Pioneer Dream
The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga
Ramona Flightner
Grizzly Damsel Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Ramona Flightner
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Ramona Flightner and Grizzly Damsel Publishing. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Cover design by Jennifer Quinlan.
Jefe,
We brainstormed this series
together and you are
with me in spirit
as I write.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
17. Sneak Peek at Pioneer Desire!
Never Miss a Ramona Update!
Also by Ramona Flightner
Ramona’s Reader Note
About the Author
Chapter 1
St. Louis, Missouri; March 1865
He had seen a ghost. Kevin O’Rourke scanned the crowded Saint Louis wharf for the woman who brought back a jumble of emotions he thought he had successfully buried, but she had disappeared into the mass of humanity. Moving with lithe grace, he slipped between men moving heavy freight onto steamboats, passengers waiting to board, and vendors peddling their ware in a last minute attempt to earn a few coin. He ignored the echo of another day, nearly eighteen years ago, when he and his family had been forced from their home in Ireland. However, rather than desperate men and woman crowding the wharf to escape starvation, idealistic men flooded the docks with more dreams than sense who were willing to risk their futures in their desire to reach the gold fields of Montana.
A strong hand on his shoulder interrupted his search. “Kev?” his eldest brother asked with a frown.
Where Kevin was of middling height with auburn hair and hazel eyes that changed with his moods, Ardan stood near six feet tall with jet-black hair and the piercing cobalt blue eyes of their father. All of their brothers, except for Kevin, looked just like their father.
“I thought you were to ensure they loaded the merchandise properly.” Ardan’s voice, like Kevin’s, still held the soft burr of Ireland.
“I was. I am.” He let out a deep breath as his gaze searched for the ephemeral vision. “I … I thought I saw Mum.”
Ardan rocked back a step as though he’d been sucker punched as only a brother knew how to attack a sibling. “’Tis impossible, Kev,” Ardan whispered. “She’s been dead nearly eighteen years.” He shook his head as he turned away, unwittingly searching for her too. “She died with our baby sister.” His voice had dropped to a reverent tone, as it always did when he spoke of their mother and sister who had died in Montreal in October 1847, soon after their arrival from Ireland.
Kevin let out a deep sigh. “I know,” he rasped. “And I don’t need remindin’ of all Da suffered after she died. It’s just … I saw a woman who looks exactly like her and I lost my mind for a moment.”
Ardan nodded before gripping his brother on the shoulder. “Come. Let’s ensure the merchandise is accounted for or Da will never forgive us.”
Kevin followed Ardan as they made their way back to the Deer Lodge, one of a handful of steamboats embarking this week on the long journey north up the Missouri River to the town of Fort Benton. He and Ardan had spent the fall and winter in Saint Louis purchasing supplies to bring back to the burgeoning town on the edge of the Missouri, the innermost port in the world, nearly twenty four hundred river miles away from St. Louis. Their father, Seamus, had begun a mercantile business in Fort Benton to supply the men traveling to the gold fields and he needed the merchandise his sons would arrive with to keep their fledgling company afloat.
Although Kevin knew he or Ardan should remain in Saint Louis to continue to stock the small warehouse they owned here, his father wanted them home. He hated when any of his children were parted from him for long. A dedicated family man, Seamus O’Rourke adored his nine children. Thus, they had entrusted their warehouse and the purchasing of next year’s supplies to a close friend.
“Soon we’ll be home,” Ardan said as he watched the crewmembers loading their crates.
Kevin smiled. “Finn will have a tale to tell about some lass, while Declan will be pinin’ away about another who got away. Niall and Oran will have created mischief with wee Bryan determined to keep up.” His gaze was wistful as he thought about his brothers. “’Twill be grand to see them.”
“Don’t forget Eamon,” Ardan said with a chuckle. “He’s a rascal an’ Da will have his hands full with his antics.”
Kevin grunted as he hefted a heavy crate. After he’d set it down where the crew motioned him to, he walked down the ramp for another one, barely out of breath. “Da spends all his time frettin’ over Niamh.” He shared a long look with Ardan as they lifted a large crate together and carried it onto the steamboat.
“Aye, an’ her worthless, lay about, drunk husband,” Ardan muttered. He sighed. “I wish we’d stopped her.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “What is it that Da says? God help any man who believes he can stop an O’Rourke?” His hazel eyes twinkled with merriment. “She was determined. One day you will be too.”
Ardan shook his head. “No, Kev, not me.” He cast a glance over the crowd as though searching again for their mother. “That is one dream I’ll never have.”
Kevin looked at his eldest brother and paused in helping the crew haul their crates aboard. “Not everyone leaves,” he murmured. “Not everyone dies.” Although he had spoken to reassure his brother, he knew his words were also to soothe himself.
