Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five

by Flightner, Ramona

  Declan gaped at him, before covering his eyes. “I never thought you’d truly accept him. Or me again.”

  Seamus growled with displeasure. “When have I ever given you reason to doubt?” His eyes glowed with hurt. “You dishonor me, your mum, and your entire family with that comment.” When Declan refused to look up at him, Seamus reached forward and clasped Declan’s forearm. “I understand heartache. I understand despair. I understand hopelessness.” He swallowed as he looked into his beloved son’s gaze and saw all he’d described, along with unbearable weariness. “But I also know nothing is permanent. You will find a way to discover joy again. Laughter and happiness again.”

  “How, Da?” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “I wanted to return, triumphant. With a bride and a babe. Instead I return with a wet nurse and a babe who’s not even mine.” He snorted out a scoffing laugh. “Where’s the accomplishment in that?”

  Seamus’s grip on his arm tightened. “You returned, Declan. You returned. That’s what matters. You had enough faith in us to come home. To share your son with us, for, no matter what your head says, your heart knows he’s yours.”

  Declan nodded, ignoring the single tear that coursed down his cheek. “Aye, he’s mine. And heaven help anyone who says differently.”

  Seamus gave a grunt of approval, patting Declan’s arm. “You’ll find love but this time with a worthy woman. With all your brothers around, they won’t allow you to fall for the wiles of another heartless lass.”

  Shaking his head, Declan murmured, “Finn and Eamon couldn’t stop me. They tried, Da. But I wouldn’t listen.”

  “Nay, they didn’t have the courage and the mettle they have now. Eamon’s a married man, and he’s had to face losing the woman he loves. He’d fight you much harder this time.” Seamus smiled. “But now you’ll also have Ardan, Kevin. And me.” He stared into his son’s desolate gaze. “Give yourself time, lad.” He paused. “Forgive yourself, and then you’ll find a way to begin again.”

  Declan nodded, as another tear trickled down his cheek.

  Chapter 5

  A few days later, Declan grabbed a piece of toast and his mug of tea, ducking out of the house, as he ignored the curious stares and questions. He followed Lorena as she walked with a purposeful stride. He noted she paid no attention to the interested looks from men who had wandered away from the main street in town by the levee, called Front Street, her gaze always straight ahead. Declan imagined she’d never deign to smile, for he’d only ever seen her smile with her sister Phoebe, his sister Maggie, or with the incorrigible Mr. Pickens.

  Rather than turn toward Front Street, she veered farther away from the bustling riverfront area. “Where are you going?” he muttered to himself. He paused when she stopped in front of a building that looked like an old restored cabin.

  She extracted a key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. Rather than slamming it shut, she left it wide open.

  His curiosity fully piqued, he wandered to the cabin, walking silently on the small wooden front step. He poked his head in, jumping back as she screamed in fright. “I’m sorry, miss. I never meant to scare you.”

  She stared at him with frank skepticism. “Perhaps not but you’re a horrible spy. I knew you were following me the entire way here.” She held a hand to her chest. “I thought you’d see that I arrived safely and would leave. I never expected you to follow me in here.”

  “How’d you know I was followin’ you?” he sputtered. “And what is this place?” He stared around in confusion, setting down his mug on a crate.

  “I knew,” she said, as she grunted to push him out of the way to hang up her Open sign in bright letters, “because so few men approached me. Or called out impudent comments.”

  Declan scowled. “That isn’t right, miss. You should be able to walk through town without every man leering at you.”

  Rolling her eyes at him, she brushed past him again. “I have a feeling you eyed every attractive woman who came to town too.” When he flushed, she nodded, as though having proven her point. “The only thing I have protecting me is that most men understand they would have to answer to Seamus O’Rourke and his sons were they to harm me. And few are willing to risk his or their wrath.”

  Frowning, Declan leaned against the doorjamb. “That’s all you have protecting you? The threat of violence from my father and brothers?” He considered what she’d said as he ate the piece of toast in a few quick bites. “From me?” At her nod, he swiped his hands clean and frowned at her. “That seems rather feeble.”

