Pioneer Yearning: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Three

by Ramona Flightner

  Niamh closed her eyes and fisted a hand on top of the bureau. “I never want anything to befall my girl, but I dread her ever being as naive, as stupid, as I was.”

  Maggie squeezed her arm and shook her head. “She won’t be, Niamh, for, unlike you, she has you.” Maggie bit her lip. “And, if she’s very lucky, and her mother isn’t a fool, she’ll have a man who loves her as much as a father to raise her. And to protect her.”

  Niamh nodded, turning back to polish. When her mother’s frantic voice rang out from downstairs, calling for Niamh, her polishing rag dropped to the floor. Niamh raced from the room, with Maggie on her heels.

  “Mum?” Niamh asked, panting and red-faced, her gaze filled with panic as she saw her mother sitting in a rocking chair with Maura in her arms.

  Mary met Niamh’s gaze, unable to hide the terror in hers and reached out a hand to her daughter. “I just picked her up,” she whispered. “I thought she’d slept too long and wanted time with my granddaughter.” She fought a sob. “She’s burnin’ up, Niamh. An’ havin’ trouble breathin’.” A tear leaked down Mary’s cheek and dripped onto Maura’s head as she continued to hold her granddaughter.

  “No!” Niamh screamed, reaching for her daughter. Her hands roved over her, frantic and shaking, as her soft touch confirmed the truth of her mother’s words. “No,” she cried, as she fought tears. “We will see her through this, Mum. We have to.”

  Mary nodded, rocking Maura in her arms, as she crooned a soft lullaby to her.

  Maggie moved to Niamh, wrapping an arm around her sister’s shoulder and pulling her close. “We’ll find a way to lower her fever and to keep her healthy, Niamh.”

  “No doctor’s in town,” Niamh said dumbly. “He left with Dunmore and Cormac. Wanted to be in a place during winter where he’d have more patients.” She swayed in place before falling to her knees. “What will we do with no doctor?”

  Maggie smiled. “He isn’t the only one with knowledge.” Her smile froze when she looked to the living room doorway. “Oh, hello,” she said with an impersonal smile. She glanced at her mother and sister, who were preoccupied with her niece, and moved in Madam Nora’s direction. “You’ve arrived in the midst of our little crisis.”

  Nora stood in the hallway with a small bag at her feet. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I had thought I’d be expected. No one answered my knock at the back door, and I had no desire to again be ignored at the front door.”

  Maggie gave a half shrug of resignation. “You’ll be living here, so you should feel free to come and go as you please.” She flushed. “I’m afraid Niamh and I didn’t completely finish cleaning your room. It’s almost ready.” She stilled when the Madam placed a soft hold on her forearm and nodded to the scene of Mary and Niamh with Maura. “Maura’s ill,” Maggie whispered, answering the unspoken question. “We must find a way to heal her.”

  Madam Nora nodded. “Never fear. Where there is knowledge, and a will, there is a way. I have books, plenty of them, in my office. After I’m settled, you and I will return to determine what we need.”

  Maggie smiled delightedly and, with an added spring in her step, motioned for the Madam to follow her.

  Niamh sat in the room she shared with Maura on the first floor, watching as Maura slept. She prayed for Maura’s fever to break, for the deep cough to resolve, and for her baby to be the free-spirited girl racing around her parents’ house once again. Yearning for Cormac’s strong arms to wrap around her, reassuring her that everything would be fine, Niamh pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  Although she attempted to ignore her sorrow at Cormac’s absence, she was unable to deny her need to have him here with her now. He had always comforted her when he was in town, and the knowledge that he would return had encouraged her to continue to smile and to find moments of joy in each day. Now she feared he would never return to her. That she had ruined her chance with him. Due to her fear and her cowardice. She sighed as she rubbed her head and stared at her sick daughter. “What if I’m never brave enough for him?” she whispered aloud, before giving voice to her greatest fear. “What if I lose them both?”

