Maggie frowned, her fingers gripping the blankets. “How many of you are there?”
“Including me, there are nine O’Rourkes. Niamh’s my only sister.” A smile bloomed. “Well, except for you, and you make ten.” He frowned and then shrugged. “And your brothers, Mum’s sons, make twelve.”
“Nine new siblings,” she whispered. “I never imagined so many.” She sat in a daze. “I can’t see why you’d miss me if I were to leave.”
Kevin sat forward, his expression fierce. “That’s where you are wrong, Maggie. Da mourned you every day since he thought you died. He’d mourn you again. Don’t leave. Don’t bring despair back into our lives. Not when we have a chance for joy again.”
Her cobalt blue eyes widened at the pleading in his voice. “You truly want me to stay? Even though I’ll disrupt your family?”
He shook his head, a soft smile on his face. He reached forward, gripping one of hers for a moment before releasing it. “You don’t understand, lass. You already are our family. You are precious to us because you returned to us. You are no’ dead.” He shook his head as though to clear it of tears. “I can’t begin to tell you what a miracle that is.” After a long moment, he whispered, “An’ to have Mum back too …”
She stared at her brother. “How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
Her gaze rove over his earnest gaze, wavy auburn hair, and hazel eyes. He had strong shoulders, and a firm grip, but she sensed a gentleness about him absent in the two men who had raised her. “You last saw mother when you were thirteen?”
“Twelve,” he said, his eyes bright with the memory of loss. “’Twas a tragic time. We lost our home in Ireland, and all that was familiar. And then we lost Mum. And you.”
Maggie raised a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. “Why would your father abandon Mother?”
“He’s your da too,” Kevin snapped. “An’ Da would never have abandoned you. He loved Mum and was dedicated to her. To all of us. Something we don’t understand happened. We must have faith in our parents.”
“You call her Mum,” she murmured. “And you’re not upset at calling me Maggie.”
He frowned at her. “Da considers you Maggie. Margaret’s a bit formal for a wee lass like yourself.” His frown intensified as she cast him a furtive glance and flinched at the use of the nickname Maggie. “If you dislike the name, we’ll try not to call you it. But I fear, that’s how we’ve always thought of you. How we’ve prayed for you every night.”
Her eyes widened and two tears leaked out to course down her cheeks. “You pray for me?”
He nodded. “Yes, Da always had us pray for Mum and our beautiful sister, Maggie, lost too soon. Imagine Ardan’s surprise to carry a grown woman, rather than the babe he’s envisioned all these years.”
She giggled even as another tear leaked out. “I don’t understand you. If your father were truly that good, he wouldn’t have left us.” She bit her lip before saying anything more.
“Our father.” Kevin motioned for her to rise. “Come, breakfast must be about ready, and if we’re late, they won’t save us anything. They’re like a pack of wild animals in the morning.” He winked at her, holding out his hand for her. He smiled as she took it, leading her out of the room, down the stairs, and into the chaos of the kitchen.
The kitchen smelled of fresh bread, hotcakes, bacon, coffee and a mass of freshly washed people. All of their siblings were here, including Niamh and her daughter, Maura, and they were chattering a mile a minute. The kitchen window was open to let in the fresh, cool morning air and a rooster crowed.
“Margaret,” Henri yelled out, racing to his sister. “They wouldn’t let me see you last night.” He wrapped his arms around her waist as she grimaced at his embrace. She held him, kissing his head.
“I’m fine, Henri,” she murmured. She murmured something in French and he relaxed.
“What did you just say?” asked the large man she remembered from the previous night who carried her from Jacques’s house. Ardan, she remembered. “It’s rude to speak in a language not everyone can understand.”
“I told him I promised,” she said. “Thank you,” she whispered to Ardan. He seemed taken aback for a moment and then he nodded.
“Of course. You are my sister. My baby sister.” Ardan cleared his throat as he looked at her, his gaze darkening with anger.
She flinched under his perusal, ducking her head and curving her shoulders in an attempt to hide herself. “I beg your pardon for bringing chaos into your lives.”
