Pioneer Longing: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Four

by Flightner, Ramona

Eamon opened his arms. “Come here, love.”

  With a groan, she fell forward, pressing into his embrace. She shrieked as he rolled them over once, effectively wrapping her up in the comforter that had been on the bed.

  “Better?”

  “So much better,” she said into his neck, her arms wrapped around him. “I feel like I’m in a cocoon.”

  His hand stroked up and down her back. “Sleep,” he urged as he held her close. “Rest in my arms.”

  She nestled her head under his neck, sighing with pleasure as she tumbled into sleep on his chest.

  * * *

  Eamon woke from a light doze with Phoebe wrapped tightly in his arms. He sighed with relief to feel her snuggled up against him, breathing deeply as she slept in his embrace. Running his palms lightly over the silky skin of her back, he relished this chance to hold her. To cherish her.

  For too long, he had felt they were out of step with each other. Today, as he had revealed his fears, he felt a flicker of hope for what they could have, if they were both brave and if both shared the truths they kept hidden in their hearts. After weeks watching his parents and his married brothers, Eamon knew he wanted a marriage similar to theirs. One filled with love, respect, admiration, affection, and trust.

  When she struggled in his embrace, not fully awake, he murmured, “Shh, love, you’re safe. You’re well. No one will hurt you. I promise.”

  “Eamon,” she breathed, her eyes closed, and her voice sleep-slurred. “I wish this were more than a dream.”

  “Wake up, love, and you’ll see that it is. Wake up, beloved.” He ran his hands over her cheeks, brushing her hair back as she pushed herself up, staring at him in confusion. “Hello, Bee.”

  “Eamon,” she gasped. “What are you doing here?” She dropped down onto him again with another gasp, causing him to grunt as she knocked the air out of him. “Why don’t I have clothes on?”

  He kissed her head, his hands soothing her as he sensed her panic. “You took a bath, and then we chatted. Your towel fell off, and we wrapped up in the blanket.” He smiled as she calmed at his rational explanation.

  “You mean, we didn’t …” She tilted her head up to look into his eyes, flushing when she saw the amused patience in his gaze.

  “No, love, we did nothing more than have a wee cuddle.” His hands continued to rove over her soft skin. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m fully dressed.”

  She gave a small shriek, pushing away from him while attempting to clutch the blanket to her. In her haste to get away, she stripped herself bare, before falling to the floor with a resounding thud. “Ouch!”

  “Bee!” Eamon cried as he scooted to the side of the bed to look at her, huddling with her knees drawn up, her blond hair a riotous mass around her head. “Did you hurt your leg?”

  “My leg is fine,” she snapped. “My pride is damaged.” She glared up at him. “I’m sure this is a common occurrence for you.” When he stared at her with befuddlement, her glower intensified. “Waking up with a naked woman in your arms. Charming her with your soothing, melodic voice. Easing her of her sense of propriety.”

  Eamon gaped at her for a long moment, his cheeks flushing beet red with aggravation from her words. “You know nothing.” His voice emerged as a low hiss, before he flung himself back onto the bed, ignoring her on the floor.

  “Are you offended I’m not eager for your attentions?” she asked in a mocking voice.

  He let out a long sigh before muttering, “Don’t spout your sisters’ nonsense, Bee. It doesn’t suit you. And it does not honor what we have.” He took a few deep breaths, willing his anger to calm. “You are wrong.” He spoke in a deliberate, low voice. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever had in my bed. The first naked woman I’ve ever held in my arms.” He waited, unable to hide a triumphant gleam in his gaze when she poked her head over the top of the mattress to look at him. “I won’t lie to you, Bee. I’ve kissed other women. But I’ve never slept with another. I’ve never made love to another.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Surely you had the opportunity.”

  He rolled onto his side and stared at her, as though studying her and seeing her for the first time. His gaze never left hers. “You have a horrible opinion of men. I suppose that’s fair, for I’ve had barely a better one of women all these years.” His lips turned up in an imitation of a smile as they stared at each other. “When I was a mere lad, I thought I’d enjoy women, take what was offered, but never allow myself to be bound to one. Never give a woman the chance to hurt me as I saw Da ache after he lost Mum. As I saw Da suffer during his miserable second marriage.”

