“Oh, my sweet Jaysus,” he breathed at the thought his mother might be married while his father hoped and plotted for a reunion a few blocks away. The boys looked up and stared at him curiously before whispering to each other in a language he didn’t understand. He took a deep breath and approached them. “I beg your pardon, but I’m looking for your mother,” he said in a voice he hoped was reassuring.
They jumped up, running inside, calling out loud at the top of their lungs for ma mere. Kevin stood near the front door battling his urge to turn on his heel and flee. Instead he stood tall and waited as he heard a soft voice--- a voice from his childhood--- soothe the excited voices inside. He watched as the woman he had seen on the Saint Louis dock emerged from the small house. “Mum?” he whispered at the sight of her.
She gripped the frame of the door, her expression not lighting with delight at the sight of him. She turned to her younger sons, speaking to them in a low voice. They cast a lingering look over him before scurrying away. After taking a bracing breath, she lifted her gaze, her eyes roving over him as though to take in every detail of his appearance. It was as though she catalogued the way he had grown into his lanky frame, the scruff on his cheeks, the determined gleam in his eyes, and the fine cut of his black suit. She closed the door behind her to grant them a bit more privacy.
“You always looked like me, Kevin, but you have the air of your father about you now,” she whispered, her voice low.
“Aye, only Niamh and I had the look of you. The rest look like Da.” He took a step toward her, freezing when she backed up. His eyes glinted with pain at her rejection. “I … I don’t understand, Mum,” he rasped. His eyes glowed with hurt and confusion. “Why do you not want us?”
“Kevin,” she whispered. As she was about to take a step toward him, the front door burst open and a burly man with sandy blond hair, unkempt beard and a wild look in his eyes stepped out.
“What do you want here, boy?” he asked with a deep French accent. “We have no need of charity.”
“I’m not here for charity,” Kevin said, his shoulders back.
“Good. Save your Bible thumping ways for those who care to listen.” He grabbed Mary by the upper arm, dragged her inside and slammed the door.
Kevin stared at the closed door, more confused than he cared to admit about his first interaction with his mother in nearly eighteen years. He spun away, walking the short distance to the riverbed, but choosing a spot away from the bustle of the levee. He stared at the river, its ever constant flow soothing as he fought to calm his anger and unmet expectations after seeing his mother again for the first time in so long.
When he’d calmed, he thought about what had happened and frowned. His mum had not seemed pleased at the arrival of that other man, nor had she had the ability to decline his demand she return inside the house. He hated the resigned desolation in her gaze. As though the hopeful, vivacious woman of his youth no longer existed.
“Oh, Mum,” he whispered.
“Hello, Mr. O’Rourke,” a quiet voice said behind him and he spun to face the person interrupting his introspection.
“Miss O’Keefe,” he sputtered. “I did not hear you approach.”
She smiled as she pressed her hands over her cotton dress. “I fear you wouldn’t have heard a herd of buffalo approach, you were so lost in your thoughts.” When he grimaced, she flushed. “I beg your pardon for speaking in such a rash manner. I fear I do that too often with you.”
“No,” he said as he grinned at her. “I like it. I’d hate for you to change to fit someone’s idea of what you think they want you to be.”
She flushed with pleasure this time rather than embarrassment. “I fear I caused problems between you and your brother. I never meant---” Her brown eyes widened with shock as he held a finger over her lips to silence whatever else she was going to say.
“No,” he whispered. “No more. I---my brother an’ I will come to an agreement. Somehow. But I can’t speak of any more strife today, Aileen,” he murmured, his gaze glinting with pleasure as her breath seemed to catch at his soft touch and the use of her first name. “I---not today,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.
“What happened to you?” she asked, her fingers gently stroking his hand by his side. “You seem defeated today, and you’re the last man I ever thought would act like that.”
