She pressed back, gazing deeply into his eyes. “Scare you?” At the terror in his gaze, she cupped his cheek and shook her head. “I’ve had a lovely chat with Mr. A.J.”
Declan glanced beside her toward the older man, who he was beginning to regard as another benevolent older sibling. “I’m glad.”
“Ah, yes, the missus an’ I had a fine chat by the Missouri. Once we separated ourselves from her uncle, that is.” A.J.’s eyes gleamed with warning, as he met Declan’s furious gaze.
Now focusing on his wife, he cupped her faced and asked, “Your uncle dared to speak with you?” At her resigned nod, he forced a calm expression. “Come. Sit. Deirdre, would you mind feeding Lorena as well?” With a smile to her, he turned to Lorena. “I know you didn’t have much to eat at the house.”
She sat on one of the stools around the large kitchen island, watching as Deirdre scooped out a generous serving of eggs, potatoes, and bacon, with a biscuit on the side. “Thank you,” she murmured in an abashed tone, as she kept her head ducked, a wave of shyness enveloping her. When A.J. regaled Deirdre and the younger boys with a tale about a three-legged cat, Lorena whispered to Declan, “I’m sorry.”
Her husband brushed at the hair on her cheeks and shook his head. “Sorry? Why are you sorry, love?”
She tapped her fork on the plate, before taking a deep breath to face his concerned gaze. “For not being honest from the beginning. I should have been. You would never have married me—”
“Shh,” he admonished, placing a finger over her lips. “You know no such thing. And this discussion is best had in private.” He nodded to her full plate. “Come. Eat your fill.” He rested his palm on her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, as he joined in chatting with A.J. about life in Fort Benton.
Lorena took an obliging bite of food, closing her eyes with a groan of pleasure as she realized just how hungry she was and how delicious Deirdre’s food was. She gobbled down the entire plate of food, as she listened to Declan and Mr. A.J. speak nonsense, her anxiety about what was to come easing with each passing moment.
* * *
Declan stared out the window in the bedroom he shared with Lorena in the rooms above the kitchen and café. He’d had a few moments with Gavin, before Samantha had taken him to his parents’ house, and seeing his son had soothed a little of the ache in his soul.
Although he had always believed himself a patient man, today he found that attribute to be in short supply. With a sudden ferocity, he wanted to know everything he could about his wife. Her childhood. Her friends. Her first love. With a sigh, he rubbed at his head, as he’d seen his father do too many times to count. Most important of all, he wanted Lorena to trust him enough to tell him about her baby.
With an impatience borne of anxiety about his own hidden truths, he paced away from the window to the bed and then back again. With a sigh, he leaned against the window frame, his gaze distant and his mind filled with all he wished he could forget. All he knew he had to tell his wife to show his faith in her.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a low contrite voice that shook from behind him.
He spun to face her and stared at her, as though she were an apparition for a moment. Then he smiled. “Don’t be. I’ve been anxious to see you.” He approached her slowly, afraid to startle her. “To hold you.” Some of his tension eased when she smiled, opening her arms to him.
With a grateful groan, he wrapped her in his strong embrace. “Whatever you have to tell me, I will honor it. And you. I will not judge you for what happened in the past.” He looked deeply into her green eyes. “As I hope you will not judge me.”
She shook her head, her arms around his waist squeezing him tight.
“Will you listen?” he whispered.
“Of course,” she said, as she kissed his chest. “Whatever you have to say will not change how I feel about you, Declan. I already know you to be a remarkable man.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I fear you will think differently when I am done with my tale.” He eased them onto the bed to sit side by side but then rose to pace in front of her, the words bursting forth in a torrent, as though a dam had ruptured.
“I met a woman in Saint Louis early last spring. About a year and a half ago. Magnolia Harding. I thought she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on. Gold ringlets and blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg. A dazzling deceitful beauty. I was blinded by her meaningless charm. Her meaningless flirtations. I never saw below the surface.”