  “Eamon,” she whispered, her hand reaching forward to stroke his arm. “You could have gone to a place like the Bordello.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “You’ve met Da. He’d thrash us if he knew we visited such places. He’s tried to instill in us that a man should respect, and hopefully revere, the woman he is with. And that frequenting a place like the Bordello makes a mockery of what should be sacred.”

  “How does he explain his marriage to his second wife?”

  Eamon shrugged. “He was a widower, terribly lonely, with six children to raise. I think he lied to himself, convincing himself he could care for another woman as he did, as he does, for Mum. Yet he and Colleen were miserable.”

  “I thought he had a relationship with the Madam.”

  Eamon nodded. “Aye, he’s good friends with her, although never anythin’ more. He found he missed having a wise woman’s insights. Da doesn’t lie, and he swore he never had an affair with the Madam.” He smiled wryly at Phoebe. “I doubt my mum would have befriended the Madam if he had.”

  Phoebe bit her lip, as she stared at him a long moment, assessing if she could trust what he said. Finally she said in a low, hesitant voice, “You’ve never woken with a woman in your arms before?” When he shook his head, a subtle tension eased from her shoulders. “You’ve never seen a naked woman before me?” He jerked his head no again. “You truly want me?” Her voice broke on me.

  He angled his body so he could stroke the tips of his fingers over her cheek. “What more do I have to do to prove it to you, Bee? I was a fool on the steamboat, and I’m sorry.” His brilliant blue eyes glowed with remorse. “But, ever since we arrived here, I’ve done everything I can to show you my constancy.”

  She swallowed. After a long moment, she breathed, “Yes.”

  “What do you need from me, Bee?”

  A tear trickled down her cheek, and she whispered, “Nothing.” She arched up onto the bed, her nakedness ignored as he pulled away to scoot farther away from her. “No, Eamon, that’s not what I mean.” She crawled onto the bed, pulling the tangled blanket around her. Kneeling by his side, she reached forward to cradle his face in her palm. “It’s me, Eamon. I have to find the strength to believe that I am truly what you want.”

  Eamon opened his arms, holding her close as she tumbled forward. “You are, my Bee. You are.” He felt her shiver, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “Come. Get under the blankets. The nights are still cold here.”

  She arched up, kissing him and silencing what more he would say. “No,” she gasped, as they broke the kiss. “I want you to love me. Show me what we can have, Eamon.”

  Toppling her to her back, he leaned over her, his gaze filled with concern. “I don’t want you to feel that I rushed you. I’d never want you to regret what we do together. Or to resent me.”

  She smiled tenderly at him. “I could never resent you. Not now that I understand.” She stared deeply into his gaze, her breath catching. “Don’t you want me?”

  “Don’t I want you?” he repeated, his eyes widening in surprise. He trailed a finger from her temple to her jaw and back up again, his gaze roving over her beautiful face before meeting hers. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you trip up the walkway to the steamboat in Saint Louis. Finn had to hold me back from vaulting forward and helping you because you didn’t need my aid.” He
paused. “Every conversation, every look, every moment in your company has only made me want you more.”

  He leaned forward, kissing her softly. “But I need you to promise me something, Bee.” He took a steadying breath and met her gaze, his eagerness and trepidation equally visible in his gaze. She frowned, cupping his face. “Our first time might not be what you dreamed it would be. Have faith that it will only get better between us.”

  A dazzling smile burst forth, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him toward her. “Don’t be afraid, Eamon. Let’s be brave together.”

  * * *

  The following morning, Phoebe awoke, groaning as she stretched. Muscles she didn’t realize she had were sore. She poked her head over the mound of blankets, frowning to find the cabin empty. With an aggrieved huff, she fell back against the pillows, pulling the blankets around her. How could Eamon have left her on their first morning, now that they were truly husband and wife?

  She closed her eyes as she battled lifelong insecurities. Images and sensations from the previous night came to her, and she shivered from the pleasure she had felt in her husband’s arms. She smiled as she remembered laughing and giggling with him. Never would she have thought to have found such joy in her marriage bed.

