by Regina Scott
They were halfway up the hill, Maddie pointing out interesting shops to the children, when an older fellow in a fine suit, his whiskers thickest over his chin, stopped them. The tiny woman holding on to his arm must have been his wife.
“Good afternoon, Miss O’Rourke,” he said as he tipped his hat. “Mrs. Horton was asking when we might purchase more of your exceptional ginger cookies.”
“Now, dear,” his wife chided him with an affectionate smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m sure Miss O’Rourke is much too busy preparing for the wedding to bake us cookies.”
The wedding? Was Miss O’Rourke about to be married? A wealthy groom, eager to please his bride-to-be, would explain where the money had come from for passage as well as her fancy clothes and hat. What he couldn’t understand was why the thought of a wedding disappointed him. Was he truly so hurt by Katie’s desertion that he couldn’t see others happy?
Maddie smiled at the couple. “Sure-n but I’ll never be too busy for my best customers. I’ll have a batch ready tomorrow afternoon, just for you.”
Mr. Horton nodded, cheeks pink with obvious pleasure. “I’ll come get them myself,” he promised. “And good day to you and yours.”
With a nod to the couple, Maddie led Ciara and Aiden on.
Ciara glanced back at them. “Who was that? And why did she ask about a wedding?”
Michael walked closer to hear the answer.
“That was Mr. and Mrs. Dexter Horton,” Maddie replied, skirting around a rain barrel that sat at the corner of a building they were passing. “They’ve been loyal customers. They know I’m helping with a wedding for a friend who’s marrying at the end of the month. It will be a grand affair.”
Michael seized on the one word that made sense to him. “Customers. For your laundry?”
Maddie glanced back at him, and he thought a challenge lurked in those dark eyes. “First for my laundry, now for my bakery.”
“A bakery?” Aiden hopped up and down beside her. “You mean with sweets and cakes?”
Maddie turned her smile on him, warmer and more tender, and something inside Michael reached for that smile like a plant seeking light. He thought he knew the source of the reaction. His parents had died when he was about Aiden’s age; he hardly remembered them. Sylvie had been the one to look so kindly at him, to make him feel he was loved and appreciated. Was it any surprise he wanted the same for Aiden and Ciara?
But a bakery? How did a former laundress manage that, either from skill or with finances?
“Sweets indeed,” Maddie promised Aiden, her voice glowing with excitement. “And breads and cakes. As much as you want.”
That didn’t sound like such a good idea. Michael opened his mouth to tell her, then shut it again. She wouldn’t thank him for the suggestion. Still, he couldn’t help wondering whether she was trying to buy their affection.
She certainly didn’t need to buy the affection of Seattle’s citizens. That much was clear by the slow pace at which they progressed up the block of mercantiles. Every man acknowledged her as they passed, tipping his hat or otherwise greeting her as if she were the queen come to visit. By the looks in their eyes, more than one was smitten with her.
They tended to glare at Michael, who merely looked over their heads. He noticed, however, that Maddie didn’t introduce any of them to the children. Was she unsure of the men or ashamed of her kin? The latter didn’t seem likely, as she’d paid their passage and arranged for an escort.
“And here we are,” she sang out, stopping before a narrow, two-story building at the end of the street. A wide window fronted a boardwalk, and a wooden sign over the door proclaimed the place the Pastry Emporium. Aiden’s eyes lit.
“You own this?” he asked, voice heavy with awe.
“Not entirely,” Maddie replied, taking out a ring of keys and inserting one in the door. “A gentleman here finds likely enterprises and funds them to grow. He was persuaded to support my endeavors. I’m paying him back a little at a time, with interest.”
More than a little interest, most likely. Back home, there had always been shifty types ready to lend money, only to demand every penny for years while threatening their clients’ health and the lives of their families. He could imagine Maddie wanting some way to support Ciara and Aiden, but at what cost?
As she opened the door, Ciara and Aiden scampered past her into the shop, and the scent of cinnamon floated out behind them. Maddie gazed at them, her face soft. She drew in a breath as if seeking assurance she could be all they needed. He could almost see the burdens pressing on her shoulders.
It wasn’t right. First Sylvie and now Maddie—working themselves into an early grave to support family foisted upon them by fate.
Michael bent his head to hers. “Taken on more than you can handle?” he murmured, concerned and ready to offer his help.
She straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at him. “Not at all, Mr. Haggerty. You’ll learn I always know exactly what I’m about. If you intend to be of use, you’ll have to keep up.”
She marched into the shop, and he had to catch the door to keep it from slamming in front of him. He’d been raised to help those in distress, particularly a lady. What was he supposed to do when the lady wanted no help from him?
Chapter Three
The nerve of the man! How dare he question her decisions? She’d thought long and hard before taking out a loan to purchase the shop, and furnish it with the tools and supplies she’d need to establish herself as a baker. She was confident she could pay the money back in good time, so long as she proved herself at the wedding.
She forced herself to focus on Ciara and Aiden, who were glancing eagerly around the shop.
“This is where I’ll be selling my goods,” she told them, nodding to the long display counter where light glistened on specks of icing left over from the cinnamon rolls she’d sold that morning. “The high shelves behind it are for the confections and spices I hope to offer one day. And through that curtain is a fine kitchen with a brick oven big enough to cook all manner of sweets.”
