by West, Everly
She considered both Wesley and Michael. It was obvious both were brought up to be respectful and showed good manners. Wesley carried himself with assurance and grace, while Michael was a bit more reserved. But at the same time, there was a subtle self-confidence about Michael.
“You’re right, Roscoe. I think both men are quite suitable. Forgive me for sounding judgmental, I don’t mean to be.”
Roscoe shook his head. “Don't apologize. If there’s a time to be straightforward with your opinions, it’s when considering your children’s futures.”
And with that, he wandered away. “I best get some wood to make a stronger fence.”
Earlene lifted her face to the sun and smiled. She couldn’t wait to attend her weekly meeting at the Ladies Club. She had so much wonderful news to share.
* * *
Jane allowed Michael to guide her as they walked the short distance from the wagon to a cusp of trees. Centered between them was a patch of tall bushes that had piqued her curiosity.
“I’d never noticed these before,” Jane said, peering down at the thorny branches. “Looks like some kind of berry.”
“Boysenberry?” Michael asked.
Jane chuckled. “I’m not sure. This is more Beth’s forte. She loves picking berries and searching out edible plants.”
He walked a few feet away and leaned against the tree as she plucked a blue fruit and sniffed it.
Jane looked to him. “I admit that I don’t know you well. However, it seems to me that you’re very pensive today.”
Gaze downcast, he seemed to be considering how to respond. Finally, he let out a long breath. “I am not sure why I’m here. It’s obvious we are from two very different worlds. It was a surprise that your father didn’t run me off when I asked to call on you.”
Whatever he was getting to, it wasn’t good. By the fact he didn’t meet her gaze, it was obvious he was searching for a way out of having to call again.
“Why did you ask then?” Jane couldn’t help the anger at the edges of her voice. “I certainly didn’t expect it, nor did I encourage you to.”
When he shrugged, she wanted to stalk closer and slap him. “It was the honorable thing to do after what happened between us.”
“It was but a kiss. People kiss all the time. A kiss is neither a contract nor an obligation.”
The sting of tears threatening was the last thing she needed. Jane turned on her heel and walked a few feet away. What now? Knowing Michael had no plans for a future between them affected her in a surprising way. Chest tightened with hurt, she wanted nothing more than to return home immediately and begin the process of forgetting Michael O’Leary existed.
“Take me home.”
A shot rang out. The startled horse lifted its head and took off toward the road, away from the sound. At the same time, Michael threw her to the ground, his large body over hers protectively.
Jane struggled to shove him off. “That’s probably Father testing the stupid guns you brought back. He shoots into the air.”
“It didn’t sound like he shot in our direction.” He didn’t make to move, lifting his head and looking around.
Just then a second shot and a third echoed.
Once again, she shoved at him. “Get off me and take me home.”
“Don’t stand up just yet.” Michael lifted, but only to his knees. “Mr. Farnsworth!”
The response was another shot, this one closer. The horse trotted a bit farther.
“Father!” Jane screamed. “Stop shooting at once!”
There was silence and then in the distance, her father, along with Ian, appeared. Both waved as if it was the most normal thing for her to be on the ground with a man.
Scrambling to stand with her hands on her hips, Jane glared at them as they neared. “You could have killed me.”
“We shot in the air,” her father replied with a wide grin and turned to Michael. “Besides, looks like Michael kept you safe from attack.”
With a matching grin, Ian looked from her to Michael and held up a rifle. “I’d say it works better than when it was new.”
Too mad to say anything, Jane instead pictured kicking the three men when, for the next few moments, they discussed the guns.
Jane went to her father and pulled out an old revolver from a sack slug across his body. She held it up, cocked it and shot.
Ian and her father dropped to the ground and, once again, Michael tackled her, snatching the gun away.
“What on earth are you doing?” her father admonished. “That gun is not for a woman to shoot. You could’ve flinched and killed one of us.”
“Giving you a taste of your own medicine,” Jane said, doing her best to ignore the fact Michael had pulled her up and held her against his body. It was most improper to be doing so in front of her father, who didn’t seem to notice.
She shoved him away. “Take me home. I’m through with the lot of you. Especially you.” Jane glared at Michael. “Father, Mr. O’Leary will no longer call on me. He considers me spoiled and too above his station to court.”
“That’s not true,” Michael interjected. “I don’t think you are spoiled.”
“Ugh!” Jane looked around for the wagon only to find it gone. “Where’s the horse?”
“You scared him off,” the ever-helpful Ian replied. “He went that way.” He pointed toward her home.
Her father huffed. “Come, Ian. I say we look for something to kill.” They started off.
“What about me? How will I get home?” Jane said to her father’s back. “Father?”
With a wave, he dismissed her. “Michael will see you home.”
She turned to her escort who suddenly found the trees most interesting. “This is the worst attempt at courting ever.” When he looked to her, she lifted her hand to stop him from saying anything. “Then again, the way things went, it suited your purposes perfectly.”
Lifting her skirts, she stepped over a fallen branch and headed toward the road. “I hate men,” Jane mumbled. “Arrogant, annoying beasts. All of them. Every single one of them.”