He chuckled mirthlessly. “I can’t say, love.” He flushed as the endearment slipped out. “But I will say to be careful what you wish for. For sometimes it comes true.” He gave her a rueful smile before slipping away, leaving her to stare after him in confusion.
Kevin reentered the warehouse and attempted to ignore the curious stares from his brothers, Ardan and Declan, who worked to unload the crates shipped up from Saint Louis. They liked to have their supplies stored in an orderly fashion in their warehouse so that they could easily restock their store. Thankfully their father always stocked plenty of foodstuffs as he remained fearful of hunger, and he ensured his family would never go hungry again.
Kevin moved to the side of the warehouse where a large stack of crates rested, standing as far as possible from his brothers working in tandem. The last person he cared to speak with was Declan, but he knew he would have to face him at some point.
“Da wants to see you,” Ardan called out when he paused, swiping at his forehead as sweat trickled off his brow.
Kevin’s shoulders stooped and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where is he?”
“His office,” Ardan said, signaling to a small room to the side of the warehouse.
Kevin swiped his palms on his pants and moved to the closed door. After knocking, he waited only a moment for his father to call out for him to enter. “Da?” he asked.
“Kevin,” Seamus said with a concerned smile. “Please, have a seat.”
Kevin looked at his father’s neat desk with stacks of bills set around him in tidy piles and two ledgers at his right elbow. A window to his right brightened the room, although there were hooks for lanterns for the evenings his father chose to work after their family dinner. He always made a point to be home for supper with his children.
Seamus leaned against the back of his chair and steepled his fingers. Although he no longer toiled in the fields, he had not allowed his body to go to fat. He worked alongside the men as each steamboat and wagon with O’Rourke supplies arrived, relishing in the hard, honest labor. He also enjoyed knowing the latest gossip from the deck hands about the reality of the journey from Saint Louis, rather than relying on the sugar coated half-truths from the captains. “I think you would benefit from time away from Fort Benton.”
“Da?” Kevin breathed as he shrunk into himself. “No, not now.”
Seamus’s blue eyes gleamed with interest at his words. “Why not now, my lad?” He waited as Kevin remained silent. “Is it because you’ve taken too great an interest in your brother’s lass?”
Kevin clenched his jaw. “How could you, Da? Send away for a woman as though anyone would do?”
Seamus tilted his head to the side, studying his son with fond affection. “Have you spoken with your brother? Asked him why I thought to do it?”
“Da?”
“I may want my boys settled, but I have dreams of you marrying good, fine women. Of you having the joy I knew.” His eyes shone with sincerity.
“Not with Colleen,” Kevin whispered. He saw the flash of pain in his father’s eyes as Da shook his head and then rose to pace toward the window.
“No, never with her.” He bowed his head. “You’re old enough, lad, to know I married out of desperation. And out of a desire to not feel such desolate loneliness.” He let out a breath. “You can’t know what it was like after …” He faced his son. “I will not have you ruin your brother’s chance for happiness.”
Kevin clenched his hands. “What if he’s ruining mine?”
“Feck,” Seamus rasped as he shook his head and rubbed at his brow. “I was never meant to father all of you alone. I
always knew I’d fail.”
“No, Da,” Kevin exclaimed. “You’ve been dedicated to us from the moment we were born. Never did you act as though we were a burden.” He shrugged. “I never doubted your love.”
“You’re a fine lad,” Seamus said, pride glinting in his eyes. “Your mother will burst with love to see you again.” He frowned as Kevin flinched at his words. “Lad?”
“I visited Mum today. She did not seem pleased to see me,” he whispered, his shoulders hunched as though attempting to protect himself from the truth of his words.
Seamus leaned against the windowsill, shaking his head in confusion. “I can understand her anger at me. Somehow she feels I abandoned her.” His eyes glowed with impassioned anger. “Although I don’t understand how she doesn’t know I never intentionally would have.” At Kevin’s nod of understanding, he stared at his son. “But she should have preened with joy at the sight of you. Run to you to hold you close. Been filled with pride at the man you are now.”
