He pressed two of his fingers under her jaw and gently canted her head up again, gazing with a deep earnestness into her eyes. “I will honor whatever you tell me. Honor you. Honor us.”
She nodded. “I know. I know I can trust you. Secrets and silence have been my stalwart companions for too long.” She flushed but held his gaze. “I want more.”
Cupping her cheek, his fingers sliding over her soft skin in a tender caress, he leaned forward to kiss her. “I do too, love.” He rubbed his nose against hers and backed away. “May I read it?”
She handed him the letter again, biting her lip and hunching her shoulders, as he took it from her.
“None of that, Lo,” Declan said, as he watched her. He ran his free hand over her shoulder and rose. “Snuggle up. Let me hold you, as I read this.” He kicked off his boots, scooted back in the bed, and held his arms out for her to crawl into them. When she had rested her head against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. “Heaven,” he murmured, before lifting the letter to read.
My Darling Lorena,
By the time you read this letter, I will most likely be dead. Forgive me for not being a better soldier. For not evading injury. For not coming home to you. For not fulfilling my promise of holding you in my arms until we were old and gray.
Remember me as I was—the laughing, joy-filled man who knew he had heaven within reach because he had you. Remember the times when no words were needed.
If there was one good thing I did in my life, it was loving you.
Josiah
Lorena rested, listening to the soft cadence of his heart, taking solace from him. The letter wasn’t long, but a silence ensued for minutes. However, she did not feel Declan becoming tense or anxious, and she remained calm in his arms.
“Ah, love,” Declan whispered. “I’m so glad for you.”
“What?” she gasped, arching up and gaping at him. “How can you say that, after reading the letter?”
He smiled at her with a deep tenderness. “I feared you’d known betrayal and disillusionment, like I had. Instead you knew love. You knew what it was to be cherished.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks in an uncontrollable stream. “That makes it all worse!” she cried. “To have had everything and then to lose it,” she sobbed, as she fell forward.
“Ah, love, no,” he crooned, as he set aside the letter and wrapped his arms around her. “No, it means you’ve merely forgotten the tremendous capacity for loving and for being loved that you have. You’ve learned to fear it, when you should celebrate it.”
“It only brings pain,” she stammered out.
“Not always,” he whispered, as he kissed her head, his fingers playing over her back. “Not always.” He held her during the many minutes she cried, understanding the need to purge her pent-up anguish.
“I loved before you,” she whispered. “A man named Josiah.” Her voice sputtered to a halt. “I never say his name. I’ve thought for so long that to say his name would be to invoke more pain.”
He shifted so they lay on their sides, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. “Is that it? Or is there something more?”
She flinched and then relaxed. “You won’t let me hide. Not even from myself. And that’s terrifying.” She sniffled as another tear trickled down her cheek, whispering her thanks as he handed her a clean handkerchief. After scrubbing at her nose and cheeks, she said, “I didn’t deserve his love.”
Declan nodded. “Thus you had no right to say his name.” His long fingers played in her loose hair, as he caressed her shoulder and arm. He gazed deeply into her eyes for a long moment. “When did you come to realize you deserved his love? That whatever befell you was a tragedy and out of your control?”
She shook her head, staring at him in wonder. “How do you know that?”
His lips quirked in a soft smile. “I know you and the woman you are. You would never intentionally harm another, even though you are desperate for approval from those you esteem. I imagine that caused you tremendous conflict, aye?”
“Aye,” she whispered, as she pressed forward, resting in his arms again. “Will you listen?”
“Always.”
“I met Josiah at a soiree in Saint Louis. He was like all the other handsome men in the room that day. Well dressed, smooth talking, a good dancer.” She propped up on her elbows to look into Declan’s gaze. “Except he didn’t fawn over Mama, and he only had eyes for me. Even then, Winnifred was gorgeous, and I was surprised at his notice.”
