little tense. How could she not be with the thief standing before her, and Pete so close beside her?

  “Pati, how do you know him?” Pete asked, wariness lining his eyes.

  “I met him me first day in town, when I was askin’ around about me da.” Emotions high, Pati didn’t bother with refinement, caring little if the men shared confused glances.

  Pete moved forward, tipping his chin to Billy. “How do you know he’s the one that stole Pati’s money?”

  “We’ve been askin’ around about who might have broken into Miss O’Connor’s shop, so when this fool walks into Ellie’s place, wavin’ cash around, talkin’ ‘bout makin’ easy money, Ellie let us know.”

  “How’dya know I didn’t make that money in the mines, doin’ honest work?” Ol’ Jimmy shrieked, kicking at Billy. Billy easily sidestepped the man’s flailing legs.

  “Jimmy Harkness, you’ve been in town for more than a year, and you have yet to work a full shift in the mine. Unless you’ve been over poaching on the Miwok’s mine, I’m guessing any money you have is ill gotten,” Pete intoned, throwing daggers with his sharp, onyx eyes.

  Chuffing, Ol’ Jimmy threw his head back and laughed, an unholy, delirious sound. “So, I guess ya caught me then. What’cha gonna do ‘about it? You ain’t the law ‘round here.”

  How dare that worm speak to Pete like that? Rage boiled up her throat, and she let it fly. “Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat,” she snarled.

  Ol’ Jimmy, Brandon, and Billy, all recoiled as if gutted by razor-sharp claws.

  “Demme, pretty. I dunno what ya said, but I promise to be gentle with ya when I get ya alone.” Ol’ Jimmy puckered his fat, cracked lips, making disgusting kissing noises. Pati’s stomach turned.

  From beside her, Pete growled low in his throat. “You’ll never get anywhere near her.” Pete pulled her closer into his side. “Take this piece of filth to the storage shack. He can sweat a bit until Mr. Winslet and I can figure out what to do with him.”

  Brandon and Billy saluted Pete—something Pete absolutely deserved—and pulled Ol’ Jimmy behind them along the trail toward the mines.

  Still within the warmth of his arm draped over her shoulder, Pati turned into him, peering up into his face. Pete looked down at her, regret written into his expression.

  “I’m sorry you had to be here, Pati.”

  “No. Don’t be sorry. I was glad that slug was caught…I just wish I had my money back.” Pete’s expression fell, and he
stepped away, dropping his arm. Pati sucked in a breath at the loss of his arm’s exhilarating weight.

  “Right. Well, I’ll look through his things, see if maybe he hasn’t spent it all. I’ll get it back for you, Pati.” The conviction in his voice did nothing to hide the disappointment she heard there as well.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Pete jerked a nod then headed for his horse, a fine roan, tied to the post in front of the office. As she watched, Pete mounted in a single, agile movement, then turned the horse toward town. He was probably off to speak with Atherton about Ol’ Jimmy. She didn’t know why she felt so melancholy. She should be happy that Ol’ Jimmy was caught. It was one less hooligan tainting the streets of Blessings. So why did her heart slow to a crawl, and why did her chest ache so cruelly? Pete was doing his job, just as he promised her he would. He found the man who stole her money, just as she’d asked him to do.

  So why did she feel like she’d lost something else?

  Chapter 20

  “What have you got there, Da?” Pati stared down at the lump of blood and fur on her only dining table.

  Her da blinked up at her from the cot, rolling over to look at what she’d indicated.

  “That’s a rabbit.”

  She clicked her tongue. “I can see that, Da. Why is it on my table?”

  Her da groaned, turning back over to face the wall. “Atherton brought it by earlier. Said he had more if we wanted them. The local Indians trade them for wool—like the wool around here can hold a candle to the Aran of fair Eire.” Her da was rambling, which he did often now. So rather than wait for him to do something about the rabbit, she picked up the corpse by the ears and carried it outside, laying it over a rock.

  She’d never dressed a rabbit before, but it was fat enough to feed both her and her da. At least she wouldn’t have to go to the Winslets’ again. Now that she had the stove, she was spending money at the mercantile, purchasing onions, dried meat, and fresh fish—a few of the miners were actually pretty handy with a bobber and pole. When the fish wasn’t fresh, and the beef was rancid, she made what she could out of flour, water, and beans. There were plenty of beans in the mercantile.

  Energized by the idea of not eating beans again, she determined to skin and cook that rabbit by any means necessary. She could borrow a knife from her da’s pack, and she could do the actual butchering down by the creek for easy clean up. She could certainly do it…it would just take a bit of ingenuity.

  Needs must…those words sank into her mind, turning over in her thoughts. She’d been living, struggling and surviving for nearly a year, on her own, without her da there to help her. And now that he was there with her, he was about as useful as a bag of potato peels.

  And why couldn’t her da have dealt with the rabbit? For years, her da hunted the fields around their cottage for rabbit, doe, and buck. He’d field dress his kill and bring it back ready for the stew pot. But now, it was as if he’d forgotten how to…be Liam O’Connor.

  Oh, Da…she was losing him again, and she didn’t know what to do about. She didn’t know if she wanted to do anything about it. Her da was there with her, in body, but his mind was somewhere else. No matter how often she tried to include him in her day, in what she was learning, and how much she was starting to love Blessings, he drew away. He spent more time in the shanty, lying on the cot, forgetting he had a daughter at all.

  The man wouldn’t even eat unless she put a bowl in his lap.

  She was exhausted, in spirit, body, and heart. She spent most of her days in the shop, working for money with the intent to get back to Ireland, but she didn’t really want to go back to Ireland. However, she couldn’t stay in Blessings without aching for Pete.