“She wouldn’t touch me. Didn’t want me to …” He bit his tongue and swore under his breath.
“Kevin?”
He met his father’s penetrating gaze. “She has other sons, Da. An’ she lives with a mean man who dragged her back inside.”
Seamus walked to the seat behind his desk and collapsed into it. “Her husband?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin murmured. “But he wasn’t kind and he wasn’t gentle as he forced her inside.”
His father raised his eyes, his gaze glinting with impassioned determination. “Well, my boy, if there’s one thing I know, I’m her husband. And neither of us is dead. Which means, by law, she belongs with me.”
Chapter 6
That evening, Mary worked in the small kitchen in the house her brother-in-law had obtained for them. She knew he hoped to travel soon to the town of Virginia City, but she prayed his travels would be delayed. She closed her eyes as she thought about seeing Kevin again. Although she had tried not to torment herself with images of what her children would look like, she had imagined them every day as they grew. Her sons growing tall and strong and into men. Niamh transforming into a beautiful woman. In the deep recesses of Mary’s heart, those imaginings had eased a sorrow that had never abated. But never could she have envisioned the proud, handsome man her Kevin had become.
She smiled as she thought of Kevin, hoping he was happy. Hoping he had found love and joy. She screeched as a strong hand gripped her arm and spun her away from the stove front. “Jacques,” she gasped. “What’s the matter?”
His eyes were lit with fury as he glared at her. “You said he died,” he growled in his deeply accented voice. “You said you were a free woman!” He took a step toward her and she sidled away from the hot stove backing into a corner near the wood box.
“Jacques, there’s been a misunderstanding,” she said in a soothing voice. She raised her hands in a placating manner, but her ability to calm him when he was in a rage had abated long ago. Her breath emerged in pants as she waited to see if this rage was momentary or one of a longer duration. She prayed something or someone would distract him as she backed into the corner with nowhere to hide.
“Oh, you think because I was a trapper, that I am a stupid man? An idiot?” He said that word with a French inflection. His eyes had a maniacal glint to them as she shook her head over and over again as though trying to convince him with a silent plea. “You make my brother a laughingstock!”
“No,” she cried, her voice breaking with her plea. “Never.”
“Your boys are no better than bastards!” he screamed as he raised his hand to strike her.
She turned her head and the full force of his blow landed on the back of her skull, although she lurched forward and hit her forehead on the wooden wall. He continued to beat at her back, ignoring her cries and screams of pain, until she lay on the floor, quaking and shivering from his attack.
“You do not live here anymore,” he rasped as he kicked her viciously in her leg, smiling as he earned a grunt. “Get up!” When she was slow to rise, he gripped her under her armpit and dragged her outside, dumping her on the street area in front of their house. “You and your sons do not live here anymore.”
“Margaret,” she rasped, the pain of her recent beating preventing her from rising. “Please don’t hurt her.” Tears obscured her vision as he strode from her, slamming the door shut. “Margaret!” she screamed. She continued to call out for her daughter, the rain that now fell soaking through every layer of clothing until she shivered with cold. When she was hoarse, she continued to stare at the door, praying for her daughter to appear. However, the door remained shut, with Maggie nowhere in sight. She lowered her head as she fought an overwhelming despair.
Seamus sat in the Madam’s comfortable back room, enjoying a quiet moment as the Bordello slowly came to life. He held a glass of whiskey and he gave quiet thanks he was inside, rather than out in the rain that had begun to pelt the rear window. “Miserable night,” he murmured.
“I know we are destined to be less than acquaintances if you are already talking about the weather,” Madam Nora teased. She smiled and winked at Seamus as she continued to work on her ledgers. After a moment, she lifted her head, one ear cocked toward the door as though listening for a disruption in front. “Seamus,” she murmured an instant before her office door burst open.
