Pioneer Devotion: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Six

by Flightner, Ramona

  He nodded. “No, never.” He cleared his throat. “Speak with Maggie. It’s her story to tell, but she is afraid, and I don’t know what to do to ease her of her fears.”

  Swiping at her cheeks, Mary smiled. “Marry her and show her you desire her. Chaste kisses on the forehead and hugs do nothin’ to soothe her doubts. They only help make them grow.”

  Dunmore stood in shocked silence, as he watched Mary retreat. He knew a little about her past and suspected she must have suffered at the hands of her second husband, Jacques’s brother, Francois. However, Dunmore had never considered that Mary and Seamus had had to work through Mary’s fears upon her return.

  Dunmore’s thoughts returning to Maggie, he considered how he could find a way through the distance back to her. Now all he needed to do was determine how to overcome his fears of hurting Maggie worse than she already hurt.

  * * *

  Dunmore arrived at the family home that evening, his mind reeling and battling anxiety. He brushed at his hair and wished he’d visited the barber to tame his unruly mane and to trim his beard. Instead he worried he looked worse than the Frenchman who’d abducted Maggie. No wonder she had trouble looking him in the eye these past weeks.

  With an irritated sigh, he approached her. He stilled when she pasted on a smile and looked in his direction but refused to meet his gaze. “Maggie,” he murmured. “Good evening.”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight,” she said. “This is a family party.”

  He frowned at the subtle barb and looked around at the younger O’Rourke boys, who appeared even more animated than usual. “I had hoped I’d always be welcome,” he said softly, unable to conceal the hurt in his voice.

  “Dunmore,” Mary called out, as she entered the kitchen. “’Tis always grand to see you an’ especially on the night we’re celebratin’ wee Maggie’s birthday.” She looked at him expectantly and then sighed with exasperation.

  “Tonight?” he asked, as he gaped around, spinning to stare at the table set for the entire family. “That’s tonight?”

  “I told you he wouldn’t remember,” Maggie muttered to her mother, as she moved toward the sink. She gasped when he grasped her arm and gave her a gentle pull, so she’d face him.

  “You know no such thing, Maggie mine,” he murmured, his eyes shining green with disappointment and concern. “Come.” He tugged on her hand. “We have to talk. Mary, make our excuses until we return.” He pulled Maggie behind him out the door, down the steps, and past the chicken coop. He walked quickly, although he had a slight hitch in his gait. “We don’t have time to go all the way to the creek before it’s dark, but I’ll be damned if I’ll talk with you as a dozen O’Rourkes listen in.”

  She tilted her head up and leaned away from him. “Fine. I’d prefer them to learn tomorrow that you have no wish to continue this farce of a relationship.” She waved her free hand between them, gasping when he tugged on her hand, yanking her toward him.

  “Farce? Farce?” Dunmore backed up until they were behind a shed and out of view of watchful eyes. “How dare you call what we have a farce?” He panted with fury, and his cheeks had reddened with his anger.

  All of her bravado evaporated, and she hunched forward. “I know you don’t want me. You barely talk with me, and you find no joy in me anymore.” She shrugged. “I knew it would happen. Once you thought about what occurred with Jacques.” She sniffled and pulled on her hand that he still held. “Please don’t make excuses.”

  “Excuses?” he asked, rocking backward. “How can you believe this nonsense? This sounds like something like that horrid Janet Davies would say, not my Maggie. How can you ever believe I want nothing to do with you? That I care one iota about what happened between you and Jacques, except for how it hurt you and how it caused you to lose your confidence?” He shook his head at her tears, taking a step closer, as he raised a shaking hand to trace over her brow. “Forgive me.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered on a broken sob. “I can’t.” She pushed at his chest, earning an “Oof” of surprise, although she wasn’t able to race away from him. He wrapped an arm around her middle, yanking her close. “Let me go. Just let me go, Philip.”

  His heart broke at the pleading desperation in her voice, and he took a stuttering breath as he pressed his face to her neck. “I can’t. I want to do everything in my power to give you what you want, but I can’t let you go. I can’t lose you, Maggie.” When he felt her still and cease fighting him, he eased his hold on her and helped turn her, so he could meet her gaze. “I thought I was being sensible. Giving you time to overcome your heartache.”

