“It’s only adoration. It’s not love,” Lorena said with a defiant tilt of her chin, as she referred to her husband and ignored everything else Phoebe had said.
“Will you ever believe in his love for you? Or must he spend his whole life trying to prove it to you?” Phoebe asked in a soft voice. “For, if you doubt and doubt, his love for you will decay and will become a fragment of what he felt for you, mingled with resentment and duty. And you will have lost your chance to experience unfettered joy again.”
Lorena watched as her sister walked out the back door, her words ringing in the otherwise silent room.
* * *
Declan worried that Ardan and Deirdre would tire of having guests, but Ardan seemed delighted that their large home was serving its purpose. Gavin usually woke once in the middle of the night, but he rarely cried and was generally a cheery child. Declan couldn’t believe his son would soon be one year old.
This morning Lorena rested on her side staring into space, her long beautiful hair cascading down her back, free of any braids. “Lorena, love, why are you hiding yourself away?” Declan asked, as he stood just inside their bedroom door.
“Why do you use endearments with me?” she asked, as she continued to stare at a space on the wall opposite her. “Why pretend?”
“Pretend?” he asked, coming to kneel beside the bed and to block her view of the far wall. He frowned as he saw the desolation in her gaze. “What’s happened, my love?”
She pushed herself up, her hair shimmering around her shoulders. “There. Right there. You call me your love. Do you mean it?” she asked. “Or is it all something you say that means nothing?”
“Of course I mean it.” He took a deep breath to calm his roiling emotions and to prevent himself from saying something that could bring her pain. “You haven’t been ready to hear it.”
“I’m that much of a weakling?”
He gripped her hand, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “No. You’re the bravest, strongest woman I know. And I know quite a few strong women,” he said, alluding to his mum, Maggie, and Niamh. “I worried you’d find a reason to leave, if you knew how much I felt. Find a way to distance yourself from me.”
She shook her head. “How can you care for me when my own sister tried to kill me? My own mother forced me to make an impossible choice!” She took a deep gulping breath. “There’s something wrong with me, Declan.” She held a hand to her chest. “I’m not worthy of … of …”
“Love?” he said in a confident voice. “For I love you, Lorena. I love you like I never knew it was possible to love. With every part of me. And I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
Her eyes rounded, as she stared at him in awe. “You can’t,” she breathed, shaking her head.
His cheeks flushed red, and his nostrils flared, as he took a deep breath. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot feel, Lo.”
She sat in stunned silence for a long moment. “My name,” she murmured, as she continued to stare at him in wonder. “You’ve always said it in a way to make it sound as though it were the sweetest endearment.”
Letting out a pent-up breath, he nodded. “I don’t remember the Gaelic, like Da and a few of my siblings do.” His eyes glowed with the fervency of his emotions. “’Twas a way I could show you how much I cared without declaring it to the world. Or you.”
“I’m a fool,” she whispered. She gasped as Declan rose, striding for the door and slamming it shut behind him. “No,” she breathed, as she watched him run away from her. “No, wait.”
Holding a hand to her racing heart, Lorena sat in stunned silence as she realized her every dream was within her grasp. If only she had the courage to reach for it.
Chapter 15
A few weeks later, Fort Benton was now welcoming men from the mining towns, wishing to return to the larger cities. They spent a few days or a week in Fort Benton, before hitching a ride to Cow Island and a waiting steamboat. Although the café remained busy, there wasn’t nearly as much commerce in the family store, and the warehouse was no longer a hive of activity.
Since the night he had declared his love and had been rebuffed, Declan had not spent more than a few moments in his wife’s presence. He had snubbed her every overture to talk and had slept away from Ardan’s. He took his meals with his family and sat beside her as a dutiful husband, but he did not laugh or join in the conversations. He refused to hold her hand. Or gaze at her like the lovesick idiot he was.
Instead he focused on a project that he had begun before their argument. One that he now worked on like a man possessed. For he believed, if he could just finish it, he could prove his love. Could earn it and be worthy of it.