He fisted his hands and hit his thigh as he walked, his pacing continuing, until he spun to face Lorena, his eyes blazing with fury and loathing. It was impossible to determine if the loathing was for himself or Magnolia. “I wasn’t cunning enough to see through her charade. To see she was only interested in whatever riches I might have. That she wished I had my own business and was disdainful I worked with my family. I ignored her prattle about the number of servants I had or how much I had saved in a bank.”
When he paused, she whispered, “Why, Declan? She doesn’t seem at all the type of woman you would like.” She flushed as he stared at her for a long moment. “Forgive me for presuming …”
“No,” he said, as he held out a hand in her direction. “You should presume. You’re my wife. You’re the type of woman I should have always sought.” He frowned as he saw her flush and duck her head, as though ashamed of his regard for her. “I was blinded by her beauty and her flirtatious manner and didn’t have the sense to notice her beauty was a thin varnish covering a black soul. I was stunned that a woman every man desired would want a man like me.”
“A man like you?” she asked, her head jerking up to meet his tormented gaze. “I don’t understand. Why would you ever doubt who you are?”
Declan approached the bed and sat beside her, gently clasping her hand. “You’ve heard the tales. Of how my own brother married the first woman meant for me. And then Ardan found love. I thought, surely, as the third brother, I should be the next to marry. To find a woman to match the women my brothers had wed and marry her. I was desperate to prove myself.”
“Prove yourself?” she whispered. “I don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath and gazed deeply into her eyes before he whispered, “Prove that I was worthy of loving.”
“Worthy of loving?” she repeated. When he jerked away, as though she had slapped him, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, until she sat on his lap and held him close. “No, you misunderstand. You’re such a worthy man. One of the worthiest men I’ve ever met. If she were so feebleminded that she couldn’t understand that …” She shrugged.
Declan rested his head on her shoulder. “I cut my hair. Shaved off my beard. Traded in my backwoodsman clothes for suits. Everything I could think of to please her.”
She ran her fingers through his short hair. “Oh, you silly man, don’t you know that none of that matters? What matters is who you are here.” She held a hand over his heart. “If she couldn’t see that, she didn’t deserve you.”
His eyes glistened as he stared at her. “I couldn’t see it, Lorena,” he said in a low tone. “In the end, ’tis all that matters.” He closed his eyes. “I was a fool for her. Fought my brothers over her. Refused to listen to reason. Was determined to prove I could be loved.” He cleared his throat. “Forced them to leave me behind, while I chased after her.”
“Why?” Lorena whispered. “Your family is so close. Why would you push them away?”
“Aye, our family is close. We love each other something fierce, and accept almost everyone.” His expression clouded as he thought about Colleen, Connor and Jacques. “When I left for Saint Louis, two of my brothers had found women to love, women as worthy as my mum. They experienced hardships, aye, but they still made love seem effortless. I’d heard stories about how Da saw mum across a room and knew he’d marry her. I thought I’d have the same story to tell after meeting Magnolia. I was a fool.”
“No,
Declan, you weren’t a fool. You were hopeful. And lonely.”
He shrugged, his motion jostling her on his lap. “If I listened to my brothers, then I had to acknowledge what they said was true. That Magnolia used me. That I was nothing to her. And I couldn’t bear it.”
She made a sound of protest, as she pressed herself closer to him. “What happened?” she whispered. “You’re here, with your son, without her.”
“I tracked her to New Orleans, with the man she truly loved. Andre Martin.” His hold on her tightened. “She was shocked to see me. Astonished I had followed her.” His jaw clenched and unclenched. “They were trying to dupe another man. A richer man. And I was in the way.” He shook his head with impatience. “No, that’s not true. Her being pregnant with Gavin was in the way. They had no use for a baby who would prevent her from finding another benefactor, while she continued with her lover on the side.”
He stared at her with a nearly unbearable sadness. “I’d discerned by then Gavin wasn’t mine. There’s no way he could have been. I met her in early March, and he was born in early August.”
