“Lo!” Declan cried out, lurching up as he woke with a start. “Are you well? What do you need?” He reached for a glass of water, holding it to her lips, as he cupped the back of her head. “Shh, darlin’, you’re all right. No one will hurt you. You’re fine.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Of course I’m fine. I’m in my bedroom. Why are you sleeping here and not with the other boys?” She rubbed at her eyes. “Oh, why is my throat so dry, and why do my eyes feel like I have sandpaper in them?”
Declan stared at her with a deep sorrow. “Don’t you remember, lass?” He waited, as she stared at him in confusion. He sat in the chair beside her bed with shoulders hunched in an oversize nightshirt that gave this moment a feeling of intimacy. As though they were much more than friends. “Rest, lass,” he murmured, as he waited for her to ease onto her side again in bed. “There was a fire—”
“Fire,” she breathed, her eyes widening with horror and fear. “I remember smoke.” She closed her eyes, as Declan remained quiet, holding her hand. “And the front door was blocked with flames. I couldn’t get out. And then …” She shrugged. “I remember nothing.”
He swiped a hand over her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek. “By the time I got there, the front door was blocked outside by a fallen beam.” His gaze swirled with panic, as he reenvisioned the scene. “Kevin came runnin’ with an ax from the store, an’ we hacked another opening.” His thumb continued to play over her soft skin, reminding them both that she was alive and well.
She reached forward, her hand shaking, as it stroked his brows, brushing at a lock of ebony hair. “I’m fine. I’m here,” she whispered.
His arms reached around her, gathering her up to haul her onto his lap with a groan. “Let me hold you,” he pleaded. “I … I need to know you’re well.”
“You and your family saved me,” she whispered into his ear, after she settled with her arms wrapped around his neck.
“If we hadn’t, someone else would have,” he murmured, holding her close.
She backed away, cupping his face in her palms. “No, Declan. Everyone else would have assumed I was already at your home. None would have searched for me.” She bit her lip, as her eyes filled with tears. “My books?”
He shook his head, his thumb swiping at her tear. “I’m sorry, love. I focused on you. By the time I knew you were safe, there was no way to stop the fire or to save anything.” He swallowed. “The building burned to the ground.”
“Everything gone?” she whispered. “What will I do?” She opened and closed her mouth a few times, as though searching for words, before collapsing against his chest. “I’m a pauper. I have nothing and no one.”
Declan ran a soothing hand down her back. “You know that’s not true, lass. You have the O’Rourkes. We’re behind you. And we’ll never let you be alone.” He cleared his throat, as though uncomfortable. “Unless you want to be.”
She pressed into his embrace, shaking ever-so-slightly as the shock of her loss settled over her. “I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want …” She stilled when he gasped and cried out, as her hands touched his back. “Declan?”
“Don’t touch my back,” he rasped in a pain-laced voice. “God, ’tis like it’s still on fire.” He rested his head on her shoulder, as he shuddered, while trying to corral the pain.
Pushing back from his embrace, Lorena studied him, paling as she saw the sweat on his brow and the fierce concentration as he took deep breaths to marshal the strength to beat back the pain he felt. “Declan?” she whispered. “What happened?”
He opened his eyes, causing her to gasp at the agony in his gaze. “Somethin’ fell on my back, while I carried you out. I ignored it, but it burned my skin.” He held on to her when she attempted to scramble from his hold. “No, Lo, … Lorena, let me hold you. Just … don’t touch my back.”
She gripped his strong arms, tears leaking down her cheeks. “How can you be so strong and worry about me, when you’re the one injured? You must go to bed and sleep.”
His blue eyes shone with joy and a hint of teasing, as he looked at her. “I did sleep. And knowing you’re well is the best tonic I’ll ever receive.” He kissed her forehead. “Come, Lorena,” he murmured into her ear in his deep voice, earning a shiver. “Let me hold you a little longer, before we are disturbed.”