  She shivered, uncertain she would survive such loss. With a strength of will borne of desperation and self-preservation, she forced herself to think of something else. The faint light, her unimaginable exhaustion, and the late hour reminded her of the first days and months after the birth of Maura. Niamh hadn’t known what she was doing, and, without her mother or an aunt to guide her, she had stumbled and had to find her way on her own. Her gaze was unfocused as she stared at a candle flame, a memory from that time returning to her.

  She barely had the energy to push her foot to rock the chair, but she managed to keep the chair in motion, both to comfort herself and her daughter, barely one month old. Niamh breathed deeply, inhaling the sweetest scent imaginable. A scent that she knew would keep her enthralled and would ensure her daughter’s protection forever. With bleary-eyed wonder, she gazed at the perfection of her baby. Chubby cheeks, silky soft to the touch and pearly white. A downy soft head of hair that made Niamh want to rub a gentle hand over it or give it a kiss. Ten perfect little toes and ten perfect little fingers to squeeze and to marvel at. How had such a beautiful being come from her?

  Niamh chuckled, her finger caressing one of Maura’s cheeks. Then Maura opened her mouth, making a pop noise as she finished breastfeeding. “Are you done then, you wee glutton?” Niamh teased, with a kiss to her daughter’s head, as she did up the front of her dress. “Come. Let me change you, and then we can both sleep a few hours.”

  “Stop your caterwauling,” Connor bellowed. “Don’t you know some of us like to sleep when it’s dark?”

  Niamh made a soothing noise as Maura’s eyes widened with alarm at the loud, abrading noise. However, with Niamh’s comfort, Maura settled again. Soon Niamh had her in a small bassinette, which her da had had a local man make for her.

  With a satisfied groan, Niamh crawled back into bed, hopeful for an hour or two of sleep before she had to rise again. However, Connor was awake, agitated, and eager for an argument. She rolled onto her side, her back to him, hopeful he would calm and would allow her to rest.

  “You think rolling away from me, ignoring your husband, is going to make me forget all the duties you are shirking because you are spoiling that brat?”

  She gasped, rolling onto her back to stare at him with wide-eyed shock. “Brat? She’s barely a month old. How can you say such a thing?”

  He leaned on one elbow and glared down at her. “She takes up all your time, energy, and focus. You have nothing left for me or our home. Tonight, there wasn’t even dinner ready when I was hungry.”

  “For the love of God, Connor, I just had a baby. One month ago. You know my father said you could eat with them any time you needed to.”

  “Like I’d want to be surrounded by O’Rourkes,” he hissed. “And watch them turn their noses up at me because they are more successful than I am?” He shook his head. “No. I refuse to be their nightly entertainment.”

  “That’s not how it would be,” she coaxed. “They’d get to know you better. And perhaps you could start working at the warehouse or the store.”

  “I work! I earn money at the gambling tables!” he snapped. “I have no need of their charity.” His eyes flashed with anger, and his cheeks were flushed. “You think you’re cunning, but you aren’t, Niamh.” At the flash of uncertainty in her gaze, he smiled with satisfaction. “You will cease shirking your duties. You will focus your attentions on me, rather than that mewling excuse for a baby.”

  “Please, Connor, she’s ours. She’s beautiful and precious.”

  He leaned over her, his gaze darkened with loathing. “No, she’s worthless. Because you gave me a daughter. A daughter, Niamh!” His breath came out in agitated pants. “How could you humiliate me like that? You know that a man, like me, always deserved sons. Not a worthless daughter.”

  “Daughters aren’t worthless,” Niamh s
aid in a quavering voice, her eyes filled with tears she fought to keep from shedding.

  “Of course they are. They grow up to be women, who are only a burden and are only good for two things. Pleasing a man and giving him sons.” He stared at her derisively. “You’ve failed in the two things you were meant to do.” He flopped onto his back with a sigh of disgust. “And I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life. I can’t believe fate has been so cruel to me.”

  Niamh rolled onto her side, curling into herself, as though to find a way to protect herself from his harsh words. However, she had no armor that could prevent his words from piercing her dreams and the softest, gentlest part of her. When she heard him begin to snore, she gave in to her tears, sobbing into her pillow.

