Instant Frontier Family

by Regina Scott

  “Now we wait,” he guessed.

  She laughed. “Now we hurry, Mr. Haggerty.”

  And hurry they did. While Maddie went outside with a basket to gather eggs, Michael began washing the dishes. She took one of the bowls, then shaved sugar from a cone, pounded it to powder with a pestle and mixed it with water for icing. Next, she mixed dough for cookies, rolled and cut them to lay them on a sheet, and popped them into the oven after she had removed the bread and rolls to cool. She never sat down, never stopped moving, even when he helped her carry her wares out to the shop to set them on display.

  The newly risen sun was gilding the signs of the merchants across the street as Michael glanced out the panes of the front window. But what took him aback were the faces pressed against the glass.

  “Me charming customers,” Maddie assured him. She pointed toward the stairs. “Go on, now. Take some of the cinnamon rolls upstairs for you and Ciara and Aiden. I should be finished here in a half hour.”

  All that bread, all those rolls and cookies, gone in a half hour? He couldn’t believe it. She’d be working for hours to sell all that. As she went to open the latch, he picked up three of the rolls, then headed for the stairs. Glancing back, he saw her throw wide the door.

  And every man in Seattle, he thought, stampeded into the shop. Dressed in flannel shirts and rough trousers, caps pulled down over their lank hair, bushy beards bristling, they crowded the counter, the sound of their heavy boots against the wood planks as loud as thunder. Voices rose in entreaty, hands held out coins. They were the happiest gang of rioters he’d ever seen.

  One of the men with a deep voice managed to make himself heard over the din. “Whatcha got for us today, Miss Maddie?”

  “Cinnamon rolls dripping icing,” Maddie assured him, beaming around at them all. “Fresh-baked bread with the steam still rising and gingersnaps to tickle your tongue.” She waved one arm down the display counter as if presenting jewels to royalty.

  “I’ll take one of each,” someone declared.

  “I’ll take two!” another shouted.

  Voices rose louder as they surged forward.

  How could he leave her surrounded?

  Michael wasn’t sure how he heard the noise on the stair. Looking back, he saw Ciara creeping toward him. Her brown hair was tumbled into her face, and she hugged a plaid flannel wrapper around her nightgown.

  “Is it the mob?” she whispered, face pinched. “Have they come for us, then?”

  She must be remembering the violence that had cut like metal through the fabric of life in Five Points, as the Dead Rabbits clashed with other gangs.

  “Just some happy customers come to sample your sister’s baking,” Michael assured her. He handed her the rolls. “Take these upstairs for you and your brother. I’ll be up shortly.”

  Her face brightened as she accepted the rolls. Holding them close, she scurried back up the stairs.

  Michael turned to the fray. Maddie was handing out loaves, rolls and cookies at breathtaking speed and grabbing payments even faster. He wasn’t sure how she knew which came from whom. He started to wade through the men, but they squeezed closer, frowning at him as if thinking he was trying to reach the food before they did. He was only thankful he could match or better the muscle arrayed against him.

  With the liberal use of his shoulders, he managed to reach the counter and slide in next to Maddie. “How can I help?”

  “Take their money and give them what they want,” she said, turning her smile on the next fellow. The wizened man asked for a roll and a half-dozen cookies, and she named an exorbitant price that would have set the denizens of Five Points to crying with despair or laughing at the sheer lunacy of it. The man piled his silver on the counter, offering a toothless grin.

  “How about you?” Michael asked the next fellow.

  This man was tall and lean, short-cropped dark hair showing under the edge of a broad-brimmed black hat. His gaze swept over Michael as cold and gray as the Confederate cannon on display in the Battery.

  “I’ll wait for Miss O’Rourke,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

  Was he a suitor? She certainly hadn’t mentioned a particular fellow. In fact, she’d seemed pretty against marriage last night.

  “Suit yourself,” Michael told him.

  He tried the next man over and the one after him, but the answer was always the same. Even though the food was disappearing by the moment, every man was content to wait until Maddie could serve him personally.

  That’s when it struck Michael. They weren’t here because they loved Maddie’s baking. They were here because they loved Maddie!

  He wanted to throw wide his arms, shove them all out of the shop right then and there. They had no right to treat her as if she was one of her own confections, available for a smile and some pieces of silver. Yet even as the thought poked at him, he knew it was none of his affair. In the end, the only way he could help matters was to control the crowd.

  Stalking around the edges, shoulders thrown back and eyes narrowed, he managed to herd the men into some semblance of a line. At least then they couldn’t all rush her at once. He yanked back a few who tried to push ahead before their turn, made one fellow sit down on the floor when he shouted for her attention. One by one, they bought their food and left.

  A gentle rain had begun to fall as he opened the door to let out the last two men. The one who had first refused Michael’s services paused to glance back at Maddie.

  “Hired a man-of-all-work, have you now, Miss O’Rourke?”

  Maddie’s smile was as sweet as the icing on her rolls. “Mr. Haggerty brought my sister and brother to me on the ship, Deputy McCormick. He’s staying with us until he finds a job.”