  Her hands beat on the covers in agitation to be alone in their bed. She’d dreamed of waking up with his arms wrapped around her. Why would he leave?

  Hearing boot steps on the front porch, her eyes widened, and she pulled the covers to her chin. What if it wasn’t Eamon who entered? Peeking over the covers, panting with anxiety, she watched the door creak open. When Eamon slid inside, she collapsed backward. “Oh, thank heavens.”

  “Bee! You’re awake,” Eamon said. Something clattered on the tabletop, and he murmured a few words to someone on the porch steps, and then the door was shut and bolted.

  Leaning on her elbows, she glared at him. “Where were you? Why did I wake up alone?” She sniffed, her stomach grumbling.

  Chuckling, Eamon smiled. “I brought us sustenance, dear wife. I woke up ravenous, for you and for food.” He winked at her, his smile broadening at her fetching flush. “I didn’t have the sense to bring over supplies yesterday, and Kevin and Aileen eat at the big house most days, so I thought we could do the same.”

  “What will your mother think? A wife who can’t even care for her own husband.” Phoebe held a hand to her head.

  Eamon opened a trunk and pulled out a robe for her, urging her to rise and to slip into it. When she stood in front of him, he stole a kiss. “My love, she’ll never care about that. She only cares if her sons are happy. And she can see we are. Desperately so.”

  Her luminous green eyes met his, and she traced her fingers through his stubble. “You are?”

  He nodded, his eyes lit with a fierce rapture. “How can you doubt after the night we spent together?” He kissed her softly, backing away before he deepened the kiss. “I hoped to find passion, Bee, and we did. But I never thought to find joy and humor. I never knew we’d laugh and talk so much.” He shook his head, as though words failed him.

  “I never knew I could share so much of myself without fear,” she whispered, her gaze filled with vulnerable hope.

  “Yes, my darling. And I trust you would keep my fears, and me, safe.” He pulled her close. After a moment, he groaned. “Come. I promised myself I would ensure you ate before I coaxed you back into bed.”

  She giggled, her hands running through his silky black hair. “Some promises can be broken.” She nipped his lower lip. “Come back to bed, husband,” she entreated, tugging on his hand to follow her. “I’ve never cared whether a meal was cold.”

  “Oh, you are a temptress,” he murmured, as he worked to kick off his boots.

  She smiled at him, her eyes glowing with the promise of further shared passion. “Only for you, my Eamon. Only ever for you.”

  Chapter 16

  Answering the knock on her front door a few days later, Phoebe smiled with relief to see a grinning Maggie and a serene Mary. Phoebe had an irrational fear of seeing her sisters, as she knew Winnifred would say something sly and cutting. Phoebe had no desire for anyone to tarnish the joy she had found with Eamon. “Hello,” she said, unable to hide a blush, as this was the first she’d seen her husband’s family since she had moved to her cabin. Eamon had brought food home every day as they had a short honeymoon.

  “Oh, thank heaven,” Maggie said, as she launched herself forward, hugging Phoebe and nearly tumbling the two of them to the ground with her exuberance. “I feared you’d still be abed. Or not dressed.” She rolled her eyes. “Eamon was cross that we wanted to visit you today.”

  Flushing at her husband’s name, Phoebe attempted to appear nonchalant at the mention, although she couldn’t hide her pleasure at hearing it spoken.

  “Newlyweds,” Maggie muttered with a roll of her eyes and a snort of disgust.

  “One day you’ll find yourself in a similar situation, and you’ll have no desire to be interrupted,” Mary said with a soft stroke down her daughter’s back. “I’ll have to encourage Phoebe to be more charitable and to refrain from heckling you.”

  “Mum,” Maggie murmured, flushing bright red. “You know I won’t marry for years and years.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Mary said, before wisely turning the conversation away from Maggie. “I hope you’re not disappointed ’tis the two of us visiting rather than your sisters.”

  “No! Of course not,” Phoebe stammered out. “I imagine they’re busy at the café, helping Deirdre.”