  She shrugged, as a sob burst out, unable to speak.

  Swiping his hands over her sodden cheeks, he whispered, “Instead I was a fool. I allowed you to craft lies about how I truly felt.” He kissed one palm and then the other, raising her hands to rest against his chest. “I love you, Maggie. I have loved no other as I love you in my entire life. I will never love again as I love you and if you …” He paused, as though what he were about to say were an unutterable sacrilege. “If you were to deny me loving you, I would have to leave.”

  “Leave?” she whispered, her breath stuttering and her eyes widening in horror at the prospect.

  He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes. I can’t be in this town with no hope of us, Maggie. I hate that you suffered, but I’ve clung to the belief that you’d come to trust me. To trust that I would never hurt you as he did. To trust that I’ll only ever care for you. Cherish you.”

  She gazed at him in wide-eyed confusion. “But you haven’t held me or kissed me in weeks. Not since I recovered after I returned.”

  His smile was filled with somber tenderness. “You’ve been pricklier than a porcupine. I wanted to respect you and to give you space. I realized today that I’ve been a fool.” He took a hesitant half step in her direction, stilling when she froze. “Trust me, please,” he pleaded.

  She spun away from him a moment before she fell to her knees, a keening wail carrying on the wind. Dunmore looked up for a moment to see her brothers, Ardan and Kevin, poking their heads around the side of the shed. He waved them away and then nodded, as they backed away. Giving thanks that Maggie hadn’t noticed their presence, he lowered to kneel by her.

  “Maggie, what is it? I know what happened. I know the worst of it,” he murmured.

  She held her hands over her face. “How can you still want me?” she whispered. “How can you trust I’m not lying?” She raised her gaze to stare at him.

  He shook his head, as though she were speaking a foreign language. “You’ve always been honest with me. I know you’d never lie. I trust you.” He spoke in short, simple sentences, hoping something he said would help her to have faith in him. “I believe in you.” He took a deep breath. “And if … , Maggie, if he’d …” His jaw clamped tight for a moment before he rasped out, “… raped you, I would always want you. That would be his shame. Never yours.” He paused as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Never yours.”

  She collapsed forward, creeping forward the few inches that separated him. She fell into his arms. “I’m so ashamed,” she whispered. “Everyone looks at me, like I’m … I’m …” She didn’t finish her sentence.

  “Precious,” he murmured. “They worry they’ll do or say something wrong that will cause you pain.” He pulled her even closer, sighing with pleasure to hold her in his arms again. “Someone should have pushed you to cry and scream and wail before now Me. Your parents.” He kissed her brow. “You would have released all this sorrow before now. Instead you let it build up and created fantasies that weren’t true.”

  He held her close for long moments. He waited until she relaxed incrementally in his arms. “Nothing that happened to you was your fault. Nothing that was done to you was your fault.”

  “I begged him to beat me,” she protested. “What kind of woman am I?”

  He tensed, taking a deep breath, as he looked at her for a long moment, her head cradled
in his palms. “The bravest woman I know. You survived something horrible, beloved, while you escaped something even worse.” His gaze shone with relief and love. “I know this is the wrong time, but you need to know.” When he felt her tense, he smiled tenderly at her. “I can’t live this life without you, Maggie. Marry me. Please.”

  She gaped at him, her gasping breath feathering his cheek for a long minute, before she pushed against him and struggled to stand. “No! No, I will not be seen as some pathetic …” She stopped, holding a hand to her mouth as she stared at Dunmore, her gaze unguarded and uncertain. “You mean it? You want me? As I am now, not as you dreamed I’d be?” A tear coursed down her cheek.

  He had risen, and he fought a growl, as he reached for her, before dropping his arms. “I won’t force you. I won’t pressure you. But I love you, with everything I am and with everything I hope to be. I want to love you and to protect you and to cherish you forever. If you’ll let me.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her breathing shallow, until she stilled and stared at him in wonder. “Let you?” she breathed. “It’s my choice?”