  “Perhaps, but it’s better than what I had when I disembarked here a year ago.” She grunted as she lifted a heavy box, panting as she set it on a table.

  Declan looked around the small one-room space and frowned. He had thought she was escaping his parents’ house to have illicit meetings with a lover. Instead this was a room filled with boxes and crates with not even a chair in sight. “What is this place?”

  “Well, it’s not much right now, but it will be Fort Benton’s first bookstore,” she said, a proud gleam in her eye and with a quirk of her lips.

  Declan waited, hoping she would fully smile. However, she sobered at his silence and spun away to attack a box. “A bookstore. Don’t you need shelves and books?”

  She kicked a crate. “I have books. And the crates will be the shelves. For now.”

  When she bent to pick up another box, he rushed forward, gently pushing her aside to lift the heavy box. “You shouldn’t be lifting such heavy boxes. You’ll harm yourself,” he admonished. “Come. I’ll stay here until you have this set up to your satisfaction. Consider me your beast of burden.”

  Lorena flushed and shook her head. “I could never ask you to be here with me, when you have important work at the warehouse.”

  Shrugging, Declan pried open the nearest box and began lifting out titles. “How are we to arrange them?” He glanced over his shoulder, meeting her apprehensive gaze. “I’m not needed there anymore. My younger brothers have taken my place.” He turned away, hiding any bitterness or remorse. “As they should have. I’ve been away too long.”

  “They missed you every day,” she whispered. “Prayed for you.”

  He nodded, his vision blurry, as he stared blindly into the box. “As I did them,” he murmured. “But I couldn’t return any sooner. I had to ensure my son, … my son was safe.” He spun, a bright smile pasted on his face. “Now put me to work, Lorena. There’s quite a bit to be done.”

  * * *

  Hours later, boxes and crates were strewn around the store, and a system for organizing the books had yet to be decided upon. “I don’t see why we don’t just arrange them by type of book. You know? Books women like. Books men like. Bible books.” He shrugged.

  Lorena giggled. “Bible books?”

  He smiled, his gaze lit with happiness as he saw her unfettered joy to be surrounded by so many tomes. “Do you know how many books I’ve unpacked that have to do with sermons? Whoever packed these crates must have thought we were a very pious group.”

  “Or severely lacking in piety,” she said with another giggle. “If they only knew we had a traveling priest, and he preferred the cities of Virginia City and Helena.” She shrugged. “Not that we need a priest that often.”

  “Were Eamon and your sister married by a priest?” he asked, unable to hide his concern.

  “Of course, and your father tried to convince the man to remain here year-round. Said he’d build him a proper church with a small house nearby. But the pious man said this wasn’t the place of his true calling.” She shrugged, as Declan laughed.

  “Sounds like Da. He’d like us all to go to Mass each week. But he understands we can’t.” He smiled at her. “So what do you think of my idea? ’Tis sound, is it not?”

  She stared at him a long moment. “The more time you spend with your family, the more you sound like them again. It’s as though you lost Ireland while you were away from them.”

  He flushed and shook hi
s head. “I lost more than that, lass.” He turned away, his hands on his lean hips. “Now what about the five-and-dime novels over here? And the others over there?” He pointed to the wall on the other side. “Do you want customers to be able to look around and to find what they want? Or are you afraid they’ll steal copies?”

  “Steal?” she asked, with a furrowed brow. “I’d like to think my customers are honest.”

  Declan gave her an incredulous look. “You’ve been in this town a year. Surely you know better.” He paused, swiping at his forehead. “While you think about it, I’ll open the other windows. We need more air.” He moved to the windows on the side and at the rear of the building, frowning, as they were stuck and wouldn’t open. “What’s wrong with your windows?” he asked, as he grunted and pushed with all his might.

  “They stick. Some days they open. Some days they don’t.” She shrugged. “I don’t have the money to replace them.”