“Like in ‘Hansel and Gretel,’” Aiden said, cocking his head to peer through a crack in the curtain. “Only that lady cooked children.” He glanced back at the skeptical-looking Michael, frown forming.
Michael must have interpreted the look, for he came to put a hand to Aiden’s back. “Your sister doesn’t cook children,” he assured the boy. He bent to put his mouth even with her brother’s ear and lowered his voice. “But I’m not so sure about a longshoreman like me.”
“No, silly,” Aiden said. “You’d never fit in her oven.”
“You haven’t seen my oven,” Maddie muttered to herself.
Just then the curtain gave a twitch, as if something waited on the other side. Maddie made herself smile. “Now, there’s one other resident of my bakery you should be meeting. She’s short and round-faced, with gray hair.”
Ciara and Aiden looked at her, gazes quizzical.
“I thought you wanted Sylvie to send you a lady to help,” Ciara said. “Why did you need Michael if you already had one?”
Why indeed? She couldn’t help glancing his way, only to find him regarding her as if she were a piece to a puzzle that just didn’t fit.
“You’ll see in a moment,” Maddie promised her brother and sister. She was merely glad Amelia Batterby hadn’t made herself scarce when strangers arrived. Maddie ventured to the curtain and tugged it aside. A short-haired, gray cat peered up at her, amber eyes wide.
“You have a cat!” Aiden cried, lunging toward her.
Amelia Batterby disappeared like a puff of smoke.
“She’s a bit skittish still,” Maddie explained as Aiden’s face fell. “She came to Seattle as a ship’s cat, and a mighty explorer she was, escaping every time they made port and causing
the captain all manner of concern. He was persuaded to leave her in my care, and she now earns her keep as a mouser. Just know that you mustn’t let her outside, or she’ll escape again.”
Ciara angled her head to see through the curtain. “What’s her name?”
“The captain called her Her Ladyship on account of her proper ways, but I think she looked more like old Amelia Batterby.”
Michael chuckled. “The lady who lived next to Sylvie. I remember her. She was always finding something to concern her.”
Aiden shivered. “She scolded us whenever we even peeked out the door.”
“But she always brought presents for Easter and Christmas,” Michael reminded him.
“What presents does this Amelia Batterby bring?” Aiden asked Maddie.
“Mice and squirrels,” Maddie told him. “And any other vermin that creep into the bakery.”
Ciara winced.
“Maybe she’ll catch you one night,” Michael teased Aiden.
How easily he joked with her siblings, as if he were their brother and her the stranger come to live with them. She shouldn’t be annoyed with him for such a gift, but she was.
“I’m too big for a cat to catch me,” Aiden said. “But I like her. Can she sleep in the bed with us?”
“Very likely she does her best work at night,” Michael told him. “But if she finds her way to the bed, I wouldn’t be protesting.”
And who was he to be deciding that? Although she agreed with him in this instance, she was the one who should have made the decision. And Michael should know that.
Drawing in a breath, she nodded to the far wall. “Did you notice that door to the side, Aiden? That leads to our home.”
Aiden hurried to open the door, and he and Ciara clambered up the wooden stairs. Maddie stepped in front of Michael, preventing him from following.
“We need to come to an understanding, Mr. Haggerty,” she said. “You did your job bringing my brother and sister here. Now they’re my responsibility. Leave any concerns about their upbringing to me.” Satisfied she’d made her point, she turned for the stairs. A firm hand on her arm spun her back around.
All at once she wasn’t looking at a penniless vagabond but a warrior prince ready to defend his country. There was steel in those blue eyes, determination written on every feature.
“I’ll make you a deal, Miss O’Rourke,” he said. “You prove to me you have what it takes to raise Ciara and Aiden, and I’ll stop being concerned. But not one second sooner.”
Heat licked up her. She’d had to fight with herself over the decision to raise her siblings. She had plenty of frustration left to fight him too. “I’ll not be having you speak to me in such a tone, Michael Haggerty. I’m their bone and blood.”
“And I’m the man who’s listened to them cry themselves to sleep at night for the last three months,” he countered. “I don’t understand why you left them behind, and neither do they. I owe you a debt for paying my passage, but if you want my respect and theirs, you’ll have to earn it.”
* * *
There, he’d said it aloud. Aunt Sylvie had always claimed his tendency to stand up for the rights of others would get him into trouble. It had made him a pariah in New York. Likely it had just cost him room and board here. Maddie would be within her rights to toss him out on his ear for such a challenge. If she did, he’d have no recourse but to throw himself on the mercy of the church, if they even had a church yet in Seattle. He waited for her stinging rejoinder.
She took a step back from him and snapped a nod. “Done. And thank you for telling me about the crying. I’ll be sure to watch for that. Bring up their things now, then we’ll find someplace for you to sleep.” She swept past him, lifting her skirts to climb the narrow staircase.
Bemused, Michael could only follow.