  Deputy. So this was the law in Seattle. Michael met his gaze straight on, refusing to be the one to look away first. The deputy’s steely eyes narrowed.

  “Yesler is looking for another man on his saws,” the lawman offered. “Long hours but good pay. And there are rooms at Patterson’s boardinghouse by the mill.”

  Michael nodded, relaxing. “My thanks to you. I’ll go by the mill today.”

  Deputy McCormick touched the brim of his black hat to Maddie, then stalked out.

  As Michael shut the door behind him, Maddie collapsed against the counter. “Like ravens, they are, swooping in to devour.” She glanced around the empty counter and smiled. “But they are loyal, bless them.”

  Surely she knew it went beyond loyalty. “They’re sweet on you, every last one of them,” Michael told her.

  She tsked, pushing off from the counter. “It isn’t me. They act that way with every unmarried female within miles, all twenty of us.”

  Michael found that hard to believe. “They’d pay those kind of prices to any woman?”

  Maddie shrugged as if the matter were out of her hands. “There are nine men for every female over the age of twelve here. Before we came on the Continental, fellows were paying fathers to hold their newborn daughter to marry when she was of age, just so they’d know they’d have a wife someday.”

  “That’s madness,” Michael said, stepping away from the door.

  “That’s loneliness,” Maddie countered, pulling open the curtain to the kitchen. “I suppose they think it’s better to have a spouse than live alone. Can’t say I agree with them.”

  Was she so willing to encourage her customers, only to leave the men dangling? He couldn’t help thinking of Katie, with her sweet smiles and warm words, until he’d refused to risk his future to help the Dead Rabbits. He’d wondered whether she was the only woman to think her power was more important than her suitor’s love. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed to find Maddie O’Rourke might think the same way.

  Michael followed her into the kitchen. “With dozens of suitors to choose from, you haven’t found one
to your liking?” he asked, trying for a light tone. “Are your standards so high, Maddie?”

  She chuckled as she pulled a canister from under her worktable and pried off the lid. “Sure-n I could find more than one fellow in that lot to marry, if marriage was important to me.” She jingled the coins she drew from her skirts and dropped them into the tin with a clank. “As it is, if I marry I have to share all this. Why would I want to be doing that, when it’s my efforts that earned it in the first place?”

  He couldn’t argue with her there. He knew the law generally granted any money a woman earned to her husband. But to be so coldhearted about it? That didn’t make sense.

  She cocked her head, watching him. “You look disappointed in my answer. Did you think I should give up my dreams to marry? You never let love get in the way of your goals, did you now? You wouldn’t have let your Katie sway you from your intended course.”

  “I fell in love,” he admitted, “but I never lost sight of my goals. If I had been willing to compromise my values, I might be married by now.”

  “Love is compromise from what I can see,” she said, going to the washbasin, wetting a cloth and wringing it out. “You work and work to put food on the table and clothes on your back, until there’s no time left for love. Sure-n but we’re better off without such heartache.” She tossed him the rag, and he caught it in one hand. “Use that to clean off the counter. I’ll go up to check on Ciara and Aiden, and then I’ll start the baking for this evening.”

  In the act of pushing back into the shop, Michael paused. “More baking?”

  She laughed. “You make it sound as pleasant as the rack. Yes, more baking. That’s my job. This is a bakery, and I bake. I was hoping for a lady to come with Ciara and Aiden to help, if you recall.”

  And she’d gotten him instead. “I’m sorry I can’t be more use to you,” he said, “but I’ll do what I can.” Feeling inept for the first time in his life, he went to clean off the counter, wiping away the crumbs and scrubbing at the drips of icing. Yet her words refused to leave him.

  He wanted to agree with her that love meant heartache. He’d certainly had his fill. But some part of him whispered that more might be possible, if he would but try once again.

  He had been so focused on his task that he didn’t see her move into the room. Instead, he felt her hand on his arm.

  “Good enough, Mr. Haggerty,” she said. “Another minute and you’ll rub right through the wood.”

  He relaxed his hand, feeling her grip soften. She was close enough that he could see a dusting of freckles across the tip of her nose, as if ginger had escaped some of her cookies. Cinnamon-colored lashes fluttered over eyes as dark as fresh-roasted coffee.

  Michael mentally shook himself. Working in the bakery must have addled his brain, because all he could think about was that her kiss would taste as sweet as her cooking.

  “Are they gone?” Ciara asked from the stair.

  Maddie stepped away from Michael, cheeks turning pink as if she’d been the one thinking about sweet kisses.

  “For the moment,” she told her sister. “There will be another group coming later, when the shift changes at the mill. I aim to have more loaves of bread and dozens of cookies ready by then along with the ones I promised Mr. Horton.”

  With her chin up, she was all determination, and Michael could only marvel at her energy.

  But even more surprising was his reaction to her. He’d given his heart to Katie. He’d never thought to give it to another. And she’d made it clear that, while she might flirt with her customers, she had no interest in marrying.

  Why, then, did he want her to reserve her flirting for him?