She relaxed into his embrace, attempting to convince herself that all she felt was gratitude and friendship toward Declan. She refused to admit the depth of her lie.
Chapter 9
The following day, Lorena stood in front of the burned-out shell of her business, a resolute expression pasted on. Inside, she was howling and weeping and wailing at fate. Outside, she stared dully at the ruined embodiment of her dreams. She gripped her hands tightly, so that her fingernails gouged her palms, the pain preventing tears from coursing down her cheeks.
“Oh, my poor niece,” Uriah Chaffee huffed out, as he stood beside her, surveying the wreckage. “How you must be so devastated to see your dreams go up in smoke.” He lifted his hand, as though to indicate smoke rising in the air. “To know you will be dependent on the O’Rourkes forever.”
She refused to look at him. “This is a minor setback.”
He huffed out an astonished breath, as he shifted to stare at her, his ever-expanding paunch bumping into her side. “You call the loss of everything from Saint Louis a ‘minor setback’?” He shook his head in stupefaction. “Seamus might be generous, but he’s a businessman. He expects to earn his money back from what he invested in you.”
Gasping, Lorena stared in horror at her uncle. “How do you know about that?”
“I’m a lawyer. People talk to me,” he said with pride, as he hooked his thumbs through his waistcoat. “If you thought you could conceal your little agreement with the O’Rourke himself, you’re a fool.” He looked her over. “Although I always knew you were. You turned down workin’ with your own family. And you haven’t had the sense to capitalize on the value of your beauty.”
“There is no money to be made off my beauty,” she hissed. When he opened his mouth to protest, she hissed, “No honorable money.”
“Well, we clearly have differing opinions on what is honorable. Earning money is earning money. And I can’t imagine the O’Rourkes relish the thought of caring for you for the rest of their lives.” He leaned over, speaking in a softly venomous voice, his beady eyes lit with passionate fervency. “One day you’ll regret spurning me. You’ll regret having no ready form of income. And all because you had your head in the clouds, before watching your dreams go up in smoke. I’ll enjoy watching you crawl to me, begging for help.”
He turned away, leaving Lorena quivering, as she stared at the charred remains of her store. Her mind spun with all her uncle had said and implied. Seamus had been generous in his support of her, but he was a businessman. She had known her store would be successful, even if it took her time to repay him. But how would she pay him back now? Now that she had nothing?
She ran a hand down her arm, until her hand rested on her waist. Although she knew her uncle wanted her to work in his friend’s saloon, she couldn’t imagine such a life. Flirting and teasing men. Taunting them while scantily clothed, as they became drunker and drunker. Why would they believe she had no interest in fulfilling what she had teased them with?
With a soft moan, she considered the Madam. Although a good friend to the O’Rourkes, Lorena had never considered Nora more than a distant acquaintance. Although the Madam had aided her injured sister Phoebe, lending Maggie herbs and books filled with medical theory, Lorena had little faith the Madam would proffer any aid, other than a bed, while Lorena worked among her girls. She shivered at the thought of working at the Bordello.
Her mind spun. What was she to do? How could she possibly pay Seamus back?
* * *
A few hours later, Declan stared at the blackened wreckage of the store. Rather than the pile of smoking timber and charred ground covered in ash, he saw Lo
rena. Helpless and unconscious. Unable to escape an inferno. His jaw tightened, as he battled back images that he feared would never fully fade from his memory.
“Are you well?” asked a woman, her voice solicitous, melodious.
Declan spun to face the attractive woman who ran the Bordello, dressed in a bright fuchsia dress with a sheen to it that made it shine even brighter. Her brown hair was pulled back in an attractive knot, and her brown eyes were filled with concern. “I’m fine, ma’am,” he stammered out. “I’m afraid I’ve not made your acquaintance.” He took a step back, as though worried he shouldn’t speak with her.
“Oh, I’m friends with your family.” She paused, waiting to see if he would argue with her on that point. When he continued to stand beside her, she relaxed a little. “How is Miss Mortimer? I was worried about her on the night of the fire.”