  He glared at them. “Aye, and ’tis doubtful spare windows came on a shipment up from Saint Louis.” After another attempt to open one, he gave up. “Better than breakin’ the bloody thing.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “You’re not responsible for anything that happens here, Declan. This is my establishment. It will succeed or fail due to what I do. Or don’t do.”

  He pulled over an upended crate and sat on it. “What made you think about peddlin’ books?” He smiled at her as she sobered. “Da’s willin’ to peddle almost anythin’ if it’ll bring a profit. I’m certain he’ll back you.”

  Flushing, Lorena admitted, “Your father is helping me. I could never do this on my own. He has faith in what I want to create.” When Declan sat with quiet patience to hear what that was, she said, “A successful store, where those who love books can congregate. Where men and women can trade in their books for another one, before they journey farther into the Territory. And a place for residents to meet in the winter that isn’t a saloon or the café.” She flushed.

  Declan smiled. “Sounds lovely, but how will you make it work? Are you lending or selling the books?”

  Lorena appeared deep in thought for a moment. “I’m going to sell the books. If the book is new, like most of the books I have here now, they will be more expensive. However, if a patron wishes to sell me a book, I will purchase it at a reduced price, give the patron a store credit toward more books, and resell it at a higher price to a new patron. I know that I won’t be able to order new books every year and that there will be times when I have more demand than books.”

  Declan tilted his head to the side, as he thought through her plan. “So ’tis like a lending library in a way, although you’ll always end up the winner.”

  Laughing, Lorena nodded. “Yes, in theory. However, I’ve found little rarely works out as I imagined.”

  “What’s the name of your store?” He raised his hands, sweeping wider, as though to indicate a grand name in bold lettering.

  Ducking her head, she said, “I don’t have one. Not yet.” When he gaped at her, she moved around the space, shuffling books from crate to crate. “I never thought this would be more than a dream. Even when Mr. O’Rourke said he would order the books, I never thought they’d arrive. That the steamboat would catch fire. Or that the crates would fall overboard. Or …”

  Declan laughed, his worries seemingly far away, as he looked much younger and less serious. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’ve spent too much time reading those books of yours. You’ve an imagination to match.” He leaned forward as he rested on the crate and made a face, as though he were deep in thought. “How about Lorena’s Library?”

  Immediately shaking her head, Lorena flushed. “No, no, I can’t have it named that. I … It isn’t just mine. Your father invested. It’s part O’Rourke.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Well, we can’t have another O’Rourke name on a building. People would start to think there’s a conspiracy. And your name’s pretty.” He winked at her, crossing his strong arms over his chest, wrinkling his waistcoat. “How about A Reader’s Paradise?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Seems a bit presumptuous, doesn’t it?”

  “If it’s not presumptuous, it won’t be successful. You must have believed someone would want to purchase your books, or you never would have started this store.” He stared at her, fascinated, as he watched her fidget under his close perusal. “Your store won’t prosper if you don’t believe in it. For, if you don’t, why should anyone else?”

  “That’s not fair,” she whispered, her beautiful green eyes filled with hurt.

  “Perhaps not,” he said, as he rose, “but the truth rarely is. Take a leap of faith. Open A Reader’s Paradise, and watch your customers flock to your store. I dare you.”

  * * *

  Declan returned home after being shooed away by Lorena. He fought feeling disgruntled that she wanted time without him in her own store, but he knew she had earned that right. And he knew she would be safe there, as Maggie had stopped in to help.

  He slipped into his parents’ house, eagerly listening for any sign of his son. He’d had too little time with him lately, although Gavin had been thoroughly spoiled with the love lavished on him from his aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Declan froze in place upon entering the living room at the sight of his da, walking a slow circuit around the room, Gavin in his arms, as he chatted to the boy. Gavin’s cheeks were drying from a recent crying spell, and he seemed mesmerized by Seamus’s voice.