  At his terse nod, a smile burst forth, causing his breath to catch at its brilliance.

  “You want me,” she whispered, “not the fantasy?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Being your husband will fulfill my greatest fantasy, Maggie. You are my one true dream.”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “My lode star,” she whispered. At his grunt of agreement, she met his gaze, where he failed to hide his impatient nerves. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She gasped, as he pulled her close. “Please don’t regret loving me.”

  “Never, my Maggie. Never.”

  * * *

  Seamus wandered to the kitchen’s back door to peer outside, but he could see nothing. “He would maneuver them behind a shed,” he muttered.

  Mary chuckled. “You’d have done the same thing with me,” she teased, as she stroked a hand down his tense back. “They’ll sort out their problem, and all will be well.” She stilled when he turned to stare at her with a fearful gaze.

  “How can you be so sure, Mary?” he whispered. They spoke in low voices, as their children sat at the kitchen table, chattering away, while waiting for Maggie to return for her birthday dinner.

  “I’m certain because I learned to trust again. So will our daughter.” She smiled at her husband, as he glowed with love for her. “She will see in Dunmore what I saw in you, Seamus. A good, honorable man. She’ll have the courage to believe in him.”

  He turned to look out the door again and then sighed, as he leaned against the wall in the tiny entryway. “I failed her, Mary. First by not protecting her from the likes of Jacques, and then by not having the ability to track him and to free her of him.” His gaze filled with impotent fury. “And now, all these weeks, she’s been hidin’ away from us, and I didn’t have the courage to confront her.”

  When he turned to look out the back door again, Mary hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his strong middle. “Shh, my love,” she whispered. “You’re always too hard on yourself. Forgive yourself for being human, as we all have to forgive ourselves.” She kissed his back. “My faith in you never wavered,” she whispered.

  He gripped her arms, clasping him around his waist, holding her arms tight. “I know, a ghrá mo chroí.” He murmured the most precious endearment he had for his Mary, love of my heart in Gaelic. “’Tis at times difficult to accept my limitations.”

  She chuckled, pressing another kiss to his back. She eased her hold on him, when she felt him stiffen. “Shay?”

  He stood tall, his hand reaching back for Mary, so she could squeeze beside him. “Our Maggie’s comin’, an’ she’s been cryin’,” he said. He stared hard at his daughter, but he could see no sign of current distress. Instead his daughter walked hand in hand with Dunmore and leaned against him, as he murmured something in her ear. “Finally,” Seamus whispered.

  Mary kissed his cheek and nodded her agreement. “Aye, finally, Dunmore broke through.” She eased back, tugging Seamus with her, so that they were at the kitchen table, rather than crowding her daughter in the small entryway.

  Seamus never stopped staring at the door, his tension not easing until Maggie walked through with Dunmore. “Darlin’ girl,” he murmured. He waited for Maggie to meet his gaze, and then he nodded at the older man he respected and trusted. “Dunmore.”

  “I’m sorry supper was delayed,” Dunmore said, as he kept his hand linked with Maggie’s. “We had to clear the air.”

  Seamus smiled, admiring the man’s ability for understatements. “Aye, well, ’tis apparent you did.” He slapped Dunmore on the shoulder. “Come. Enjoy supper and our celebration for wee Maggie.”

  Maggie reached forward and gripped her father’s arm, her gaze filled with excitement, although she quivered with anxiety. “Da?” she asked, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper, as she didn’t want her brothers to overhear. “Dunmore and I are to marry.”

  Seamus stared at his daughter and then at Dunmore. After a prolonged silence, he asked in a soft voice, “’Tis what you desire, Maggie?”

  She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Aye,” she breathed. “So much. I didn’t believe I deserved him. Or that kind of happiness.”

  Seamus broke off what more she would have said by tugging her into his arms. He spoke loudly enough for Dunmore to hear. “Oh, my lass, I’m so happy for you. And so proud of you,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ve found the courage to trust again.”

  She backed up and smiled through her tears. “To dream again.” She laughed as her mum pulled her close, rocking her from side to side.