As the hot afternoon sun burned down on them, his brother Kevin swiped at his forehead, a hammer in his hand and a nail in the corner of his mouth, as he tried to talk to his brother. “You’ll have to talk to her again at some point, Dec. She is your wife.” He looked around them. “You’ll have to tell her about what you’ve been doing.”
“I’m not tellin’ her anything until I’ve finished,” Declan said with a defiant tilt of his head. His hair was longer, and his beard hadn’t been trimmed in days, if not weeks.
Niall heaved out a breath, as he paused his work and took a long sip of water, before mimicking his older brothers and swiping at his forehead with the back of his forearm. “If you don’t tell her somethin’ soon, she’ll leave. She already thinks you’ve found another.”
“What?” Declan demanded. “She can’t be that daft. I told her that I loved her.”
“Aye, an’ ran away two minutes later. You never gave your lass a chance to believe you.” Kevin shook his head, before moving away to keep working. “Stop reacting out of fear, Dec.”
Declan huffed out an aggrieved breath, as he turned toward a wall and hammered in a nail so hard he nearly splintered the board. His mind raced at the possibility she now doubted him. After moments of anger, where he indignantly replayed all the times he had been good to her, he rested his forehead against one of the planks.
His mad desire to finish this project, to prove to her that he loved her, now seemed pointless. An unutterable sadness and sense of futility filled him, and he wanted to bawl like a baby. Instead he pushed back and focused on the task at hand. Looking around, he knew they had a few more weeks’ worth of work. He wondered if he would still have a marriage worth salvaging at that point.
* * *
That evening, Declan sat beside Lorena, although his attention was on his father, who seemed distracted. Mum had baked a cake, and they planned to celebrate Gavin’s birthday tonight. Thus the table was crowded as everyone was present, including Niamh, Cormac, and their children. He glanced to the door to see Dunmore standing there, his hat in his hands, as his gaze tracked Maggie’s every move with a devout attentiveness. Declan’s gaze rose to meet his father’s, and Seamus nodded once. Suddenly Declan knew his son’s birthday dinner was an excuse to have everyone gather, so as to discuss the real concern facing the family.
“Oh no,” Declan murmured. He instinctively reached for Lorena’s hand, freezing when she stiffened at his action. “I beg your pardon,” he whispered, as he released her hand, as though it were on fire. Gripping his thigh, he clenched his jaw at her persistent rejection and at his ongoing hope that things would change.
“Da,” Niamh asked with a smile. “Why were you insistent we all come to dinner? There’s barely room for all of us.” She frowned as A.J. entered with a wide grin and a wink to Maggie and Mary.
“We always make room for friends,” Seamus said in a voice that brooked no argument. “And we should celebrate wee Gavin’s birthday.”
Niamh demurred, Cormac whispering in her ear.
Soon they were all seated, with A.J. near Seamus and Mary, and Dunmore sitting across from Maggie. At the knock on the back door, Bryan hopped up. “I’ll get it, although they’ll have to sit on the floor!” He flung the door open, his eyes widening. “I’ll sit on the fl
oor,” he stammered out. “You’re very welcome.”
Mary smiled at Madam Nora, rising to run a hand down Bryan’s back. “Sit, love,” she murmured in Bryan’s ear, watching with a wry quirk of her lips as he scurried away, his green eyes wide as he stared at the Bordello owner. He was just about old enough to understand what the Siren’s profession meant.
“Nora,” Mary said, “come join us as we celebrate Gavin’s birthday and say Godspeed to Mr. Pickens and pray for his return next season.”
With a careful glance in Seamus’s direction, Nora smiled. “Thank you. I always enjoy any reason to gather with the O’Rourke family.”
Mary turned to stare at her husband but merely nodded. “There’s never enough chance to celebrate, and there’s always too much work. As wee Bryan said, you’re very welcome.”
“I’m not so wee,” Bryan muttered as he stared at his nephews. “Gavin and Cillian are younger.”
“Aye, that they are, my lad,” Seamus said. “And not nearly as handsome.” He chuckled as Bryan brightened at his comment. After room had been made for everyone present, Seamus said grace and plates were filled. After a hearty, simple dinner, Seamus motioned for everyone to remain seated. “We’ll have cake after our discussion.”