  “So you see, my dearest lad, you have to know when the land is fertile and to plant at the perfect time to ensure your crop will receive all the sunshine and water it needs to thrive. Thataway you’ll have enough to feed your family and to sell at market.” He kissed little Gavin’s cheek, swiping away his tears. “Now, my little love, I won’t be seein’ the green shores of Ireland again, but you or your sons might. And I can teach you all I know, so they’ll know what to do.” He sighed, as he rocked in place, his eyes closed. “I don’t have any experience farmin’ here in this barren land, but we’ve enough businesses to keep you occupied. And I suspect your da will find his own way.”

  Declan cleared his throat, unable to smile, nearly overcome with emotions as he stared at his father, talking to his son. When Gavin reached out for Declan, he held out his arms, cradling his son to his chest. “There’s a love,” he murmured, kissing Gavin’s head. “Da?” he murmured. “You still dream of farming? Even after all these years?”

  Seamus ducked his head and appeared chagrined. “Well, there’s no shame to have more than one love when it comes to work. For all work is admirable, if it brings food, shelter, and security to your family.”

  Declan nodded, although he appeared worried. “Aye, but it sounds as though you miss it.”

  “I felt alive diggin’ in the dirt,” Seamus said with an abashed grin. “An’ there’s no shame in admittin’ that.” He paused as he looked at his son. “What is it, lad?”

  “You believe he’ll return someday? To Ireland?”

  Nodding, Seamus ran a hand down his grandson’s back. “Aye, one of my offspring will. I’m certain of it.”

  “You miss it,” Declan whispered.

  “Always. Every day.” Seamus cleared his throat and blinked a few times to diminish any semblance of tears. “Although the yearnin’ for home has decreased with the return of your mum.” He smiled. “I find her presence soothes most aches in my soul.”

  Declan unconsciously mimicked his da’s previous motion, rocking in place with Gavin in his arms, to the point Gavin heaved out a breath and tumbled into sleep, his head butting into Declan’s chin. Grunting, Declan shifted his son, so his head rested on his shoulder. “I’ll forever wish I’d made a more sensible choice.”

  “Did you never think that you did?” Seamus asked, as he studied his son, rocking too, although he wasn’t holding a child. “Did you never consider you’d found a woman who would help teach you the lesson you needed to learn at the time you needed to learn it?”
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br />   Declan closed his eyes, holding his son close. “’Tis hard to admit I was such a fool that I was in need of such a terrible lesson.”

  Seamus sighed, gripping his son’s shoulder. “Ah, lad, that’s when you know you’re most in need of it. I give thanks, every day, that you’ve returned and that you brought Gavin with you. That you were not denied the joys of raisin’ your beautiful boy.”

  Suddenly fighting a deep emotion, Declan whispered, “How do you do it? How do you remain so filled with hope and joy?” He sniffled. “How do you rejoice, when all I feel is an unrelenting despair?”

  Seamus gripped both shoulders, as though he could take his son and grandson into his arms and shelter them from all harm. From all of life’s pain. “Never will I lose hope. If the past few years have taught me anythin’, ’tis that I should hope and always keep faith.”

  Declan sighed into Gavin’s light-brown hair, ruffling it with his deep exhalation.

  “One day, you’ll forgive yourself. And you’ll come to realize ’tis all right to love another.” He smiled, as his son gaped at him incredulously.

  “I’ll never love again,” Declan proclaimed.

  “Ah, lad, never’s a long time for a man with such a big heart.” Seamus squeezed his shoulders again and slipped from the room, leaving Declan deep in thought.

  * * *

  Lorena looked up from her book to find a large shadow in the doorway. Although she admonished herself for her instinctual fear, her breath caught, and she waited to see what the stranger would do. When Declan O’Rourke entered, she let out her pent-up breath and flushed with embarrassment. “You didn’t have to scare me into a witless ninny,” she snapped.

  “I scared you?” he asked, as he raised an eyebrow. “A man standing on your library’s doorstep frightened you?” He shook his head, as he scratched at his neck. “I worry you won’t have much success if you can’t even chat with the customers because you’ve fainted away in fear at their mere presence.”