She paused, her gaze turning inward, as though envisioning distant scenes. “I remember receiving flowers from him the next day and accepting his invitation for walks in the park. Mama never thought he was good enough. He wasn’t rich enough for her. But he was a successful architect and had such a vision of how things could be.” The joy faded from her gaze, replaced by fear and sadness. “And then the War started.”
She shrugged. “I should have felt pride that he wanted to fight for the Union. I should have knitted him socks and hidden letters in his bag, so he could find them when he was away from me.” She closed her eyes. “Instead I wallowed in my misery of losing him. In my prayers the Rebs would be inept, the conflict short-lived.”
She sniffled and met Declan’s steadfast compassionate gaze. “The night before he was to leave, I snuck out to see him. I had to see him one more time.” She sniffled and ducked her head, blushing beet red.
“And you made love,” her husband murmured.
“Yes.” She met his gaze with a defiant tilt of her chin. “I should feel shame. I should accept that I disgraced my family and anything that happened was my fault.”
“You spout a lot of nonsense about should, love,” Declan said in a soft voice. “You loved the man. Thought you would marry him. And he was going off to war. I’ll never blame you for taking comfort nor for offering it. Only a heartless person would.”
Lorena let out a mirthless laugh. “Oh, that sums up Mama. Heartless. And spouting her beliefs about shame and disgrace.” She fell forward, as a few more tears coursed out.
Declan wrapped his arms around her. “What more happened, love?”
“I received that letter. Only a few months after he had left, when the fighting had barely begun. I bartered everything I had to discover what hospital he was in and to travel to him.” Her jaw firmed with anger. “At first they wouldn’t let me see him. Said such a place was no place for a genteel woman. I was on the verge of stealing men’s clothing and dressing up as a soldier, when I met the doctor’s wife. She insisted I was her new assistant and helped me gain admittance.”
She shuddered. “I’ve seen hell,” she breathed. “It’s a hospital where men wait to die from their wounds, as their flesh rots, and doctors have nothing to alleviate their suffering.”
Swallowing, Lorena said, “I found Josiah, feverish and near death. He recognized me.” She shrugged. “At least I tell myself he did.” Tears tracked down her cheek. “He died an hour after I arrived.”
“Oh, love,” Declan murmured, wrapping her close.
“I never … never got to tell him that we were to have a baby,” she gasped. “That he was to be a papa. And I a mama.” She looked at Declan. “The only solace I had was that, at least I still had a small piece of him.”
Declan nodded, a tear leaking from one of his eyes, as he stroked his fingers over her cheek.
“I wrote Mama with the news and that I planned to come home. I’ve never received so fast a reply from her.” She shuddered. “Mama wrote such awful things. She asked how I could have betrayed the family’s honor. How was I to raise the baby on my own with no family support? How would I feel to be at the mercy of every man I met because I would forever be seen as a fallen woman with no scruples?”
Declan froze as she spoke. “She didn’t,” he whispered. At her nod, his gaze filled with a molten fury, and his hold on her tightened. “Those were her fears and showed her inability to love. They didn’t reflect on you.”
�
�How was I to raise a child, Declan? I was alone. Forbidden to ever see my sisters again if I kept my child.” She closed her eyes. “However, even that price seemed a price worth paying, as long as I could have Josiah’s baby. Keep some small part of him.”
“You’ll always have him, love. As long as you remember him and the love you shared.”
“How can you understand? Why don’t you hate me? Condemn me?”
Shaking his head, Declan made a soothing noise. “Never. I could never berate you for what I’ve also done. Although you had true love and affection between you.”
“I didn’t do what you did! I gave my baby away!” she cried, as tears coursed out again. “All I had in that miserable place was my good looks and a baby growing in me. I had little money and no one to protect me. The good fortune I had was that of having the support of the doctor’s wife. She took me under her wing and gave me a room to sleep in and ensured I never went hungry. She said she knew what it was like to be alone in the world, and she hated to see me suffer.”
He paused for a moment, before asking in a quiet murmur, “Hmm, are you certain there was no ulterior motive?”