“What did you say?” Michael caught up to her.
Jane slid a narrow-eyed look and glared at him. “You don’t have to walk me back.”
“My horse and wagon headed toward your house. Besides, I am responsible for your safety.”
With a mirthless chuckle, she rolled her eyes. “The always honorable Mr. O’Leary.”
He took her arm and turned her to face him. “I am not indifferent to you. Because of that, I don’t want to do anything that you’ll resent me for in the future.”
This time, Jane couldn’t help but react. She kicked him soundly in the leg. Michael’s eyes widened and he hopped in a circle. “Ouch, that really hurt.”
“Good,” Jane said, stalking away. “Now you know how I feel.”
His footsteps just behind her only made Jane angrier. She needed privacy to cry, to scream and to allow the emotions out. How was it possible the same man she first kissed would hurt her so soon after?
A sniff escaped and she wanted to run away and put distance between them. As if a barrier was broken, tears began to flow freely down her face. Thankfully, Michael remained just behind her so, hopefully, he wouldn’t know.
“Jane,” his voice just behind her brought a gasp. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry.”
He hurried around her and immediately pulled her against him, his mouth covering hers. There was urgency, a type of passion she struggled to understand. With one arm around her waist, his free hand cupped the back of her head in a most tender embrace.
When he broke off the kiss, harsh breaths fanned past her ear and his chest lifted and lowered against her own. “I’m an idiot. I don’t know the first thing about courtship and all that. I’m handling this all wrong.”
Jane pushed against his chest, not at all indifferent to the feel of his hard muscles beneath her palms. “I just want to go home.” When he didn’t budge, she pushed her face into his shoulder. “Tak
e me home. You don’t have to explain anything. It’s obvious you don’t wish to see me again.”
“No, that’s not true,” Michael replied, pulling her face to his and once again pressing his lips to hers in a softer kiss this time. “It would be a dream to see you every single day.”
Could he make things more confusing? Her mind whirled with what to say in return. But she wasn’t experienced enough in the matters of relationships, if theirs could even be called that.
“You can’t be holding me like this. In broad daylight. My father could come upon us.” When she pushed away, he relaxed his arms enough for them not to be touching, but he kept her in his embrace.
“What do you want from me, Michael? You don’t wish to court me and, at the same time, you act as if we are.”
This time, he released her. But he took her right hand. “Come sit down. Let me tell you my story. I think by the end of it, you’ll understand why I will never be the right man for you.”
Chapter 8
Memories he never wanted to revisit, a past he’d done his best to bury for years, pressed across his shoulders like boulders. Michael guided an upset Jane to a fallen tree and then took off his jacket for her to sit on. Once she settled, he waited for her to relax.
The way she smoothed her hair back and repined loose tendrils was so feminine and graceful. She smoothed her skirts and kept busy for a few moments, composing herself. When she finally looked to him, Jane was the picture of perfection. With legs to one side and clamped hands in front, she was beauty, grace and poise. Despite the slight reddening of her eyes and bruised lips, in that moment, the beauty seemed untouchable. Out of his reach someone he could never aspire to touch, much less kiss. And yet, not only had her father agreed to him calling on her, but also she’d allowed his caresses.
Michael cleared his throat. “I left Ireland because I am wanted by the law.”
When she didn’t react, he continued. “After my mother died, my father did his best to raise four of us. My three brothers left one by one when growing up. Eventually my da and I went to live with the eldest, Patrick. Da took to drinking, rarely coming home. Not wanting to be a burden to my brother who had a wife and two young ones, I spent most of my days in the streets.”
The memory of stealing with a band of boys and later progressing to thievery was not something he was proud of.
“I took to stealing and other illegal acts, but thieving mostly.” He let out a breath. “Until one day, a group of boys and I robbed a shop. The owner had a gun and shot at us. One of my companions wrestled it away and killed him.”
Michael paused for a moment. “Everyone ran. I was dumb. All I could think was to grab what I could before leaving. So I got caught and the murder was pinned on me.”
“You escaped.”
“Yes, I managed to get away. I was just a kid, fourteen, so they weren’t overly careful about keeping me locked up.”
She studied him in silence, so he continued. “Another brother, John, helped me get to the shipyards. I stole aboard a ship not knowing where it was headed and ended up in America. My life in the streets prepared me for survival here. Then I joined the military, fighting for the north.”
“How did you end up here?” As far as he could see, there wasn’t any judgment in her expression, mostly just curiosity.
The memories of hardship invaded, but he pushed them away. “Working for the railroad. It was the only job I could get. I worked and saved up to start my own business as a gunsmith.”
“Sounds to me like you persevered despite a harsh life. You should be proud, not apologetic.” She cocked her head to one side. “Now, can you explain to me which part you expect me to find appalling?”
Mind awhirl, Michael drove toward town an hour later after escorting Jane home.
Once he’d taken her home, she’d gone up the steps past the porch and directly inside, closing the door firmly behind her.
The sound had vibrated through the fog in his head and Michael realized he’d either done the right thing in breaking things off or made the biggest mistake of his life.