When the steamboat sailed away from Saint Louis, Kevin stood at the railing, battling the sense he had left something or someone of importance behind in that bustling city. He had never been fanciful. He left those emotions to his sister, Niamh, and her disappointing marriage to Connor Ahern. However, no matter how hard Kevin tried, he could not banish his melancholy.
Hearing a frightened squeal, Kevin barely had a chance to catch the woman who had tripped on the deck before she would have tumbled overboard. He grunted as her parasol jabbed him in his leg, and he tossed it aside, grabbing the woman to steady her. She was a few inches shorter than he, plump, and with chestnut colored hair and brown eyes. A rather plain woman on first inspection with horrible fashion sense as her dress was a drab brown color that hung off her like a sackcloth. It made a curious man wonder what she was trying to conceal.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked, a hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, I should have seen the rope, but I was watching the river and the birds,�
�� she admitted with a soft blush. “Forgive me for causing such a fuss.” She spoke with a fine, cultured accent that reminded him of the people he had interacted with during the few years they had spent living in New York City.
He stared at her more closely, suspecting she preferred to blend into the background rather than stand out in the crowd. However, the more he studied her, the lovelier she became. Without her parasol to shield her eyes, she was unable to hide her curiosity about the world around her. Her cheeks were flushed a healthy rose color, and her smile held a friendliness and warmth he had not realized he longed for.
A loud imperious voice sounded, calling her name, and she stood tall, any vitality frozen in her expression.
“’Twas no fuss, and you’re safe. You should enjoy the beautiful surroundings, Miss … ?” he smiled with a hopeful expression.
“O’Keefe,” she whispered.
“Well, Miss O’Keefe, ’tis lovely to meet you. I’m certain I’ll see you again as this will be a long journey to Fort Benton. I’m Kevin O’Rourke.” His warm smile faded as he saw her pale the longer he spoke with her. “I can see you’re worried, but I’m from a fine, upstanding family. I don’t plan on sleeping on the decks.” He nodded to the glassed in area behind her. “I have a stateroom.” His reassurance that he was not one of the many men too poor to purchase a room for the journey did little to ease her tension.
“I’m certain you are all you say you are,” she murmured. She nodded and then scurried away inside where the dining room and staterooms were located. He watched her retreat with curiosity and then shook his head as he turned to stare at the passing scenery again. Birds soared overhead, a breeze blew away the smoke from the steam engines, and the bright sun caused the river water to sparkle. Ships floated down the river, but no others had headed up the Missouri River that day.
Ardan joined him at the railing, a grin making his blue eyes dance with merriment. “I’m the one to scare away the lasses, not you. What did you say to the wee thing?” he asked as he nudged his brother with his shoulder.
Kevin flushed at his brother’s teasing. “I wish I had Finn’s charm.” He rubbed at his temple, an action his father often did when he was frustrated or working out a problem. “She was friendly before someone called out to her.” His delighted smile burst forth. “A Miss O’Keefe.” He paused a moment and whispered, “Aileen,” as he recalled the name that had been bellowed.
“O’Keefe?” Ardan asked as he grinned at his brother. “Da always said he wanted his boys to marry good Irish women.”
Kevin’s flush grew brighter. “Don’t be gettin’ ideas, Ardan.” He tried to ignore the flash of memory at seeing Miss O’Keefe’s enjoyment at watching the scenery before the voice called out to her. Of how right she had felt in his arms.
Ardan moved so that he stood with his back to the railing, his strong arms crossed over his chest. The breeze fluttered his black hair, and the mischief in his eyes made him look younger than thirty-two. “You’re the one who has ideas, Kev. That’s what worries you.”
Kevin pushed at his brother’s shoulder, laughing as Ardan acted as though he would fall overboard. “Incorrigible,” he muttered about his eldest brother and best friend.
“Ah, but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
Kevin sighed and agreed, and they watched the passing scenery in silence for many minutes.
Aileen O’Keefe entered the stateroom that would be her home for two months, and unpinned her brown hat. She ran a hand over her dun colored outfit, regretting her chaperone’s determination to make her appear like a dowdy mouse rather than a vibrant, interesting woman. Although she was twenty-three, her chaperone continued to treat her like a child. “There was no need to scold me like I was two,” she chided Janet Davies, her late mother’s sister. Her aunt insisted on being called Mrs. so as to deflect any unwanted male interest and to garner the respect of a widowed woman. She resented her previous treatment as a spinster.
“If you think there was no need, I’m afraid it will be necessary for you to spend the entirety of this voyage in this stateroom,” her aunt snapped. “You were in another man’s arms! And he’s not your betrothed. What would the man think, to learn you are so loose with your affections?”