  Niamh jolted when the door opened, her gaze darting to the woman standing in the doorway. “Madam,” she rasped. “I never thought to see you here.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” the Madam asked, an amused glint in her gaze. “I live here now. Well, at least until you have the sense to marry again. And I work odd hours at the Bordello.”

  Niamh glanced outside, but the dawn’s rays seemed hours away. “I would think you’d be needed there at this hour.”

  Nora waved away Niamh’s concern. “It’s a quiet night. Most of my girls ended up spending the evening playing cards with each other, rather than entertaining any men. I fear they’ll spend too many evenings like this as winter settles in.” She smiled wryly. “I tell them to enjoy such times, for they’ll be busy again come spring with the arrival of the steamboats.”

  Niamh stared at her with fascination. “Don’t you have any remorse for the life you are allowing those women to lead?” She shivered as though at the thought.

  Nora shrugged and sat on one of the wooden chairs near Niamh, her intelligent gaze roving over a sleeping Maura. “Very little. I have never coerced a woman into this life. And I know that all of them would have suffered a fate far worse than the one they are currently living, had they not joined me at the Bordello.” She nodded as Niamh gaped at her. “Alone, starving, perhaps even murdered. I provide them with food, shelter, and protection. Ezra is a good man and will never allow anyone to harm them.”

  Niamh frowned and shook her head. “It still seems … like a horrible choice,” she whispered.

  “Not all have family, Niamh,” Nora said in a gentle voice filled with soft rapprochement. “Few are fortunate enough to have a father like Seamus.”

  Niamh nodded and closed her eyes.

  “And even fewer have a mother like Mary.”

  She stiffened at Nora’s words. “You barely know her,” Niamh rasped. “How can you say such a thing?”

  Nora tapped Niamh on her arm and murmured, “I’ve never met a mother willing to have a Madam move into her home to protect her daughter and granddaughter. Mary expressed no concern for herself or her reputation. She has so much faith in her husband that she is not threatened by me. And she has the strength of character to stand up to any and all censure that will come her way by small-minded townsfolk. All because she loves her daughter.”

  Nora paused as she saw Niamh consider her words. “I’ve met few, in all my travels, fortunate enough to have a Seamus in their lives, never mind a Mary. You are doubly blessed.” She rose. “I will continue to pray your daughter returns to good health.”

  Niamh sat in stunned silence, as she watched the Madam slip from the room.

  Three days after his arrival in Virginia City, Cormac wandered up and down the boardwalk of his new town, marveling at the town carved into the narrow gulch. Although he knew he should feel at home, as one frontier town was little different from another, he felt a wave a longing for his home in Fort Benton. For the people he had left behind. For those who considered him family.

  He wished he had had the sense to return to Fort Benton with Dunmore. Now that Cormac was stuck here until spring, all he yearned for was to be there. To see the cliffs gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. To watch the mighty Missouri change with the seasons. To see Niamh again, and, if there was any mercy in this world, to hold her in his arms once more.

  Although he knew Niamh had memories and fears to overcome, he realized he wanted to be the one to help her conquer them. He paused and closed his eyes, as he let out a deep breath. “Please want me to be the one,” he whispered. “I couldn’t bear for you to find another man, anyone other than me.” He ducked his head and slammed his hand against a nearby wall at the futility of his situation.

  “Cormac?” called out a distantly familiar voice. “Why are you attacking my wall?”

  Cormac’s head jerked up at the sound of his name, and he stared with bleary eyes for a moment at a familiar man. “Buford? What are you doing here? I thought you went to Helena.” He shook his head in confusion at seeing Buford Hunt in Virginia City. His paunch was larger and his hair thinner, although his smile appeared more genuine as he stared at Cormac.

  “I own this café. I took what I earned from selling my business in Fort Benton and purchased this one. Much more profitable to run an establishment in a town that has commerce more than only a few months a year.”

  Cormac fought a smile. “Hopefully you have as good a cook as Deirdre.”

  Buford made a grunt of disgust and then spoke in a low voice, in case someone was listening in. “I doubt I’ll ever find a cook as good as Deirdre. But my cook is good, and the customers come back again, even though more options are available in this town.”