* * *
It had been two week since he’d seen Jane and, each day, he searched for her when looking out the window. A line of guns, pistols and rifles, lay on the table in front of him as he inspected them one by one. His assistant, Hank, stood at the doorway, his expression eager as he waited for Michael’s assessment of his work.
“Want to go pick up something to eat? Get a couple pot pies from across the way?” Michael asked after his stomach growled loudly.
Hank nodded. “Sure thing, Boss.” The young man grinned knowing Michael hadn’t found fault in his work. “How many?”
“Just one for me. Leave the door open. The breeze feels good.”
After a few minutes, the sound of feminine voices outside got Michael’s attention. He hurried to the door. Several women were gathered at the corner just a few feet from his door. He recognized Sybil Farnsworth among them. She motioned across the street. “I vote for a visit to the mercantile first.” Her companions all turned in the direction she pointed as Michael searched the faces for Jane.
“She’s with Mother, over by the seamstress shop,” Beth, who he’d not noticed, informed him.
He turned to face Beth and found that Wesley stood next to her. The man nodded in greeting and he did the same. “I hope you’re happy,” Beth said. “Jane hasn’t been in good humor since the day you came to call.”
Michael scowled. “I doubt I affect her that much.”
It was hard to read Beth’s expression, but he knew she wasn’t at all happy with him. “We should catch up with Sybil. Mother is afraid she’ll lead my cousins into mischief.” She slid a gloved hand through Wesley’s arm. “Have a good day, Michael.”
“You as well.”
Wesley gave him a knowing look. Obviously, he was just as confused about women.
Unable to keep from it, Michael retrieved his keys, locked the door and walked toward the seamstress shop. Even if it wasn’t a good idea, he wanted to get a glimpse of Jane.
Every day, he’d kept vigil to no avail. Then someone had mentioned the Ladies Club would be meeting that week and he’d been extra vigilant. He had to see Jane. He missed her and, although he wasn’t sure about what, he hoped to speak to her.
A woman walked out of the seamstress shop and stood for a long moment looking in the opposite direction of where he stood. Although he couldn’t make out her features, Michael instinctively knew it was Jane. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and crossed the road.
Obviously, she’d not caught sight of him yet as she walked in a leisurely manner, looking into the bakery window. After a quick wave of acknowledgement, she went into the shop.
The small bell over the doorway jingled when Michael stepped through. He pretended interest in a basket of rolls waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. The aroma of freshly baking bread made his stomach grumble and he realized it was past his usual midday mealtime.
“Michael, how are you?” the baker called out in greeting. “I have some warm bread, just out of the oven.”
Jane whirled around, her eyes round and then her brows lowered into a frown.
“How are you, Jane?” Michael asked then slid a glance to the baker who held a large piece of bread up with tongs. “I’ll take it.”
She looked at the bread and then to him. “I’m well, thank you.”
When she made to go around him, Michael blocked her path. “Can I speak to you?”
Both turned to the baker who unapologetically watched them. The man shrugged. “I better go check the oven.” He took a step backward, still watching them, and stopped.
“Did you have some sort of revelation you wish to share with me, Mr. O’Leary?” Jane hitched her chin up and looked down her nose.
“Michael.”
She narrowed her eyes. Every cell of his body wanted to touch her and Michael fought not to reach for her hand.
Her gaze slid to the
window. “The weather is delightful today. I best get going and enjoy it.”
Once again, she took a step sideways and he did as well. “Your sister said you’ve not been well.”
“I’m in perfect health. I am not sure why my sister would say such a thing. Which sister?”
“Beth. Not health wise, but of ill humor.”
Her lips curved into a fetching, wry smile. “And you presume to be the reason.” She let out a breath. “I will admit it. You are part of the reason. The other part is that I have been considering a suitor and it takes all my attention.”
His chest constricted. “A suitor?”
“I am of marriageable age. It’s time to for all this nonsense to end. I am eager to marry and start a family.”
Those were the last words he wanted to hear. Although she would never be his, it didn't sit well that she was considering another man. It was selfish of him, Michael realized, but it didn’t stop the idea of it from angering him.
“Who is this suitor?”
“That is none of your business. Now, if you will please move aside and allow me to leave, I’d appreciate it.”
“Mr. O’Leary.” Earlene Farnsworth had entered without either of them realizing it. “It’s fortunate that you’re here. My husband asked that I stop by and invite you for supper tomorrow night. He has some business to discuss and I also believe he wishes to make some purchases.”
Jane leaned sideways to glare at her mother. “Are you sure Father doesn’t plan to come here and see Mr. O’Leary? It’s presumptuous of us to take so much of his time.”
“Not at all,” Michael replied, turning to the older woman who looked from him to her daughter as if assessing the situation. Her keen gaze moved to his hand, which he’d lifted to block Jane from passing.
Earlene gave him a knowing look and he lowered his hand and shifted just enough for Jane to go around him. “See that you are at our house at five o’clock sharp, young man.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Without a backward glance, Jane swept through the door, her head held high.