Another man laughed. “We live in chaos.” He sipped at a cup of tea. “I’m Declan. Ignore Ardan. Because he’s the eldest he can be very protective.”
She saw Kevin rolling his eyes at Declan, before muttering that was a family trait.
Maggie stared at Declan as though attempting to remember his name, and she was soon inundated with names and faces. Finally she said, “I won’t remember every name. I’m sorry.”
Kevin eased her into a chair. “Sit. Eat. Have some tea or coffee. Soon enough you’ll know who we all are. And you’ll wonder how you ever lived your life without knowin’ the lot of us.” He winked at her. He looked toward the door as Seamus entered. “Da.”
Seamus squeezed Kevin’s shoulder and bent to kiss Maggie’s forehead. Even though she shied away from his touch, he kissed her head and then moved to Niamh to do the same. Maura squealed, holding her arms up for him and he laughed. He picked Maura up, raising her high over his head before settling her on his hip. “Ah, my little love,” he whispered as Maura, drooled all over his shoulder. He focused on Maggie as he sat in his chair at the head of the table. “Maggie, I hope you slept well.”
“Yes,” she said. “If I could have my dress back, I’ll prepare to leave so you won’t be inconvenienced any longer.”
Seamus shook his head at her. He nodded for Finn to set a full plate of food in front of his sister. “Do you like tea or prefer coffee?”
“Tea,” she said and Finn placed a cup in front of her. She stared at the food a long moment before giving into her hunger and picking up her fork. She devoured the simple, delicious food, flushing when she saw Seamus watching her with understanding.
“Do you want more?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Oh, I ate too much. I’m sorry if I …” She broke off at his grumble of disagreement.
“Stop apologizin’, Maggie,” Seamus ordered. “You have a right to eat. An’ if you’re still hungry, to eat more. I pray, every night, that none of my family will go hungry ever again.” He waited as she watched him with wide-eyed fascination. “Are you still hungry, lass?”
She nodded. “Yes, but just a little bit more,” she said as another brother—was it Eamon?—rose to pile more food on her plate. “I don’t want anyone to go hungry because I’m a glutton.”
“You’re a wee slip of a girl an’ far from a glutton,” Seamus said, with grunts of agreement from her brothers. “Whoever told you such nonsense was a fool.”
“Or a bully,” Ardan growled.
She nodded, her gaze averted. “He wasn’t a very nice man,” she whispered. After she took a few more bites, she looked at Seamus. “You’re really my father?”
He beamed at her, now holding a slumbering Maura against his shoulder. “Aye, an’ I couldn’t be prouder.” He raised a hand to run over her cheek, stilling his movement when she flinched. He looked around at his children, all watching his interaction with Maggie with blatant interest. “I hate to see how you were harmed, lass. But I promise you this. We may raise our voices. We may yell, for that is our way. And the eejits who are your brothers might get in a tussle a time or two. That’s the way of men, aye?” His voice rang with pride as he spoke of his sons. He smiled at her softly. “But I promise you, no one will ever raise a hand to you. Ever again. For if they do, they will have to answer to me.” His blue eyes, so like her own, shone with a fierce intensity at his avowal.
“Aye, an’ to me,” Ardan said, and soon a
ll her brothers, including Lucien and Henri, had made that pledge.
She looked at them all with wonder. Appearing overcome, she nodded and refrained from saying anything. She pushed her plate away and then stood, carrying it to the sink. She started to stack the other plates on the table but stilled when Seamus placed a hand on her wrist.
“No, lass, not today,” he said. “I know Niamh will be thankful for any future help. She’s said for some time that we need to get in help, but it’s hard to find women lookin’ for even more housework to do.” He saw Niamh smile her agreement. After kissing Maura on her head, he passed his eleven-month granddaughter to Niamh. He snagged two pieces of bacon, picked up his cup of tea and motioned for Maggie to follow him.