Declan’s stiff posture relaxed, as he belatedly recalled the Madam had come to aid Lorena. “You were there,” he breathed. “I forgot. Thank you for helping her.” He paused, scratching at his brow. “She’s well. Tired. Devastated.” He motioned to the wreckage in front of them.
“She almost lost everything,” Nora murmured, in her deep husky voice. When Declan stared at her in confusion, she said in a low voice, “She’s alive. And so are you. Anything remains possible.” She paused, staring at him a long moment. “Mary mentioned you were injured. Are you well?”
Declan shrugged and then hissed at the motion. “I’ve a burn on my back. It aches a bit, but it’ll heal.”
“Don’t be too proud,” Nora admonished. “Accept the advice Maggie offers, as she is becoming a proficient healer.” After a slight pause, she murmured, “And be on your guard for her. Please.”
Focusing fully on the Madam, he ignored the ache in his back. “For Maggie?” he asked. At her nod, he took a slight step closer to her and spoke in a soft voice. “Why tell me and not Da or Mum?”
Nora sighed, her gaze clouded. “Seamus has always been a good friend to me. Your mother has proven equally generous in her amity. However, I know Seamus and I can imagine a mother’s fear.” Her eyes glowed with a deep emotion for a moment, before any such feeling was hidden away behind a resolute facade. “I worry they would act rashly. And this situation calls for planning and strategy.”
“Da’s always been the best at outwittin’ an opponent,” Declan said, standing tall as he defended his da.
“I imagine he has. But that was business. This is about a man who is intent on stealing Maggie away.” She paused and took a deep breath. “From what I’ve heard, if he can’t steal her away, he plans to ensure no one else ever has the pleasure of her company, ever again.”
Declan paled. “You mean, he’d …” He shook his head and swallowed, unable to say the words. Unable to utter the unthinkable. That his sweet sister could be so harmed.
“Yes,” Nora whispered. “I know Seamus was clever enough to trick the man out of town. That was child’s play for what I hear Jacques has planned. Whether it’s this year or next, the man is coming back. And you all must be prepared. Talk to your father, Declan. Let him know I will be expecting his summons.”
Declan nodded, watching her walk away, as his mind raced with fear.
* * *
Lorena squinted as she entered the darkened interior of the warehouse, taking a few moments to adjust from the brightness outside. Her gaze roved over the tidy shelves of supplies, waiting to be purchased, ignoring a few crates in the corner that were still to be unpacked.
Niall glanced up from reading a book, his green eyes ablaze with curiosity, as he looked at her. “Miss,” he said. Although he’d always been friendly, he had never as readily accepted her into the family, as his parents and Maggie had. “What can I do for you?” He tucked a strand of black hair behind one ear, standing up and setting aside his book. Although lanky, it was evident he would become as tall and as strong as Seamus.
“I’m looking for your father.”
Niall nodded his head in the direction of a doorway. “He’s in his office. He won’t mind an interruption.” A smile teased his lips, before disappearing. “He’s making a list for supplies for next year. He calls it one of Hercules’s lost labors.”
Lorena sputtered out a laugh, whispering her thanks, as she walked with a purposeful stride to the office doorway. She raised her hand to knock, her hand frozen in air, when she saw Seamus leaned over his desk, a hand in his hair, as he muttered to himself about impossibilities. “Mr. O’Rourke?” she called out.
“Ah, lass, how many times must I tell you to call me Seamus?” He rose, smiling broadly. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, and the distraction I need.”
Forcing a smile to hide her trepidation, Lorena entered his office with a feigned confidence. “I know I must speak with you. It’s only fair, after all you’ve done for me.”
“Done for you?” He tilted his head to one side and shook his head in confusion. “Come. Sit and let’s discuss your odd notion.” He waited until she had settled, and then he relaxed into his comfortable chair behind his desk across from her. “What’s the matter, lass?”
