After long moments of contented silence, Maggie murmured, “How did Cormac find you?”
“Cormac searched for any word of me,” Dunmore said, as he kissed her head, his fingers playing in her soft hair. “When he heard of a ruffian picked up by a man on the road I had been on, he wouldn’t rest until he found me. And brought me back to Fort Benton.”
He glanced at Maggie. “When the stage crashed, I was headed to a high mountain town between Helena and Virginia City. The man with the empty wagon had brought supplies to the place where the washout occurred, and the townsfolk ferried the goods up to the town from there. I doubt they’ll fix the road this year.”
“Why were you in the livery here? Why didn’t Cormac bring you to us?”
“He worried about moving me too much, and I was a pigheaded fool. I refused to wait in the wagon, like he wanted. I wanted to heal, to take a bath, and to become presentable, before I approached you. So I crawled out of Cormac’s wagon, intent on making it to the bathhouse on my own. Instead I found you.” He heaved out a breath and kissed her head again. “I was delusional, and Cormac knew I couldn’t go far. He left me there to go find you, even though I asked him not to.” He swiped at her face, when he saw her frown.
“Why?” she asked in a small voice. “You had to have known how your absence hurt me.”
“I dreamed of being strong, the man you remembered. Not some beat-up, worthless bag of bones, who couldn’t even stand on his own.”
“Hush,” Maggie ordered, her fingers covering his lips. “Never talk of yourself like that. You survived. You did everything you could to return to me.” Her eyes filled. “I hate imagining what you suffered, so you could come back to me.”
He stared into her eyes a long moment, his thumb tracing away a lone tear. “I had to return, Maggie.” He paused before whispering, “Beloved, I had to.”
Her gaze glowed at his soft endearment, and she remained quiet for a long moment. “What was the accident like?”
Staring at her with an unseeing gaze, he whispered, “Like flying through air and waiting for death. Exhilarating but terrifying at the same time. I was so angry.”
She ran a hand over his jaw. “Because of the loss of your stage?”
Frowning, he shook his head. “No. Because I thought I’d never see you again. Never hold you again. Never have the courage to tell you that I love you.” His gaze shone with a fervent passion. “I was so angry at fate.”
She smiled. “Don’t be too mad, love. You’re here now, in my arms.”
Chuckling, he sighed. “Yes, and I’m a half-crippled man.” He saw her frown and winked at her. “I’ll heal. And, when I do, we’ll talk about the future. Nothing will ever separate us again, Maggie. I promise you,” he whispered.
Sighing with pleasure, Maggie took comfort in his avowal, impatient for the day he was better, so they could start their life together.
* * *
Cormac Ahern leaned against the doorjamb, his astute gaze roving over his friend. Rather than sweaty and fever bright, Dunmore had a healthy glow to him. His cheekbones weren’t as pronounced, and he didn’t grimace with pain when he shifted on the bed. “You look better, Dun,” he murmured.
Dunmore looked up from the book he was reading, setting it down on his belly, as he motioned for Cormac to enter. When Cormac moved to shut the door, Dunmore shook his head. “Leave it open. It soothes me to listen to Maggie sing in the kitchen.”
Grinning, Cormac sat, brushing a strand of his long brown hair over his shoulder. “You look a hell of a lot better than when I found you.”
Shrugging and wincing at that movement, Dunmore closed his eyes a moment against the pain. “That’s not saying much.” He let out another deep breath and then focused on his friend. “I’ll be fine. Just need a few more days.”
“Weeks, by the look of it,” Cormac said. “I’ve watched you hobbling to and from the privy. It ain’t a pretty sight.” He waited for Dunmore to protest, sobering further when Dunmore was quiet. “What bothers you, Dun?”
Sighing, Dunmore motioned for Cormac to close the door. After his friend had settled again, he murmured, “I’ve been reliving the time I was away. Too much of it is a blur of pain and trying so hard not to pass out. My only focus was on returning to Maggie.” He let out another deep breath. “I almost wished I could die, except I wanted to see her again.”
Cormac gave a grunt of understanding. “She has you tethered.” He said it with no censure, as Niamh had Cormac just as tethered to her. “That’s nothin’ to be ashamed about.”