Aileen rubbed at her temple as a headache was already brewing. “Aunt, I tripped and he caught me. Like a hero, he was, preventing me from falling over board. It would be better to arrive alive than have you inform the man I died upon departure from Saint Louis.” She stared at her aunt. “Besides, perhaps he is my intended as he lives in Fort Benton.” She watched her aunt for any sign of who her aunt had betrothed her to.
Her aunt snorted. “I think I can do better than that man,” she said with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “I will tell you nothing about your betrothed until you meet him. I want you to form your own opinion on the man, the true man, not some romanticized notion of him you create as you spend the next two months traveling up this river.” She speared her niece with a dissatisfied glare. “You’re far too fanciful.”
Aileen rubbed at her temple at hearing one of her aunt’s favorite complaints about her. She was too fanciful. A romantic. Had her head in the clouds. A senseless girl who would ruin them forever. She focused on her aunt rather than the litany of complaints that reverberated through her mind on constant repeat.
Her aunt continued with her original criticisms, seeming overjoyed to have something else to henpeck her with. “Women with loose morals and no prospects have a need for such shenanigans as tripping and falling into a man’s arms, Aileen O’Keefe. Must I remind you that you are no longer in such a predicament?” Her aunt’s blue eyes shone with determination. “That is something your father’s sisters had need of at one time. But not you. You have done well for yourself.”
Aileen sighed at the reminder that her mother had married below her family’s expectations when she married Cathal O’Keefe. Although he was a man of vision, he had lacked any action to match his words. Unfortunately for her mother, she had not realized that disparity until after they had eloped and she was pregnant with Aileen. Within five years, Aileen’s father had run off to chase the dream of gold in the west and her mother had died. If her Aunt Janet had not taken her in, she would have been raised in an orphanage.
However, now that Aileen was twenty-three, her aunt’s most fervent dream was to see her wed to a well-established, respectable man of her aunt’s choosing. Aunt Davies hoped it would bring esteem back to the family name. She ridiculed Aileen for having any hopes or dreams for her marriage, insisting Aileen owed her for taking Aileen in.
With that goal in mind, Janet Davies had responded to the advertisement for a mail order bride on behalf of her niece and had bullied Aileen until she had agreed to travel to Fort Benton on a prepaid ticket. However, Aileen had refrained from telling her aunt that her agreement to travel had not meant she agreed to marry the man in question. She remained hopeful she would meet a man of her own choosing. However, the likelihood of that occurring before they arrived at Fort Benton became more unlikely every day as her aunt stuck to her like horse dung to her shoe.
She fought a smile as she envisioned the handsome man who had held her securely in his strong arms to prevent her from falling. She hoped she hid her subtle shiver as she remembered his soft brogue and she hoped he had told the truth that he would be one of the men in the dining room tonight. As she fingered her plain dress, she wished she had something more remarkable to wear to garner his notice.
Kevin maneuvered so that he sat beside Miss O’Keefe, ignoring the glower from the older, sour faced woman beside her. He maintained a sober expression, although his eyes glinted with delight as Aileen stilled at the sight of him. “Miss O’Keefe,” he murmured, motioning her to sit before he sat next to her.
“Mr. O’Rourke,” she murmured as she sat. When the five women present in the dining room had sat, the men in the room settled in their chairs. Kerosene lamps lit the area and the steamboat rocked subtly in p
lace under the constant flow of the Missouri River. The captain had anchored the boat in the middle of a calm section of the river, fearing Indians might attempt to sneak aboard if he tethered the ship to the shore. Although Kevin thought that was unlikely this early on in the trip, he knew that was a real concern as they approached Montana Territory.
The fine china and crystal sparkled under the kerosene light and the white linen tablecloths remained starched and unstained. The bright lights allowed Kevin to easily study Miss O’Keefe’s expression and he was eager to further his acquaintance with her.
Kevin noted absently that Ardan had placed himself beside the mealy mouthed woman seated next to Miss O’Keefe and Kevin hoped his eldest brother could keep the woman occupied so Kevin could speak with the young woman who intrigued him. “What a pleasure to see you tonight,” he said.
She flushed and then shook her head at him. “As we are traveling on the same steamboat, and you were not lying when you said you had purchased a stateroom, it appears we will have many meals together.” She flushed beet red. “Not that I’m implying you should want to always sit beside me and eat with me.”
He chuckled as she seemed flustered and about to bolt from dinner. “I believe there is little that would bring me greater pleasure than sitting beside you each evening, learning more about you.”
She calmed and her brown eyes studied him. As her nerves faded away, her smile transformed into one of teasing and her gaze of assessment. “Are you always so charming? Or is it merely an innate gift from your heritage?”
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