Maggie cast a worried glance at her siblings, but she traipsed after the man she was only just beginning to accept as her father. He motioned for her to go upstairs and he followed her up and into the room she had slept in. After she sat on the unkempt bed, he sat on the other bed Kevin had rumpled earlier that morning, setting his tea mug by his feet. Seamus had already devoured both pieces of bacon on the short trip to the bedroom.
“Now, lass, quit looking so serious and worried,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I wanted privacy to speak with you, and the only other place I could think of was my office, but that’s at the warehouse, and we’d have to find you clothes.” He smiled as she tugged at her robe. “What are you not telling me?”
“I don’t understand,” she sputtered. “I’ve told you plenty.”
“Plenty does not mean everything, Maggie,” he said with a wry smile. “Your mother and brothers were thrown out of the house, but you weren’t. Why not? Why does your mother look guilty whenever your name is mentioned?”
Maggie lowered her gaze, the blush on her cheeks enhancing the auburn of her hair. “Jacques promised he would not harm her further if I stayed,” she whispered. She flicked a glance in his direction, watching as he stared at her with devout intensity. “I agreed.” She closed her eyes. “Whatever was to befall me was of my own doing.”
Seamus swore and gripped his strong thighs. “Nay,” he rasped. “He gave you a Devil’s bargain, using your love and loyalty toward your family against you. He’s a cunning man, is he not?” He stared at Maggie. “What more is he holding over you?”
She shivered. “Jacques says he has a document from Francois giving him custody of the boys. He said he would destroy it if …” Her voice trailed away. She shook her head as she flushed with shame.
“If what, Maggie?” he asked. He canted forward, settling his hand on her knee and gifting her with his support and strength.
“If I agreed to spend one more night in his house,” she said in a rush.
Seamus’s hand on her knee tightened a moment and then he rose. “Feck,” he breathed, rubbing a hand through his hair. He moved to the window and then back to the door, pacing the small space in the room. “You have to have known what he meant, Maggie.”
She shrugged. “I’d lived with him for years. I didn’t think one more night would be a sacrifice.” Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “I hadn’t realized how different it would be to be alone in the house with him.”
Seamus growled. “I’ll kill him,” he rasped.
“No!” Maggie cried, standing to grip his arm. “Don’t focus on me. I’m not important. Ensure Henri and Lucien never have to live with him again. He’ll abuse them terribly, even though they are his nephews.”
His blue eyes glowed with impotent fury. “You’re wrong, my Maggie,” he said in a low voice, his hand rising slowly so as not to frighten her. Finally he cupped her cheek. “You are very important in all this. You are precious. But, aye, for now, I will focus on your brothers. But one day soon, we will talk again.” He leaned forward, kissed her cheek and then left.
Maggie sank to the mattress, her hand over her cheek. Unable to prevent a tear from leaking out, she marveled that such a large man could show such tenderness. That a man would want to show her tenderness. She fell to her side, curling into herself as she thought about the man who was her father.
Kevin left his father’s house, intent on stealing a few moments alone after the chaos of the family breakfast. Although not much rowdier than usual, the addition of Maggie and her two brothers had made the breakfast even more so.
He paused at the edge of the river, a fair distance from town. No steamboat would arrive today, although word had arrived late yesterday that a steamboat had banked at the headwaters of the nearby Marias River. Oxen carts and stagecoaches were preparing for the journey to bring the passengers and freight the rest of the way to Fort Benton.
Ignoring the distant call of men as they prepared the wagons and stages, he thought about the events of the previous evening. He smiled at the thought of Maggie, although his grin faded as he remembered the fear in her eyes when Da attempted to caress her cheek or soothe her. He clenched his jaw, battling anger at all the abuse she and Mum must have suffered during the years separated from them.
“Hello, Mr. O’Rourke,” Aileen said.
He spun at the soft sound of her voice, his gaze impassioned at the sight of her.
“We seem to share the same thinking spot.” When Kevin continued to stare at her, she whispered, “What are you thinking about?”
“Maggie.”
Paling, she took a step away from him. “I see. How foolish of me to believe in constancy.”