Dunmore nodded and smiled ruefully. “I knew you’d understand.” He looked at the door. “I have this memory of being moved.” His gaze was filled with disbelief and doubt. “I shouldn’t have been thrown so far from the crash.”
Grunting again, Cormac hunched over, his long hair falling over his shoulders. “I can see why that would bother you.” Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know what it means, Dun. The townsfolk who searched for you said they never saw hair nor hide of you. That you plumb disappeared.” He nodded at the question in Dunmore’s gaze. “I visited that town. Spoke with the folks there.”
“Was he … ?”
“No, I didn’t see him, and no one would speak of having known a man named Jacques Bergeron. Perhaps he changed his name.” Cormac shrugged. “Here’s what I do know.” He half smiled, as Dunmore leaned forward with a childlike eagerness. “You’ve been given a second chance with Maggie. Don’t squander it.”
Dunmore half-groaned, half-laughed. “I never would have taken you for a romantic, Cormac.”
Chuckling, Cormac smiled fully at his friend. “Well, I have plenty of time to ponder life, as I stare at a team of oxen, while I trundle along the roads of this Territory. I’m thankful every day Niamh had the courage to take a chance on me.”
Dunmore nodded, his astute gaze meeting his friend’s. “When I’m better, Maggie and I will wed, as we should have done earlier this summer.”
Cormac tapped Dunmore on his shoulder and rose. “Good. About time the two of you stopped dancin’ around each other. Besides, the O’Rourkes love a wedding. And wee Maggie deserves a bit of happiness, after the hell of fearing she’d lost you.” He rose, nodding to Dunmore, before slipping from the room.
* * *
A week later, Maggie walked rapidly toward the rebuilt bookstore, intent on obtaining a new book for Dunmore. He was an avid reader, and she wanted to ensure he was never bored, while he recovered. Although he had wanted to attempt walking to the bookstore today, Maggie had pushed him into a chair in the living room and had insisted he allow her to make the short journey to the store. Dunmore had enough difficulty walking to the privy, and she had no desire for him to reinjure himself and further delay his full recovery.
Although eighteen year old Niall had agreed to walk with her to the bookstore, a young woman had distracted him. Practicing his sweet talk on her, he’d lost interest in escorting his sister, and Maggie had lost patience listening to him attempt to flirt.
With a huff, she had set out on her own for the bookstore, a short distance away and a walk she had made numerous times on her own.
Her heart skipped a beat at the fact that Dunmore was alive and recovering and that she’d return to him soon to see him laugh and smile. She stifled a small squeal of delight at the realization she would have a future with the man she loved.
Suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her off her feet. The rapid movement caused her to lose her breath, and she gasped, unable to scream for help. Someone stuffed a rag in her mouth, covered her head with a burlap bag, and tied a rope around her arms and legs, so she couldn’t move, before tossing her into the back of a wagon. She landed with a bone-jarring thud, her head bashing into the unforgiving wood and causing her to see stars for a moment.
Listening intently, she heard faint voices but nothing clear. She wriggled around, stilling when she felt another body beside her. She inched away from it, hoping the perso
n near her was alive too. She heard the sound of a cloth spreading, and she imagined that whoever had the temerity to take her was covering the wagon with a tarp.
“Don’t worry, mon petite chou. I’ve come back for you.”
Maggie froze as the voice from her nightmares carried on the soft breeze.
Jacques.
He was back, and he had captured her. He had always enjoyed taunting her with French endearments, while he threatened her with violence. She shivered, and a steely resolve to never again be a victim of his cruelty surged through her.
She began to struggle, arching up, attempting to find a way free from the back of the wagon.
“If you wish the person beside you to die a painful death, ma chérie, continue to fight. I’d hate to think you’d cause your brother such suffering, when he learns his wife’s been hurt.”
When she heard Jacques’s warning, she stilled her frantic arching. Maggie froze, although her urge to flee was still paramount. Yet how could she, if the lifeless form beside her was one of her adored sisters-in-law? Which one? “Deirdre?” When there was no response, she murmured, “Aileen?” She heard the rickety sound of the wagon, felt the rocking, as it climbed out of the riverfront area toward the bluffs and the road leading to the Territory. “Phoebe? Lorena?” Tears coursed down her cheeks, as silence met every inquiry.