  “What’s the news?” Declan called out. He had an arm wrapped around Lorena, and he remained vigilant about her health, although she was fully recovered from her ordeal. When Maggie and Dunmore remained silent, Declan asked, “Da?”

  Seamus shook his head. “No, ’tis Maggie’s news. And it’s appropriate she should have so much to celebrate on her birthday.” He watched as Maggie released her mum and burrowed into her Dunmore’s side again. A gratified warmth filled Seamus at seeing his daughter finally reclaiming her life and some of the peace that had been stolen from her.

  Maggie sniffled and then burst into a bright smile, as she faced her family, watching her expectantly from the table. “Dunmore and I are to marry.” She burst into a girlish giggle, when her siblings let out a roar of joy and rose to pounce on her and Dunmore, showering them in hugs, kisses, and blessings.

  Seamus stood to one side, Mary in his arms, watching as Maggie glowed with joy. “Ah, our girl will find her way back now,” he murmured. “She’ll have fits and starts, but she’ll find her way.”

  Mary rested her head against his shoulder and nodded. “Aye. She’s an O’Rourke. I never doubted her for a moment.”

  Chapter 12

  Maggie stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, wishing she had a more beautiful dress. Although she knew she should be grateful for what she had, the cream-colored linen held stains on the bodice and the wrists, and she knew no amount of embroidery would hide the blemishes. Running a hand over the dress, she closed her eyes, dreaming of a different one.

  As she envisioned her wedding day, all she saw was Philip. Waiting for her, with the hidden smile in his eyes that was only ever for her. She took a deep breath, conjuring his smell and how she almost felt light-headed at times, when she inhaled a lungful of his singular scent. She smiled as she imagined the laughter and joy she would feel tomorrow, when she stood beside him, accepting the well-wishes of the townsfolk.

  A month had passed since their engagement, and the winter weather had already arrived in Montana Territory, although still early November. Dunmore had wanted to wait to hold the wedding until he was done with work for the season. He said he couldn’t imagine marrying the woman of his dreams and then leaving to ferry men around the Territory. With an impish smile, he had teased that, by waiti
ng, he was guaranteed a five-month-long honeymoon.

  Blushing as she recalled the ardent promise in his gaze, Maggie ran another hand over her dress, sighing again at the serviceable gown. At the soft knock on her door, she called out, “Come in.” Her sister, Niamh, poked her head in, and she smiled. “Hello, I didn’t expect to see you.”

  Niamh grinned back. “I know. That’s why they call this a surprise visit.”

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, pointing at her very extended belly.

  “Like I’ll pop any moment.” She stared at her sister for so long that Maggie began to fidget. “You’ve been daydreaming.”

  Flushing, Maggie nodded.

  “Good,” Niamh said. “’Tis good to see that what you’ve been envisioning brings you joy.” She set a bundle on the bed and moved to face Maggie, setting her hands on her sister’s shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. “There’s no shame in being scared for tomorrow, Mags.”

  Maggie flushed, biting back what she would have said in protest. “You know what it is to be afraid to believe in the man you love. I feel like I’m betraying him, every time I have to battle fear. Every time he raises his hand to rub at a piece of hair or to cup my face, I’m preparing for a blow.” She flushed and ducked her head. “I only had a few days of abuse. I shouldn’t complain.”

  Niamh spoke in a soft voice, her hands firm yet gentle at the same time. “You’ll never know how much I wish you’d been spared the suffering I endured.” Her hazel eyes clouded over with the memories of the time she had spent with her abusive husband. “It doesn’t take more than one blow for you to become cautious. And scared.” She looked at Maggie. “And he beat you far more brutally, again and again in a few short days, than I was beaten.”

  “Niamh, I know you suffered,” Maggie protested.

  “Aye, I did. I suffer now knowin’ that there are times I react without thinking, and that hurts Cormac.” She shrugged. “But he understands and loves me.” She swallowed and looked down, choosing her words carefully. “What I’ve discovered that is important, that is essential, in my marriage, is that I speak with Cormac. I trust him with my fear and my pain and my shame.” Her gaze glowed with her truth. “He’s never let me down.”