“What would she do?”
“If she could, sell him as soon as she gave birth. If not, leave him on a street corner,” Declan said in a low, irate voice. “Hope someone would find him and care for him. Or take him to an orphanage.” He stared at her, his gaze filled with self-hatred. “How could I have ever esteemed a woman who was so heartless? She died in childbirth, and I feel such relief knowing she’s dead. And such guilt at that relief. I shouldn’t rejoice at another’s demise.”
Cupping his face, she leaned forward, until their foreheads touched. “Forgive yourself, Declan, for caring for her. You didn’t know any better. You wanted love. To be loved.” She gazed at him with a mixture of marvel and disbelief. “I can’t believe the man you are today after having suffered so.”
“Aye, well, I fear I’ve not changed as much as I’d hoped.”
She stilled, staring into his eyes. “What is it you fear?” she asked, as she traced a hand over his chest. “About me?”
A long silence ensued before he admitted, “That you want Gavin more than you’ll ever want me.” He held his breath, as she gaped at him. “I see how you watch him. As though he were every dream you ever wanted wrapped up in a perfect little bundle.” He closed his eyes. “I know we’re married, but I need to know you didn’t marry me simply for Gavin. Or my family.”
She sat upright, pushing away from him. “You have a very low opinion of me, don’t you?” She swiped away a tear. “First I covet your son. Then your family. With no regard for you?”
He grabbed her and rolled with her until she rested caged underneath him, his weight held off her by his knees and elbows. “Dammit, want me at least as much as you want them. Please.” His blue eyes sparkled with desperation and the tears he fought to prevent from falling.
“Of course I want you,” she said. “How could I not want you, you remarkable man?” Her hand rose to caress his cheek. “I will always have trouble believing you want me.”
He leaned forward, his nose brushing over hers. His gaze softened, as he saw her eyes flutter closed, and a contented smile bloomed. With a subtle shift, he brushed his lips over hers reverently. “I will always want you, Lo.” He leaned away. “I hope, in time, you’ll trust me with what you believe brings you shame.” He gazed deeply into her beautiful eyes. “And learn that nothing you have done will ever make me think less of you.”
He frowned as her eyes welled with tears, and he rolled so she rested her head on his strong chest. “There’s a love,” he murmured, kissing her head, while running his fingers over her back. “There’s a love.” He held her as sobs burst forth, wrenched from her.
She clung to him, her back heaving and her breath hitching, as she soaked his shirt. “Forgive me,” she gasped out. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“No, love,” he whispered. “This is what marriage is all about. Sharing ourselves. Our joy. Our grief. Our hopes. Our pain.” He tilted his head, so he could see her eyes. “At least I hope ’tis how it is.”
She raised a quivering hand to caress his cheek. “I never dared dream I could have this. Not since …” She broke off and buried her face in his chest.
“Shh, love, we have time. There’s no rush,” he murmured, as he held her until she tumbled into a restful sleep.
Chapter 13
The following day, Lorena sat in the O’Rourke kitchen, sipping a cup of tea. She knew she needed to head to the burned-out shell of her bookstore and begin the cleanup, but she didn’t have the heart to see the charred remains of her dreams. Although she knew she should do something, be an active member of the family and help in some way, she remained seated at the table, her mind distant.
All she could think about was Declan. Her mind was filled with the story he had told about his treacherous relationship with Magnolia Harding. Lorena gave silent thanks that he had left Saint Louis to return home, that they had become reluctant friends, and that they had married. With a shiver, she imagined what his reaction would be when she told him about her past. For the first time, she felt the stirrings of an inner strength to even dare speaking of all that haunted her.
“Are you shiverin’, love?” Mary asked, as she entered the kitchen. She rested the back of her hand against Lorena’s forehead. “You’ve no fever. Are you ailin’?” Mary peered at her with unconcealed concern.
“No, not ailing,” Lorena said, her fingers playing with the teacup. “I’m trying to marshal courage, and I’m finding it difficult.”