“Oh, there was. I was too naive to see it in the beginning. And, by the time I realized it, I was too dependent on her and her husband’s support. And I’d come to realize that I could never raise a child alone. I had no skills. No way of earning money. All the young men were going to war. Even if I had wanted to marry to protect my baby, there was no one I could have married, unless I was willing to marry an old man. And I refused to work in a place like the Bordello. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”
“Of course not, love,” he whispered.
Her voice broke. “I loved Josiah. I wanted Josiah. I couldn’t imagine another man. And then it was obvious I was with child, and no man wanted another man’s child.”
“Not all men,” he whispered.
Lorena stared deeply into his eyes as she nodded. “Not all men.” She took a deep breath. “By the time I understood how precarious my situation was, I had few options to help myself. The doctor’s wife had been patient and smart. Planting little hints about her childless sister. About the wonderful home she had. About the fact no baby would ever want for anything in such a home.”
Declan waited for her to speak before he added in a soft voice, “Except the love of his own mother.”
She nodded. “Yes, except for that. But I came to realize I could consign us to a life of hunger and misery and die young. Or I could be selfish and give her up.”
“Selfish?” He cupped her face. “How in all that is holy could you ever consider what you did selfish?” His blue eyes gleamed with ardent sincerity. “’Twas the most selfless act any woman could do. To ensure her child was well cared for at the cost of losing her child. A child you cherished and loved and wanted.”
“Yes,” Lorena whispered, falling forward into his arms again. “I did love my baby and did cherish her. So much.” She gripped his shoulders, as though taking strength from his strong arms. “But I gave her up. And I’ve never spoken about her since. All my sisters were to know was that I’d gone away, suffered a disappointment, and returned. I don’t know how Winnifred knew of her.”
“How could they not have wondered about what you suffered? You couldn’t have returned as the same woman who had left.”
“No. I was silent, and I buried myself in books. I barely noticed when Mama picked on Phoebe or when Winnifred pranced around, acting like a brat. I clung to my agony like a shield. For, if I let it go, it meant I would feel again. Be hurt again.”
“What happened?” he asked.
Lorena smiled. “The O’Rourkes happened. We traveled here. Phoebe was injured. And your family took us in. For the first time, I was surrounded by a family who loved and cared for each other. That might squabble and fight but wouldn’t intentionally hurt each other.” She paused and blushed. “I saw what a mother’s love was, for the first time.”
“Ah, Mum is a special woman,” Declan murmured. “We suffered without her.”
Lorena gazed into his eyes. “And then you returned, with a baby you claim but who’s not yours.” She waited for him to lash out at her but saw the quiet acceptance and confirmation in his gaze. “And I was awed at that O’Rourke capacity for love. Hope bloomed that day, and I haven’t been able to kill it.”
“Don’t,” Declan pleaded. “Never kill hope. For ’tis the one thing that makes everything we go through bearable.” He flushed as he looked at her. “’Twas the hope of you that allowed me to have faith that I’d survive the pain of Magnolia’s treachery.”
“Of me?” Lorena shook her head. “You didn’t know me.”
“Of finding a woman like you. Of finding you,” Declan said in a reverent tone.
Lorena gazed at him in wonder, her fingers tracing through his beard. Leaning forward, she kissed him, gently and then more firmly, only breaking the kiss when she was gasping for air. “I never dared dream I would meet a man like you. That I could ever deserve a man like you, after what I did.”
Shaking his head, Declan ran his fingers through her hair. “No, love, you must change how you see what occurred. Never be ashamed you found a way to ensure your baby thrived. That is a wonderful gift you gave her.” He paused. “What did you name her?”
Lorena flushed. “Faith.”
He smiled. “A perfect name for her.” He sighed as she rested against him. “I love holding you. Feeling you in my arms. Knowing you want to be there.”
She squeezed him and pressed closer to him. “Of course I want to be here. I … adore you.”