  “Well, congratulations, Buford.” Cormac pushed away from the café. “I ate somewhere else last night.” He waved at a forgettable place a little ways down the boardwalk. “If your food is better, you don’t have much competition.”

  Clapping Cormac on the back, Buford urged him inside. “Come in. Tell me all the news about Fort Benton. Although I’m enjoying my life here, I do miss everyone there.” He fought a chagrined smile. “Even the meddling O’Rourkes.”

  After he had sat and wrapped his hands around the coffee mug to warm them up, Cormac speared Buford with a warning look. “You know better than to speak against the O’Rourkes with me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t so sure. Seein’ as you’re here, and they’re there. Thought you might have had a falling out finally with your brother or one of them.”

  Cormac paled and shook his head, as any levity seeped away at the mention of his brother. “You didn’t hear,” he murmured. “Connor died. A few weeks ago.” He cleared his throat and shook his head again, as though to dispel the reality of his brother’s death.

  Buford sat with a thud at a chair across from him. “Oh, now, son, I’m sorry. I never took to him, but I would never have wished him ill.” After a moment, his gaze turned calculating. “How’s his widow?”

  Cormac sent a warning glare at Buford, earning a grunt of satisfaction from the older man. “Mourning,” Cormac said, hissing as he burned his tongue on a sip of the too-hot coffee.

  “I’d think a smart man would remain in town to offer a shoulder as it’s needed.”

  “Buford,” Cormac said, unable to hide a small smile at the man’s incorrigible comment. “If Dunmore hadn’t already left for Fort Benton, I’d be on my way with him. I’ve realized Fort Benton’s home, and I miss it.”

  Buford stared at him with confusion. “Dunmore hasn’t left yet. He plans to depart tomorrow. I’m certain you can find him at the livery.”

  Cormac froze at the news, staring slack-jawed at Buford, as the café owner nodded at him to reassure he wasn’t lying. After a moment, Cormac rose and squeezed Buford on the shoulder, before spinning to race to the livery. Upon his entry into the darkened interior, he paused to allow his eyes to adjust. “Dunmore?” he called out.

  After a moment, Dunmore poked his head out of a room toward the back of the livery. “I thought you’d never come to your senses.”

  “And I thought you were more worried about the weather.”

  Dunmore ambled toward him and shrugged. His lanky frame belied a steely strength,
while his relaxed appearance hid his cautious nature. Dunmore’s blue-green eyes glinted with frustration as he stared at Cormac. “I was eager to find someone, but he evaded me again.” He kicked at a dried piece of horse dung, launching it against a stall door.

  Cormac studied him a long moment and then whispered, “Jacques Bergeron.” At Dunmore’s nod, Cormac sighed. “Maggie thinks of you as a brother.”

  “Perhaps, but she’s young yet and just turned eighteen. And I’m not so decrepit I can’t wait a few years for her to discover I’m more than a sibling.” No bitterness laced his tone, nor did he appear impatient with his current predicament. “However, I promised Seamus I’d keep an ear out for the man’s whereabouts, and I know Bergeron’s had a patch of luck. He won’t return with me this trip, as I expect to have only one passenger, but I fear he’ll return next season.”

  Cormac took a step toward Dunmore. “I’m your passenger.”

  “Of course you are, unless you truly are an eejit, as the O’Rourkes would call you.” He clapped Cormac on the shoulder. “I’m to the bathhouse. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”

  Cormac nodded, watching Dunmore leave, a sense of peace filling Cormac that he would be in Fort Benton by week’s end.

  Chapter 7

  Mary walked the short distance to the café, opting to take the long route there and to walk by the river. She relished every moment she spent with her family but also needed a few moments to herself each day. Pausing to stare at the muddy river water, she said a silent prayer that Maura would improve and that Niamh would find the happiness that had always eluded her. Although Mary worried about her three sons, who were so far away in Saint Louis for the winter, she tried not to focus her concern on them. As Seamus coaxed her during their quiet time together at night, she needed to have faith in their judgment and good sense. She refused to believe they would not return to her, for she could not imagine their family remaining apart for longer than this one winter season.