Declan tensed, calming only when Lorena shifted ever-so-slightly in his direction. “Da, do you want me to start?” At his father’s terse nod, Declan looked in Maggie’s direction. “Mags, I’d never want you to worry.”
Maggie tensed, her easy teasing smile as she whispered secrets to Dunmore coming to an abrupt halt. “Worry?” she asked, as she looked around the table. “This isn’t a party at all, is it?”
Shaking his head, Declan tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, although it wasn’t yet long enough that it remained there for longer than a few seconds. “I’ve heard from A.J. and from Madam Nora that Jacques’s interest in you has not abated.”
Maggie froze, staring at them in horror. “Jacques?” she whispered. “I thought he’d forgotten about me.”
“No, Miss Maggie,” Dunmore said in his slow drawl. “He hasn’t.” When she stared at him in betrayal, he reached across the table to clasp her hand. “No, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve tried to keep an ear to the ground for his whereabouts. I discovered earlier this summer that he’s been in a small mining town south of Helena for the past year. But he’s up and disappeared again. I worry he’s on his way back here.”
“But why?” Maggie asked, flushed and nearly out of breath as she fought panic. She sat with stooped shoulders, as though attempting to become invisible.
“Now, my darlin’ girl,” Seamus said, “you know every one of us here will protect you.” He looked around the table as a chorus of “Ayes” sounded at his pronouncement. “But it means you must never wander alone. Not until we know what he has planned.”
Maggie looked to her father and then to Dunmore. “Tell me what you know.” When they shared a long look and appeared reluctant to say anything more, she firmed her jaw and looked down the table to the Madam. “Nora? Please.”
Nora cleared her throat and sat with impeccable posture, as she ignored the warning glance Seamus sent her. “What I have heard is only hearsay, Maggie. Thirdhand at best,” she murmured. “But I find that relaxed men tend to reveal more than they’d like.” When A.J. made a grunt of agreement, she smiled. “From what I’ve been able to piece together from bits of conversation, Jacques plans to return and to steal you away from your family. He doesn’t want you to be with anyone but him.”
At the deafening silence, A.J. spoke. “Aye, that’s what I’ve heard too. And that he’s in cahoots with that puffed-up peacock, Chaffee.” He smiled apologetically at Lorena and Phoebe. “Watch yourselves around him too.”
“Oh, uncle,” Lorena whispered mournfully.
Declan yearned to wrap an arm around her shoulder but feared his sign of compassion would be rebuffed again. Instead he fisted and unfisted his hand on his lap, wishing he could touch his own wife. “I worry they won’t remain focused only on Maggie,” Declan said. “Chaffee’s in debt and becoming desperate. There’s no telling what a man will do when he’s backed into a corner.”
Seamus nodded. “Aye,” he said. “From now on, we all travel in groups. Except for the eldest lads.” He shook his head when the youngest boys began to protest. “And, when we have news, we share it. With all.” He relaxed when Nora nodded. “Now ’tis time for cake and to celebrate wee Gavin. And to mourn the imminent departure of A.J. I can only hope you have the sense to return to us again next year, for you’ll be sorely missed, Captain.”
A.J. smiled at them. “Well, I have to talk it over with my Bessie, but I suspect you’ll be seein’ me again.”
* * *
A few days later, Seamus approached the worksite with a glower and an irate gleam in his eyes. “Lads,” he said to his sons, working on the opposite side of the building from Declan. “Go visit your mum or Deirdre and have a long lunch.” He watched as Kevin and Niall set down their tools and scurried away.
Approaching Declan, Seamus let out a sigh. “Do you really believe this will prove anything, lad?”
“Da,” Declan said, as he spun to face his father. He strode to the water pail, scooped out a handful of water to rub over his face and another for his neck, and then took a sip. Finally he looked at his da again. “What brings you here?”
“I had thought my scholarly son had more brains than a woodpecker, but I can see I was mistaken.” Seamus stood at his full height, his salt-and-pepper hair blowing in the soft breeze.