Mary stared at her with understanding. “I’ve found the imagining is almost always worse than reality. Almost.” A shadow crossed her expression. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, I had a difficult second marriage. That reality was worse than imaginings.” She shuddered. “What I’ve found since returnin’ to my life with Seamus and our children is that I can’t allow my fears of what might occur to ruin the happiness that I am actually experiencing.”
Lorena furrowed her brows and shook her head.
After settling across from Lorena, Mary linked her fingers together around her mug, gazing at the woman she considered her newest daughter. “I’ve discovered in the past two years that I must believe I deserve the joy and the delight I feel every day. That I shouldn’t cling to a shred of doubt, fearing that something or someone will come to rip away from me everything I hold most precious. I’ve learned the true meaning of faith.”
Her eyes filling with tears, Lorena sniffled. “I fear I lost any faith years ago, and I won’t ever be able to recover it.”
“Ah, lass, you will,” Mary soothed. She paused, granting them a few moments of quiet contemplation. “However, not only must you trust in Declan, you must trust in yourself. And believe you are worthy of all you desire.”
“How?” Lorena whispered. “How do you recover that faith? That belief?”
Mary reached forward, clasping one of Lorena’s hands. “You must forgive yourself for whatever you believe is unforgiveable. You must let go of the self-hatred.” She paused. “I know how hard it can be.” Her hazel eyes glowed with regret and sorrow. “Although you see harmony between Seamus and me, ’twasn’t always the case. I was riddled with fear and insecurity. I had chosen the best I could, after discovering my babe and me alone in Montreal, but I carried a terrible burden of doubt that I hadn’t tried harder to find a better man. A more worthy man to care for my wee babe and me. Instead I found myself with a brute of a man.”
Lorena whispered, “How did you forgive yourself?”
“I won’t lie, Lorena. It took time—and the constancy of Seamus’s love and support. But I overcame my fears and my feeling of unworthiness.” Her eyes glowed as she began to speak of Seamus. “He kissed my scars,” she whispered. “Touched me with reverence, when I’d only known pain for so many years.” She sniffled. “’Twas a balm for my weary soul.”
“Oh, Mary,” Lorena murmured. “He’s a wonderful man.”
“Aye,
he is. As is my Declan. Trust him. Believe in his regard for you. Let go of the past, so you can build a future with my son.”
* * *
Lorena sat on the bed in the room she shared with Declan in Ardan and Deirdre’s home. Filtered sunlight from lace curtains speckled the room, with the curtains billowing every few moments from the soft wind. In her hands, she held a folded slip of paper. Rather than open it to read the missive for the thousandth time, she closed her eyes and imagined long-ago scenes. Her first dance with the man she knew she’d love until the day she died. Her first kiss. The heart-wrenching goodbye that changed her life forever.
A tear trickled down her cheek, as she felt a calm purposefulness settle over her. A serene acceptance that what she suffered did not preclude her from finding happiness again. Lorena took a deep breath and opened her eyes, gasping in surprise to find Declan calmly watching her. “Declan!”
“Yes, love,” he murmured, pushing away from the doorjamb and into the room. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your interlude.”
She shook her head, her hand reaching out for him. Her hand stroked down his arm, until her fingers clasped his. “No, you misunderstand,” she said in a low, halting voice. With another deep breath, she looked up and met his gaze, hers filled with uncertainty and a deep vulnerability. “I was about to leave to look for you.” The hope in his gaze bolstered her faltering courage. “I wanted to show you something.” She held out the letter. “And then talk.”
He nodded, pulling over a chair from the corner of the room, so he could sit facing her. His hands played with hers, and he showed no urgency in reading the folded piece of paper. “Only if you’re certain.”
She smiled at him, as a tear trickled down her cheek. “I am. It’s time. I’ve allowed the past to shadow the future for too long. And I want, … I want more,” she said, her voice faltering, as she looked down, breaking eye contact with him.
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 15