“You’re a businessman. A successful one.” She gripped and ungripped her hands together. “I had hoped I too would find success.” Her voice faded away, her gaze distant, as she saw the charred hull of her store.
“And you would have been, had it not been for the fire,” Seamus said. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t have the means to repay you. I … I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath, biting the side of one lip, as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I spoke with my uncle.”
Seamus leaned back in his chair, the squeaking it made the only sound in the room. “Did you now? And what did you learn?”
Lorena moved her mouth, as though trying to speak, but no words came out. She looked at Seamus in a panic.
Leaning forward, Seamus stared at her with a fierce intensity. “If I were a bettin’ man, I’d bet everythin’ I own that he tried to convince you to join him in his worthless endeavor with Bell. To become a Temptress.”
Shrugging, she whispered, “Not in so many words.”
“Nay, but he implied it.” He rose, pacing behind his desk. “Did he talk about my wonderful business ventures an’ that a man like me must always be paid back?” At her nod, Seamus leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk as he stared at her. “What type of man am I, lass?”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“When your uncle says, a man like me, what do you imagine?” He waited, as she paled and then flushed. “Do you think of me, sittin’ around the family table with wee Maura, Cillian, or Gavin on my lap? Do you think of me with my Mary in my arms or laughin’ at somethin’ the lads said? Or is it that I’m a moneygrubbin’ Irishman who’ll do anythin’ for a dollar?”
“Sir—Seamus—that’s not what I meant.” She rubbed at her head. “I’m so confused!” She cried, tears pouring down her cheek. “I’ve lost everything! Everything I ever dreamed about is gone. Gone up in flames. All I have is a pile of ash.” She stared at him with abject desolation. “I can’t depend on your family forever.”
Seamus walked around the desk to crouch in front of her, holding her hands and squeezing them. “How, after all this time, can’t you understand that you’re family, Lorena? You’re family to me. If the café had burned to the ground, do you think I’d be after Deirdre and Ardan for repayment?” He shook his head, his gaze filled with disappointment and sadness. “’Tisn’t family. ’Tisn’t love.”
A sob burst forth, as she fell forward into his arms.
“Ah, lass, come now,” he murmured, as he held her. His hands patted at her back, as he waited for her sobs to quiet. When she had quieted to snuffling breaths against his chest, he eased her away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “There’s no shame in showin’ your sorrow at all you’ve lost. Just as there’s no need worryin’ about rebuildin’.” He met her shocked gaze, swiping at a tear that
trickled down her cheek, as though she were Maggie or Niamh and needing his care.
“I could never,” she whispered. “How would I ever repay you?”
Seamus let out a deep breath. “Lorena, would you cease with the talk of repayment?” He looked at her with a quiet solemnity. “Come. Let me help you up.” He eased her to standing, stepping away from her, as she had curled into herself at his nearness. “All will be well, lass.” He paused. “As long as you never believe the lies told you by your uncle.”
She met his gaze, standing a bit taller. “I won’t. He’s a snake.” She whispered her thanks before slipping from the room, unseeingly fleeing the warehouse until she was outside and headed toward home. She prayed Winnifred was away, for Lorena needed time alone to think.
* * *
Declan poked his head into his father’s office, frowning when he saw his dad staring out the window. “Da?” he asked, as he entered and shut the door behind him. “What was Lorena doing here? Niall said he heard her crying.”
Seamus heaved out a breath, turning to face his son. “She was. She has everythin’ jumbled up in her mind and doesn’t know up from down.”
Declan shook his head and moved to race after Lorena, only stilling his instinctual movement when his father called out to him to remain. “Da?”
“Stay, son,” Seamus said. “Give her a little time. She doesn’t need to feel hemmed in by O’Rourkes. She already lives with us.” He sobered and sat in the chair behind his desk, nodding with satisfaction as Declan sat in front of him. “She’s confused, Declan. Believes she must find a way to repay her debt to me.”
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 10