He leapt forward, grabbing her arms as she spun to rush away. Their legs tangled and they toppled into the waist high grass. “No, Aileen. You misunderstand,” he whispered. His hand rose to cup one cheek as he stared deeply into her confused, hurt gaze. “Maggie’s my sister. The sister who died.”
She frowned, ignoring the fact she rested on a bed of grass with him looming over her. Instead, she focused on the joy and wonder in his gaze. “Why would you brood about her if she’s dead?”
He beamed at her, his smile as bright as a sunbeam bursting forth after a fierce storm. “Nay, she’s not dead. She’s returned to us. And although she’s not the hellion I always imagined she’d be, I know she will be, soon enough.” His expression clouded. “As soon as she realizes she’s safe and no one will ever harm her again.”
Aileen shook her head in incredulousness. “How can you guarantee that?”
Kevin released her shoulder, his fingers stroking up and down her arm in an absent caress. “All the O’Rourke men vowed to keep her safe. I only pray we do a better job than we did for Niamh.”
Aileen ran her fingers through his hair fluttering in the breeze. “I’m certain you did what you could for Niamh.”
He grunted in disagreement. “We should have locked Niamh up until Connor gave up his pursuit of her on the steamboat. We didn’t know at the time he was already engaged to another woman, but had decided to forget about his promise to her because he hoped to make an alliance with our family. The man’s inconstant enough it wouldn’t have taken long for him to search for another woman.”
She smiled tenderly at him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Kevin.”
He stared into her adoring gaze for what seemed an interminable moment as a red winged blackbird called, the breeze blew through the grass and the river gurgled beside them. He lowered his head, his warm breath fanning over her, and he watched as her eyes closed, arching up as though to receive his kiss.
At the last moment, he tilted his head away from her lips and kissed her cheek. At her oof of disappointment, he buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply of her subtle scent of roses and soap. After kissing her neck a few times, he whispered, “I can’t betray Declan by kissing you more than I already have.” With one more kiss to her neck, he pushed back.
He met her mournful gaze as he rose to his feet, reaching down to help her up. He patted down, removing dirt and grass from his clothes, watching as she did the same. He smiled ruefully as he plucked a few pieces of grass from her hair. “Don’t be angry with me, Aileen.”
; She shook her head and backed up a step. “I’m not. I have no right to wish you were a less honorable man.”
“Aileen,” Kevin whispered.
“I wish you well with your sister.”
He stared after her as she twirled and raced away.
Chapter 8
Two days later, Seamus entered the Sunrise Saloon, his gaze roving over the patrons as he searched for the man Kevin had pointed out to him earlier in the day. The Sunrise was the more reputable of the saloons in town, but Seamus knew that wasn’t saying much. There were daily fights, the windows were more often filled in with plywood than glass, and anyone with sense knew better than to try to sleep upstairs after 9:00 p.m. However, the Sunrise sold the best firewater in town at the fairest price, and had earned the reputation as the place to go to drown your sorrows, lift your spirits, or gather your courage.
The proprietor, Stanley Robinson, kept a pistol and a rifle loaded underneath the front counter. The rear mirror behind the bar had the dual purpose of reflecting the light and for the barkeep to maintain a watchful eye on his patrons on the rare occasion he had his back to the bar. A simple pine wood bar with minimal adornment provided a place for men to lean against as they ordered or told tales. Many men entered, shot down a mouthful of firewater and moved on to continue their work.
Seamus nodded to Stanley and moved in the direction of his quarry. Ardan and Kevin were to sidle in after a few minutes, but he didn’t want the man to believe he was cornering him. Not until he truly was hemmed in. “Bergeron,” Seamus said. He stood as tall as the Frenchman although he wasn’t as broad chested.
The former backwoodsman stared at him with bleary eyes, although they focused enough for Seamus to know Jacques would understand all that was said today. He stood tall as Jacques took a menacing step in his direction as though to push him backward.
“You know I’m not intimidated by a man who finds pleasure in pummeling vulnerable women,” Seamus said in a low, menacing voice.
Pioneer Dream: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga Page 11