  Now that it was August, the heat was suffocating, capable of boiling your blood. She spent more time down at the creek, where Pete had found her that day she’d left to do her wash without lighting a beacon to let him know about it. The sliver of a smile formed on her face. She remembered how he’d laughed, how his smile turned her inside out. She remembered how she felt the pull between them, a pull that still tugged at her, compelling her to seek him out and make him tell her what he was going to say before Ol’ Jimmy showed up and ruined everything.

  No. That wasn’t fair. At least she’d gotten some of her money back. But what did that matter if she didn’t know what she was going to do with it? Leave? Stay? Send her da on without her? Keep her da close?

  Frustrated, she grabbed the rabbit, her da’s pack, and strode down the well-worn path from her shanty to the creek. The river, from where the creek branched off, was said to be scattered with gold washed out from the mines through underground waterways. Many of the men who came into town preferred to pan for gold or use sluice boxes. Ed Mosier told her that some of those men could make enough to live on, but that none of them had struck it rich yet. But more and more people flooded into the town, pitching their tents and trying their hands at prospecting, which made more work for her. She shouldn’t complain…but she did. Because she saw Pete less and less. With more men in the mines, Pete had to hire two more security guards to make sure nothing got out of hand. Pati knew that Pete took his position seriously, and she admired how committed he was to Atherton and Winslet Mining. But, she couldn’t help but wish Pete would be as committed to her, to whatever it was that had sparked between them. He had to have felt it, why else would he have held her like that? Kissed her? Opened up about his wound, and how it made him feel. She didn’t care about the scar or the mangled ear. She cared about the man beneath it all, the man who showed more character in his little finger than some men had in their whole bodies.

  When the creek came into view, Pati hurried, not only eager to figure out how to skin and prepare the rabbit but also to cool her cheeks and chest in the babbling water. At the water’s edge, she kicked off her boots and pulled the stockings from her feet. Sitting on a rock, she dipped her feet into the creek, the nippy water rushing over her toes and soles. It was like heaven. She threw her head back and moaned. Who knew such pleasure could be found in cold feet?

  Pati sat like that for a few minutes, just watching the birds flitter from tree to tree, shaking needles from the branches as they went. She listened to the water burble by, the warm summer breeze blow through, and the hum of flies and mosquitoes—the world around her was bright, alive, and stunning in its purity. How could she leave a place like this?

  How could she stay? The ever-incessant ache thrummed to life in her chest.

  Oh, Payter…if only I knew what ta do about ye. If only ye’d tell me ye want me ta stay. Because then, at least, she’d know he felt something for her. Friends…that’s what she’d called them. It was what he’d agreed on, but that’s not what she wanted. She wanted all of Pete; his protection, his heart, and every inch of his large, muscular body. She wanted to wake up in his arms, fall asleep with his lips on her neck, and watch Blessings grow with him by her side.

  This feeling; the anguish, the emptiness, it was a pain only Pete could soothe. But how did one go about convincing a hard-hearted man that she was the woman to soften his rough edges? How did a pragmatic woman with a head full of social graces and a spoonful of womanly wiles get a man like Pete Jones to take more than a polite interest in her? They’d shared a delicious, earth-moving kiss once…and she craved another, and another, and even more than that. Would she forever be the once-kissed, thrice rebuffed seamstress?

  Sighing, she stood up and took hold of the rabbit. Pati knelt beside the creek, pulled the knife from her da’s pack, and looked at it. Could she do it? Could she butcher the rabbit?

  Determination rallied to the fore. If she could cross a country by wagon, drink water from a plant, and eat food that stank of shite, she could skin a rabbit!

  Grunting, she set to it. Sliding the knife edge along the belly, she was careful not to puncture any of the inner organs—which is one thing she’d heard her da explain—lest she spoil the meat.

  Thankfully, her hair was now long enough t
o tie back with a bit of ribbon. So it didn’t get in her way as she worked; blood on her hands, sweat in her eyes, and a mouth full of Irish curses.

  “Blast!” Angry at the mess she’d made of the carcass, she sat back on her heels and growled, feeling like a fox denied its victory meal.

  “I think the poor thing is dead,” a deep, familiar voice said from behind her. Gasping, she turned her head to find Pete standing there, bare-chested, water cascading down his body from his hair.

  Swallowing, she tried to focus on his face, not on the expanse of his broad male chest, and flat planes of belly.

  “Pete,” she blurted, “what’re ye doin’ sneakin’ around like that? Tryin’ ta kill me?” And from the looks of those arms, he could easily snap her in half.

  He smiled, a lopsided grin that stole the next words from her head.

  “I was just up the way, bathing. You might have heard me coming if you weren’t grumbling to yourself. What are you trying to do, anyway?”

  Bathing…that would account for the wet hair and bare chest, but not for why he’d come up the creek, toward where he knew she often came. She cocked up her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m trying to skin it, if you must know,” she said, imperiously. Don’t look at his chest, keep yer eyes above his Adam’s apple!

  A deep, low chuckle escaped, and Pete’s mouth became her point of focus. Not too wide, just the right amount of thickness, hard lines, above a strong chin…his lips had to have been painted by a master.

  “I don’t think you’re doing it right,” he said, walking toward her. It took everything in her to not watch the muscles in his belly flex as he moved. Laird, Almighty.

  “Pati…” Pete’s questioning tone made her glance up to find a smirk in place on a face that was much too beautiful to be practical.

  Quickly regrouping, Pati gripped the knife tighter in her hand, if only to keep from reaching up and running her hand over all the male flesh exposed to her gaze.

  “It isn’t as though they teach animal butchery in deportment school,” she remarked as she bent to scrub the blood from her hands.