“Adore,” he murmured. He ran his hands over her back, kissing her head again and again. “What’s bothering you, Lo? Something else is festering away inside you.” He looked at her, encouraging her to confront what she feared.
She pushed back, her gaze tormented. “I still don’t understand how you can stand to look at me. I’m a horrible person. I gave away my child, and now I’m jealous of my own sister’s good fortune. I feel envy rather than joy.”
He smiled tenderly. “Ah, love, you have it all tangled in your mind again. You’re not perfect. I’m not perfect. We feel emotions that bring us shame.” He brushed at her hair, as he ran his thumbs over her eyebrows. “Do you think I wasn’t desperately envious of my happily married siblings? That I wasn’t filled with shame to return home with a baby but no wife?” He shrugged. “I discovered that coming home was the most important thing. Being with family and finding their acceptance as I embraced what I did have. Seeing the love shining in their eyes as they looked at me, understanding they knew how I felt but loved me anyway.”
“I’ve never known that kind of acceptance.”
He paused, his fingers stroking over her. “Ah, love, you have, if you only look for it. And I hope you’ll be able to find that peace too.”
She looked at him, her fingers stroking his stubbled jaw. “I’m starting to.” She took a deep breath. “I want to speak with your parents. With the women of your family. I need them to understand.”
He shook his head, making soothing noises when her shoulders shrank, and she looked crushed by his words. “No, love, no,” he said. “I’m not sayin’ you must not speak with them. I simply wish you didn’t feel a need to justify yourself or what you’ve done. You have no need of that. You are remarkable.”
“I want them to understand. It’s something I have to do, Declan.” She stared at his chest.
“Then I’ll be by your side—if you want me there. And, if you want to talk with them alone, I’ll be waiting impatiently to hold you in my arms to tell you how proud I am of you.”
“Oh, my darling,” she whispered, snuggling into his embrace once more. “Thank you.”
* * *
Declan sat in the café kitchen, sipping at a cup of tea, while he nibbled on a piece of cake Deirdre had set in front of him. “You know I’ll gain a stone if Lorena and I continue to live here.”
Deirdre laughed and continued c
ooking and cleaning up. Her workday was nearly over, and they could hear Ardan in the café, cajoling the stragglers to leave. However, they both knew it would take him a few more minutes as not many men had anywhere to go, and they enjoyed fine conversations over good cups of coffee.
“Ardan’s mastered the art of telling a good tale,” Declan said.
Deirdre frowned as she looked at her brother-in-law. “He was always a fine storyteller, Declan. He merely allowed everyone else in the family to shine. Now he has his own place and his own business, with me.”
Declan stilled as he considered her words. “I never considered the responsibility he must have felt, as the eldest. And what it was like for him, living in Da’s shadow.” He paused before whispering, “I envy him.”
“There’s no need to envy what you yourself have,” she said with a wry smile. “You’ve a wonderful wife, a beautiful son, and you’ll soon have employment you find fulfilling.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “How do you know that?”
“I know you, and I know O’Rourkes. You’ll find a way to make your dreams come true. And your wife’s.” She smiled at him. “It’s in your nature.” She squeezed his arm.
Declan took a deep breath, momentarily overcome by strong emotions. Finally he murmured, “You should be at the main house, listening to Lorena’s story. She doesn’t want to tell her tale more than the one time.”
Deirdre shrugged. “I spoke with her for a few moments, before she left. She understood I wouldn’t be able to leave.” She paused. “I told her of my suspicions.” When Declan stared at her with concern, she whispered, “That she lost a child.”
Gaping at her, he rasped, “How did you know?”
“I lost one too,” she said in a barely audible voice. “Before I moved here. I … My Lydia.” She shook her head. “She died. And I never thought I could risk loving again. That I wasn’t worthy of loving again.” She took a deep trembling breath. “Ardan helped me to see that I was. I am.”
“Did she tell you what happened?” Declan asked.
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 16