  Chapter Six

  Maddie could only be glad for her sister’s interruption. For a moment, with her hand on Michael’s burly arm, she had felt as if the earth had tilted, pushing her toward him. Why? It was all well and good to talk about true loves and lost hearts, but in the end she’d only be disappointed. She had too much evidence to think otherwise.

  So, broad-shouldered or not, charming smile or not, Michael Haggerty would get no further in her affections. She knew her plans, and they did not include forming an attachment to any fellow, no matter how helpful and well-meaning.

  Standing at the foot of the stairs now, Ciara scrunched her face. “More work, more noise? What sort of place is this?”

  Her sister’s complaints were like touching a hot stove with her bare hand—sharp and painful. She’d worked so hard to make a home for Ciara and Aiden. Could her sister not appreciate the effort?

  “This is a home with plenty of food to eat,” Maddie told her. “That’s a blessing.”

  Ciara shrugged. “The rolls were good. But I’m not going to sit in my room all day while you have all the fun.”

  “Fun, is it?” Maddie said, temper rising. “Perhaps I ought to wake you at three in the morning to help knead tomorrow’s dough.”

  Her sister scowled at her.

  Michael leaned his hip against the counter. “You seemed awfully pleased with that room yesterday,” he reminded Ciara.

  The girl eyed him. “It’s nice too, I suppose.”

  What crumbs of affection she offered! Had her sister no understanding? Maddie tightened her lips to hold back a scold.

  Michael merely smiled at Ciara. “But you have the urge to wander, is that it?” he teased with a look to Maddie.

  Maddie blinked. Of course! That must be the source of today’s animosity. Ciara and Aiden had been cooped up aboard ship for months. It was only natural that they’d want to get out, explore their new home. And that was one yearning she could satisfy.

  “Let’s go see Seattle,” Maddie told Ciara. “Make sure you and Aiden are ready for the day. Do your chores as I asked. I’ll mix up the next batch of dough. We can take a walk while it rises and I can make a delivery.”

  “All right,” Ciara agreed. “But don’t expect me to hold your hand while we walk. I’m not a child, you know.” She turned and flounced up the stairs.

  “Nicely done,” Michael said, straightening away from the counter.

  “Thank you,” Maddie replied. “But I was only following your lead.”

  He smiled. “Glad to help. I’ll join you on your walk, if I may, so I’ll know where to start looking for work.”

  “Of course,” Maddie said. “But perhaps you should be putting on shoes first.”

  He glanced down at his stockinged feet, the thick gray yarn darkened with grime after he’d traipsed across the floorboards so many times, then rubbed the dark stubble speckling his chin. “And I should shave as well,” he said before he pounded up the stairs.

  A short while later, the four of them left the front of the bakery. Maddie was careful to lock the door behind her. Seattle was remarkably free from crime, especially compared with Five Points, but she wasn’t taking any chances with her livelihood. She could only hope today Michael might find an opportunity for a livelihood of his own.

  “What sort of work are you seeking?” she asked, Mr. Porter’s shirts tucked under one arm as they strolled down the boardwalk. The bakery was the last shop on the street, but she knew Seattle would only grow from there. Already someone else was building a new store down the block.

  Michael eyed her over Ciara’s head. “I’ll take whatever I can get for the moment. I just want to pay my way.”

  “Well, you ought to find something here,” she said, lifting her skirts to navigate a gap in the boardwalk. Ciara hopped from hump to hump, but Aiden slogged merrily through the puddles. A breeze came in off the water, moist and briny, setting the clapboard signs above them to creaking as she climbed onto the next stretch of boardwalk.

  Ahead of them, the door of a mercantile opened and three natives exited, murmuring in husky voices. Hair slicked down and smelling of aromatic oils, color
ful blankets draping their sturdy frames, they moved past Maddie and the children with dignity born of sorrows. Maddie nodded respectfully to them. Aiden stopped and stared.

  Maddie put a hand on his shoulder and turned him back the way they were going. “That’s enough, me lad.”

  “But those were Indians,” he whispered as if concerned the elders might turn and pounce on him any moment. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll scalp us?”

  “There hasn’t been an uprising in over ten years,” Michael told him. He must have caught Maddie frowning at him, for he shrugged. “I read it in the newspapers.”

  How he rushed to assure the children. She ought to be miffed with him taking over her role again, but she found she couldn’t be. He’d meant well.

  “The natives hereabouts are generally peaceable,” Maddie told Aiden. “They have homes and jobs and families, and you’ll be treating them with respect just as you would any other adult you meet.”

  Aiden frowned as if he hadn’t thought about things that way before. Maddie patted his shoulder. “I can teach you a few words in their language. We learned some on the way here.”

  Her brother brightened.

  They continued down the street together, Maddie pointing out things she thought might interest Ciara and Aiden. She made sure to show Michael the way to Yesler’s Mill, the boardinghouse where she delivered Mr. Porter’s shirts and the harbor. She also drew his attention to every Help Wanted sign she spotted in the shop windows.

  By the time they returned to the bakery, Ciara and Aiden were talking about all the things that they’d seen. Michael once again was quiet, and Maddie could only hope it was because his mind was full of plans. As her siblings clambered up the stairs, Maddie started for the kitchen, and Michael paused.