  Maggie snorted. “Lorena is a true help, as she washes dishes and doesn’t complain too much. Winnifred’s chattering is enough to drive anyone to murder.” She shook her head. “Now that she doesn’t churn butter, Deirdre has her chopping vegetables, sweeping floors, and doing anything else needed.” With a roll of her eyes, she said, “She carries on as though Deirdre were on the verge of murdering her through too much work.”

  “Maggie,” Mary admonished, as she saw Phoebe flushing with embarrassment. “We’re here because we hoped you would join us as we visit Niamh and her wee babe.”

  Phoebe nodded. “Oh, I’d love to.” She glanced inside her cabin and then looked at her in-laws with embarrassment as she saw the baskets at their feet. “I wish I had something to bring her.”

  “Niamh will enjoy the company,” Maggie said. “Besides, we have enough food for a week, and she won’t eat half of it because Cormac’s not home.”

  “He’s still not home?” Phoebe asked, as she grabbed her cane and shut the door. They walked at a leisurely pace the short distance to Niamh and Cormac’s home, allowing Phoebe to enjoy her time outside and to prevent her from overtaxing her weakened leg.

  “Nay,” Mary said in a mournful voice. “Hopefully within a day or two. I know Niamh is fretting, but there’s nothin’ to be done. He must work when there is work.”

  Phoebe’s eyes lit with delight. “Can you imagine his joy to return home to realize he has a beautiful son?”

  Maggie giggled and looped her arm through Phoebe’s free one. “You’ve never met the wee beast, as Niamh calls him. You don’t know if he’s beautiful or not.”

  Shrugging, Phoebe said, “All babies are. And, with Niamh as his mother, there’s no way he could be anything but handsome.”

  Mary nodded, approval and affection shining in her gaze for Phoebe. “Aye, an’ his father is an attractive man, although you’ve never properly met him. He departed right after your injury, and you were out of your mind with pain the night he was at the house when you were hurt.”

  Phoebe smiled. “It will be nice to meet him.”

  “And Dunmore. You never properly met him at your wedding,” Maggie said. “He’s another family friend. Although he’s busy now, driving his stagecoach.”

  Phoebe bit back a smile as she looked at Mary. Eamon had told her about Dunmore’s interest in Maggie, and Phoebe had witnessed Dunmore watch Maggie with a covetous gaze after the wedding ceremo
ny. However, Maggie persisted in her claim that they were only good friends. Phoebe knew time would tell what their relationship would become.

  She fell back a step as Mary and Maggie led the way into Niamh’s comfortable home. Although it had originally been a one-room cabin, like the one she shared with Eamon, the O’Rourke men had expanded it to have two small rooms off the back, so that Maura had her own space, and Cormac and Niamh had a proper bedroom.

  The three women tiptoed inside, in case the baby was sleeping, but Mary called out a hello when she found Niamh in the rocking chair, breastfeeding her son. Phoebe looked around the large comfortable room with a sofa and chairs scattered around.

  “Where’s Maura?” Maggie asked, as she moved to the kitchen area to place food in the icebox.

  “With Da. He stopped by a while ago to take her on a ramble. Wants to wear her out so she’ll sleep through the night.” She kissed her mum’s cheek and then held out a hand to Phoebe. “’Tis grand to see you, Phoebe. You’re finally out of that bed.”

  Flushing, Phoebe nodded. “Yes, and you have a beautiful son.”

  Niamh nodded, lifting him up to rest on her shoulder as she patted on his back. “Aye, he’s a fine lad, although he waited long enough to finally join us. Now he’s eager to meet his da.” She kissed her son’s head, tucking him under her chin after he gave a satisfactory burp. The baby had arrived a few weeks later than they had thought he would, but he seemed healthy and well.

  Phoebe stroked a gentle hand over his back, as she sat with a relieved sigh on a chair near Niamh. “What’s his name?”

  Niamh smiled. “I don’t know. I haven’t named him.” She smiled at Phoebe’s shocked expression. “I want to wait for Cormac. Doesn’t seem right namin’ him when the man’s away.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Mary said, “although I’ll never understand why you hadn’t decided before he left on his journey.”

  Niamh kissed her son’s downy soft head again, speaking in a soft murmur, “I didn’t want to tempt fate, Mum.”