“Da! Da!” Kevin yelled as he raced inside without knocking first, Ezra on his heels. “Da!” he cried again as he saw his father, fully clothed and apparently chatting with a fine looking woman dressed in peacock colored satins that shimmered around her. Seamus cradled a glass of whiskey between his fingers, the only vice he seemed inclined to partake of that evening.
“Kevin?” Seamus asked as he raised an eyebrow at the precipitous arrival of his son in a place he hoped Kevin would never frequent. He saw Nora wave Ezra away.
“It’s Mum, Da,” Kevin gasped out. “She’s beaten and bruised and been thrown out.”
The glass of whiskey slipped from Seamus’s fingers and he rose, gripping his son’s shoulder. “Where is she?” His blue eyes gleamed with terror. “Tell me you know where she is!”
“I’ll take you to her,” Kevin said.
Seamus took off after his son, calling out his thanks and goodbye to the Madam. They raced from the bordello and through town, the early summer rainstorm drenching them and making the roads muddy. When they arrived at the warehouse, they were soaked through with mud splattering the lower half of their legs. Kevin thrust the door open and Seamus burst inside, his intent gaze searching for Mary.
He saw her, propped against a bundle of linens. “Mary,” he whispered. He frowned as he saw no notable bruises, but she shrank away from his touch. “My love, what has happened?”
Her hazel eyes shone with despair as she looked at him. “I have nothing. Nowhere to go. And I’ve lost them all. What will I do?”
Seamus dropped to his knees and reached out with a shaking hand to touch her. When she didn’t bat away his hand, he caressed her arm and then her head. “Shh, lass, you’re safe now. We’ll care for you. We’ll always care for you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She closed her eyes. “You won’t keep.”
He flinched at her words but eased onto the ground until he sat in front of her. He continued to stroke soft fingers over her as he murmured his love and praise of her. After a few minutes, he scooted forward, urging her to lean against him. “There’s my lass, my Mary,” he whispered as he held her in his arms. “I have you. And I’m never lettin’ you go.” He kissed her head, shuddering at the absolute joy of having her in his arms again.
He looked up to see Ardan, Declan and Kevin watching them. “Can you lads tell me what happened?”
They shook their heads before Ardan spoke up. “We decided to work late tonight. With the arrival of another steamboat today, we had plenty to do.” Ardan flushed. “I heard a thunk against the warehouse outside. I thought a bird had struck it
in the wind from the storm. Or a loose piece of wood. But then a soft keening started. When I investigated, I found Mum.” His blue eyes shone with a deep emotion at seeing his mother for the first time in over seventeen years.
“And I ran to find you,” Kevin said.
“What can we do for her, Da?” Declan asked, his gaze roving over his mother who he had not seen since he was a boy of seven.
“Love her until she understands we’re never letting her go,” Seamus whispered.
“You have to let me go!” Mary said as she struggled against him. “I can’t … I can’t leave them,” she burst into sobs.
“Whether you like to admit it or not, love, we are married. Before God and our church,” Seamus said in a raspy voice.
“No,” she cried. “You don’t understand. I can’t … I won’t …” Her voice broke with her sobs and she was unable to speak any more.
The joy leached from Seamus’s face and he looked to his sons. “Declan, Ardan, help your mum up. Kevin, prepare a bed for her. She needs rest.” He waited until Mary was out of his arms before he rose. He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her again. When Ardan hefted her into his strong arms to carry her the short distance home, Seamus fought indignation that he wasn’t caring for his wife. However, she had made it plain she did not want him looking after her. Not any longer.
A fierce determination took root inside him that he would find a way through the pain and misunderstanding that had led to their separation. He vowed that soon, he and Mary would have their reckoning for he could not imagine many more days without her. Not when he knew she lived.
Following his boys to their house, he froze at the chaos that awaited them. Screaming could be heard in the living room as they entered through the back kitchen door.
Pioneer Dream: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga Page 8