Although she worried Jacques had tricked her, she couldn’t risk he wasn’t telling the truth. Tears continued to trickle out, and she prayed her family would notice her absence and would start searching for her soon. For she knew, if Jacques had too much of a head start, they would never find him in the wide-open Territory.
Chapter 6
Declan walked into his parents’ house, kissed his mum’s head, and smiled, as she offered him a cup of tea. His alert gaze searched the kitchen, and he tilted his head, as though attempting to hear a missing sound.
“What’s the matter, love?” Mary asked, as she continued to tidy up the kitchen and to prepare supper.
“Where’s Lo?” he asked, as he took a sip of tea. “I thought she’d gone to visit Deirdre, but she’s not at the café.” He looked around the quiet kitchen. “Then I thought she might have come here with books for Dunmore.”
Mary frowned, as she set aside the carrots she’d been about to chop. “But Maggie was goin’ to the bookshop to find new books for Dunmore. She went there nearly an hour ago.”
Declan froze. “An hour ago?” He shook his head. “She never arrived. I’ve been there the whole time, and she never arrived.” He squeezed his mum’s arm and set down his mug of tea. “Don’t leave the house. I’m goin’ for Da.”
He raced out of the kitchen to the warehouse, a short distance away. Barreling inside, he bellowed, “Da!” His brothers, Kevin, Niall, and Lucien, spun to stare at him. “Da!” he yelled again, as he ran the few steps into the office, his brothers on his heels.
Seamus was already halfway across his office and met his son’s terrified gaze. “What is it, lad?”
“Lorena and Maggie are missin’,” he rasped. “Mum said Maggie was to go to the bookshop an hour ago, but she never arrived. Lo’s been gone over two hours.” He quivered with rage and fear.
“Missin’?” Seamus growled. “What fools we are, lettin’ our guards down.” At the commotion at the door, he paused and stared at his youngest sons. “Lads, we have an emergency and no time for your shenanigans.”
“No, Da,” Bryan said in his young voice, hopping up and down. “This is serious!”
“Lad,” Seamus said in a warning tone.
“Henri saw Jacques!” Bryan yelled out.
“What?” Seamus marched toward the pack of his youngest sons—Bryan, Henri, and Oran. “Where? When?”
“About twenty minutes ago,” Henri whispered, his gaze haunted, as though he’d seen a terrifying ghost. “He was driving a wagon out of town.” He pointed to the bluffs that bracketed the backside of the town. “Up to the main road.”
Seamus looked at Kevin. “Get horses. Find weapons.”
“Da,” Kevin whispered, as he knew how his father felt about weapons.
“Do it,” Seamus barked. “He has Maggie and Lorena.” He shook his head, as he refused to say more. “Go!” Spinning to Lucien, he said, “Go to Niamh’s. See if Cormac is home. If he is, have him meet us at the livery in fifteen minutes.”
To Niall, he said, “Go to the café. Have them shut down. I want everyone at the main house. Including Niamh, the lads, and the lads’ wives. Finn and Eamon will remain to ensure everyone is safe.”
“And Dunmore?” Declan asked. “You can’t expect the man to remain here, while he knows Maggie is in danger.”
“He’s too weak to be of any use,” Seamus said. “And we can’t risk havin’ to care for him, when our focus should be on outsmartin’ Jacques.” He spat out Jacques’s name, as though it were the worst blasphemy he’d ever spoken. “Dammit, I wish I were a tracker.” He shared a long look with Declan, his blue gaze fierce with anger and frustration. “I must tell your mum.” Seamus ran out of the warehouse, leaving Declan and the younger brothers behind.
Declan stood, swaying in place, at a loss as to what to do. He turned as the warehouse door burst open again.
“Dec!” Eamon yelled, as he ran toward him. “We just heard. Lorena?” Eamon gripped his shoulder. “Is she …”
Declan shuddered, as dread filled his gaze. “I don’t know. I can’t lose her,” he whispered. “I can’t …” He held a hand to his heart. “’Tis barely a year since we married.”