“Da, you don’t understand,” Declan protested. When Da made a warning sound, and his glower intensified, Declan bit back what more he would have said.
“Don’t tell me I don’t understand when my lad’s gone mad,” he snapped. “Do you think by buildin’ this”—he waved around at the framed structure—“that you’ll prove you love her? That you’ll be worthy of her love?” Seamus shook his head. “You know as well as I do that it doesn’t work that way.”
“Da,” Declan murmured, swallowing as he suddenly fought tears. “I told her that I loved her. I’ve shown her I love her in every way I can.” His blue eyes, eyes that matched his father’s, shone with desperation. “I have to try.”
Seamus strode the few paces to his son, gripping his shoulders. “Talk to your wife, Declan. She’s miserable. Nearly as miserable as you are.”
Closing his eyes, Declan whispered, “I told her that I loved her, Da, and she called me a fool.” He looked at his father. “I thought she was different.”
Seamus hauled him close, wrapping his son in strong arms that had never wavered in his love for him. “Ah, lad, there has to be some misunderstandin’. Something isn’t right in what you say. Either you misheard her or she misspoke.” He leaned back, gazing into his son’s eyes. “What you’re buildin’ is a tribute to the love you have for her, aye. But you should be sharin’ this with her. Gettin’ her opinions and sharin’ the excitement with her. ’Tis half the fun.” He paused. “An’ you have to find a wee bit more courage and face her, Dec. Face her as you truly are, not as you believe she wants you to be.”
Taking a deep breath, Declan nodded. “Aye. Tonight.”
* * *
Lorena worked in the café kitchen, now not nearly as busy as in July, but still with a steady stream of customers. She knew that soon the café would reduce its hours and would offer only one meal a day. However, for now, Ardan and Deirdre were capitalizing on the presence of the numerous men who would never be residents. With a wry smile, Lorena knew she should learn as much as she could from Ardan and Deirdre about running a successful business. Lorena’s smile dimmed, as she doubted she’d ever have a business to run.
“Why the glower, Lorena?” Deirdre asked, as she paused in measuring out ingredients for a batch of cinnamon rolls, which she would leave to rise overnight.
Lorena grimaced, as she hadn’t realized Deirdre was paying her any attention. “Oh, I couldn’t help
but think about my store again. And wish that my own sister hadn’t brought about its destruction.”
Deirdre watched her with patient understanding. “I can’t imagine the heartache you suffered.” She looked around at her kitchen. “Even though I know I could rebuild as long as I had Ardan, it takes time to come to terms with the magnitude of your loss.” She paused. “I fear our family can become focused on rebuilding and not understand that it is necessary to have the time to mourn.”
“Do you believe that?” Lorena asked. “I thought they were considerate of me when I told them my tale and appreciated I needed to mourn.”
Deirdre sighed and rubbed at her head, smearing her forehead with flour. “That’s not what I mean. The men mourn, in their own way, but they also fear loss. All of them, in their own way, suffered at the loss of Mary and Maggie, and with the stepmother. They honor mourning, but I know they shy away from an excess of emotion to hide their vulnerability.”
“Don’t we all?” Lorena asked with a wry smile. She stared at the gentle compassion in Deirdre’s gaze before blurting out, “Declan doesn’t love me anymore.”
Unable to stifle an incredulous laugh, Deirdre shook her head. “You’ve never been more wrong. The man’s mad for you.” She bit her lip. “Plans are afoot, and I can’t speak of them without betraying him.” She paused again. “What do you know to be true, Lorena? Before everything went wrong between you, what was true?”
“He loved me,” she whispered. “I know he did. No man would treat me as he did if he didn’t love me.” Lorena dried her hands and then repinned her red hair into a bun. “I loved him too, but I was never able to tell him.” Suddenly she fought an onslaught of tears. “I wonder if it wouldn’t be better all-around if I just simply leave. I can’t imagine it brings him any joy to suffer through family dinners, seated beside me.”
Pioneer Bliss: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Five Page 19