Upstairs, the space over the shop had been divided into four rooms—three smaller ones across the back and one larger one facing the street. The larger room held a fat-bellied stove and a tall sideboard along one wall, with a wooden table and chairs in the center. The red-and-white chintz curtains on the window and the red checkered cloth on the table brightened the space.
“Look, Michael,” Aiden cried, gesturing toward the table. “Maddie got chairs enough for us all.”
Maddie’s cheeks turned a pleasing shade of pink. “Sure-n but I was expecting a lady to be coming with you. I thought she’d need somewhere to sit.”
And she wasn’t exactly sure she wanted him to take the lady’s place at the table. Michael set the children’s bag down on the floor. “And what might those rooms be, do you think?” he asked Aiden, nodding toward the three rooms across the back.
With two of the doors open, Michael could see that each of the smaller rooms held a bed on a wooden frame and pegs along the walls for hanging clothes. Ciara and Aiden threaded their way from one room to the next, exclaiming over the colorful quilts on the beds, the framed etching of a lady in a fancy dress that graced one wall.
Maddie stood watching, one arm hugging her waist. A moment ago, she’d been all fire; now she was as soft as smoke. She bit her lower lip as if waiting for Ciara and Aiden to find fault. He couldn’t ignore the urge to assure her.
“You’ve done a fine job of making this a home,” he murmured to her.
She drew in another breath as if she’d needed that affirmation, then reached up and removed the little hat to set it on the table. “So I was hoping,” she told him. “I suppose it will depend on what they think.”
Aiden darted out of the last room. “Who else boards here?” he asked.
“No one,” Maddie said with a smile. “One of the rooms is for you, and the other is for Ciara. The last is mine.”
Aiden stared at her a moment, then let out a whoop and dived into the nearest room. “This one’s mine!”
“That one has a pink-and-white quilt,” Ciara told him, following at a more stately pace. “It’s clearly my room.”
Aiden drew himself up. Michael readied himself to settle the squabble, but Maddie stepped between them. “Sure-n but they’re all the same size. We can change the quilts and move the picture to another room, if you like.”
Aiden made a face, backing away. “Nah. She can have her girlie room. I’ll take the other.” He dashed out the door.
Ciara perched on the bed and gave it a halfhearted bounce. She glanced up at Maddie. “Is this really to be mine?”
“All yours, me darling girl,” Maddie assured her with a smile.
Ciara rose. “Good. Then you can leave.”
Maddie blinked. “What?”
Ciara stood with her eyes narrowed. “You said it was mine. I can do with it as I please. I want to be alone. Now.”
There went Her Highness, Queen Ciara again. For once, even her sister seemed at a loss for words. Michael knew he should allow Maddie to deal with the situation as she’d just demanded. But Ciara couldn’t know how her attitude affected her sister, and he didn’t like seeing either of them hurt.
So he dropped his bag outside the doors to the children’s rooms and sketched a bow. “At once, Your Royal Highness. Just as soon as you remember your lowly servants here.”
Though she raised her little chin, Ciara’s cheeks were turning pink. “I never said you were servants.”
Michael raised his brows. “Oh, didn’t you? You seem to have forgotten that your sister paid for you to come here and gave you all this. There’s such a thing as being grateful.”
Ciara wrinkled her nose, which was nearly as pert as her sister’s. “Why should I be grateful for having to come all this way, leaving all my friends behind? She ought to be grateful I’ll even have anything to do with her.”
Maddie sucked in a breath as if her sister’s words had stung. Michael took a step back, waved at the door.
“Well
, then, perhaps you should be the one to leave, you being such a put-upon lass. The captain said he was heading back to New York. Perhaps you can work your way home by clearing slops out of the kitchen and hosing out the head.”
Ciara turned green. “You wouldn’t do that.”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I’m here to work off my passage. You don’t seem to want to.”
“You’re not my father. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She turned to Maddie. “You won’t make me leave, will you, Maddie?”
Maddie glanced at Michael through the corners of her eyes. “I won’t make you leave, me darling girl, but I can’t be liking how you’re treating me. This is to be your new home.”
Ciara’s mouth worked as if she was chewing on the idea. “All right,” she said. “You can come in. But you have to knock first.” She raised her voice. “And that goes for you too, Aiden O’Rourke.”
From the other side of the wall came a rude noise. “Like I’d want to go in your stupid room.”
Michael gestured to the bag outside their doors. “You’ll each need to come and get your clothes and put them away. No dinner until it’s done right.”
“Fine.” Ciara sashayed out of her room and bent over the bag. Aiden peered out his door, but wisely kept his distance until she had found her things.
“I best be getting food from the larder for dinner,” Maddie murmured before hurrying down the stairs.
Michael sighed. He’d slipped back into his role as guardian even after telling Maddie he expected her to take up the task. But it wasn’t easy handing her the role he’d played for as long as he could remember, first with Sylvie’s other children, and then with Ciara and Aiden.
He hadn’t been surprised to find two more faces at his aunt’s table a few days after Christmas last year. Aunt Sylvie never could resist a call for help. In the crowded tenements that surrounded Five Points, someone was always dying of disease or disability, leaving children alone and frightened. Whenever possible, aunts and uncles and cousins distant and close stepped in, but sometimes no family or friends could be found.