Finn gripped him by the shoulders. “Da will bring her back. They’ll find her.” He paused. “Are you going with them?”
“Hell yes,” Declan said. “I want to be there to comfort her.” He stared at them with horror. “I hate to think what she has suffered. What she is suffering.”
Eamon gripped his shoulders, his jaw tightening with anger. “Don’t allow yourself to imagine anything right now, Dec. Bury it all deep and focus on what you must do. Focus on finding your Lorena. On bringing her home. On holding her close and cherishing her.”
Declan nodded, a fierce determination in his gaze, as he looked at his brothers. “Don’t hate me if I kill the bastards who’ve taken her.”
“Never,” Finn said. “Never.”
* * *
Seamus returned to the house, where he pulled Mary into his arms, holding her close for a long moment. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve failed you and our daughter. I’ve failed Declan.” He shook for a moment, before burying his emotions deep. He released her, his hold on her shoulders firm, as he stared into her eyes. “I swear to you, I will bring them back, safe and unharmed.”
Mary cupped his cheek, her eyes brimming with tears and filled with terror. “I trust you, Shay. I know you will do everything you can. Promise me.” She waited, until he nodded. “Promise me you won’t do anything to risk you.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment, before he shook his head. “You know I would never break a promise, a ghrá. Especially to you, my dearest love.” He stroked a finger over her cheek. “So I can’t promise you that. If I have to risk myself to save our Maggie, I will. I always will.”
Tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she nodded. Standing on her toes, she kissed him, before breaking the kiss as she battled a sob. “I’ll pray, every moment you are gone, that you return to me. That you all return to me,” she whispered. “I love you, Shay. You and no other.”
“As I love you, my Mary.” He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, before he eased away. “I’ve asked that everyone move back into the house while we’re away. ’Twill be crowded, but I want everyone safe and under one roof.” He relaxed slightly, when she nodded her agreement. “Pack us some bread and other snacks, love. I must speak with Dunmore.” He squeezed her shoulder, as he moved from the room.
Seamus walked the short distance to the downstairs bedroom, poking his head inside. He met Dunmore’s alert gaze and nodded.
“He has
her,” Dunmore said, without preamble.
“Aye,” Seamus said. “We’ll get her back.”
Hitting the blankets with his fists, Dunmore eased himself up, gasping, as he attempted to move too quickly. “I can’t come with you. I won’t be there, Seamus, to punish him for daring to approach her.” His gaze filled with impotent fury. “I should be the one to kill the man.”
“Nay,” Seamus hissed. “I should be. He tormented my Mary and the lads. He’s dared to threaten my Maggie and Lorena.” He nodded, as Dunmore’s eyes widened in shock at that statement, as Dunmore hadn’t known about Lorena. “He will suffer. I promise you.”
Dunmore took a deep breath. “Whatever happens,” he whispered. “Whatever has happened to Maggie, I will always want her. I will always love her.”
Seamus’s blue eyes filled with relief and pain, as he understood what Dunmore intimated. “I’ll bring her back. I promise you.” He clasped Dunmore’s hand in a firm grip, before he strode out, intent on leaving as soon as possible.
* * *
Maggie moaned, as the wagon continued to rock and sway. Her legs and arms were numb, and she had a horrible crick in her neck from how she was forced to lay. She dreamed of the soft bed in her father’s house. She allowed her mind to wander, as she imagined what it would be like to rest beside Dunmore, using his shoulder as a pillow. To listen to his heartbeat and to feel protected, as she laid in his embrace.
She clung to that image, as she battled against her fear. She knew Jacques was taking her to some remote place in the Territory, and she feared she would never see her family again. They were not trappers and trackers, like he was. They had no experience living in the wild, not as he did.
The wagon slowed and then stopped. She tensed, as she heard men talking at a distance, unable to understand what was spoken. Stiffening at the sound of the tarp being tossed aside, the light was brighter, and she braced for someone to touch her. However, she was unable to stifle the shriek as strong arms grasped her around her middle and hauled her out of the wagon.
Pioneer Devotion: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Six Page 8
