“I had every right to treat them as I wanted,” Jacques hissed. “And only a weakling doesn’t beat what he can.” He snickered at Seamus. “They are worthless women and you will soon be as weary of caring for them as I.” He paused. “I want the boys back. It is my right.”
“By whose right?” Seamus asked. “You believe you have more right than their mother? From what I was told, Francois could barely write his name.”
“Who would take the word of that whore over me?” Jacques hissed.
“She is my wife and you will treat her with the respect she is due,” Seamus said, taking a step toward Jacques until they were nose to nose. “But it was my daughter who told me, and I know you are far more interested in her than you want me to believe.” He stared at Jacques, seeing the flicker of hunger in his gaze at the mention of Maggie. “She is forever out of your reach, Jacques.”
“That’s what you believe, but I know she will race back to me. She has a remarkable weakness.” He sneered at Seamus. “It appears to be a family trait.”
“If protecting her family is a weakness, I’ll gladly accept it.” Seamus stood to his full height, matching Jacques inch for inch and staring directly into his surprisingly alert gaze. “I know men like you, and I have no doubt you forged that letter from your brother.” He smirked. “If you even have it.”
Jacques shrugged, taking a step away and motioning for the observant barkeep to serve him another drink. “If I do, I’ll only create problems for you.”
Seamus nodded, “Aye. You’ll cause an expense, but you will not win.” He paused. “You’ll use all your hard earned savings, and for what purpose?” Seamus stared at him. “Revenge against a woman you do not want? To keep two boys you have no desire to feed and clothe? Added expenses you can ill afford as you set off into the wilds of the Territory?”
“You want to make a deal? Fine.” Jacques moved to the bar, grabbed the small glass and swallowed back the shot of firewater. He hissed as it burned its way down his throat. “I give you the letter, in exchange for you outfitting me.”
Seamus fought displaying any outward signs of triumph. As he was about to nod his agreement with Jacques’s demand, Jacques spoke again.
“And Margaret comes with me.”
Seamus stilled, his breath catching with horror at the thought. “Never,” he rasped. “Maggie will never travel with you.”
Jacques spread his hands as though his magnanimous offer had been refused and he were suffering at having to deal with such a difficult man. “Then we are at an impasse.” He nodded at Seamus with a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slipped from the Sunrise.
Seamus stood, staring into space as the man his wife and daughter feared walked out to roam the streets.
Seamus called a family meeting of his eldest sons in the warehouse. He had instructed his youngest sons, including Lucien and Henri, to guard the house and to run for them if there were any sign of trouble. He battled a slight guilt at excluding Mary, Maggie and Niamh, but he had no desire to worry them.
“What is it, Da?” Kevin asked. He appeared more despondent than usual, and Seamus stared at him in concern before focusing on the reason for calling them together. “You’ve seemed flummoxed since you saw that man today.”
“Aye,” Seamus said. “I want you to swear you will not discuss what we talk about with your brothers who are absent. And I include Henri and Lucien when I speak of your brothers. For I already consider them my sons for they are Mary’s.” He saw his eldest sons, Ardan, Kevin, Declan, Finn and Eamon, nod their agreement without a moment’s hesitation.
Seamus ran a hand through his thick black-gray hair and his eyes gleamed with animosity. “It took everything in me not to beat that man to a pulp, after seeing what he did to your mother, and the terror your sister lives with.”
Kevin shared a long look with Ardan. “Why does he remain here?”
“He claims to have a letter, from his deceased brother, granting him custody of his nephews.” He met their shocked gazes. “Of Lucien and Henri. He wants them back.”
“Never,” Ardan rasped. His brothers muttered their agreement.
Seamus smiled at their loyalty. “Maggie informed me that Francois was barely able to read or write, which makes me believe the letter is fake. However, it could be a costly endeavor to prove it.”
Declan ran a hand over his beard, his expression one of deep contemplation. “What will it take him to leave, Da?”
Seamus shrugged. “I thought we could outfit him, but then he made the demand of Maggie. He wants her to travel with him when he leaves for Virginia City.” He shook his head. “I refuse to consign her to the life of living with such a man.” His sons nodded their agreement with his assertion.
Kevin stared at his dad. “If we outfitted Jacques, would we have enough to make it through the coming winter and restock next year?” He saw Ardan nod in agreement with his astute question.
“Aye, although we would have to forego my hopes for expandin’ the house so it’s not so crowded, with all of us livin’ in it.”
Declan shrugged. “I’ll move out soon with my bride, and we always talked about findin’ a way to sleep in the attic.” His brothers nodded, although Kevin fought a grimace at Declan’s mention of marrying in the near future.
“Why ask us when you already know you have to do whatever is necessary to keep Maggie safe?” Kevin asked.
Seamus looked from one son to the next. Finally he said, “I want my sons to know I cannot and will not agree to such an endeavor without your approval. That sign doesn’t say Seamus O’Rourke General Mercantile. It says O’Rourke and Sons.” He looked at his boys. “’Tis our business, and I would not act without an agreement between all of us.”
Ardan looked at his brothers, waiting to speak until Kevin gave a sharp nod. “Da, they’re our brothers, and Maggie’s our wee sister.” He paused as he thought about his grown sister returned to them. “She’s afraid of her own shadow, and that’s not like an O’Rourke. She shouldn’t have to return to such a man.” His jaw tightened. “She should fear no one.”
Finn glowered. “And she shouldn’t worry that she will run into him ever again.”
Eamon rubbed at his head. “Are you sure we can’t just kill him an’ be done with it?” He sounded more like Seamus as his American accent disappeared for a moment and he spoke with his father’s Irish lilt.
Seamus shook his head, a look of regret and amusement glinting in his gaze. “No. I’ve no desire to attract the attention of Sheriff Wilcox.”
Kevin had sat in deep contemplation. “What bullwhacker do you trust?” he asked.
“Cormac Ahern,” Seamus said without hesitation.
The brothers nodded. Although Cormac’s brother, Connor, had married Niamh, and was a lazy man who hoped to live off his wife’s family, Cormac was a hard worker. One of the finest bullwhackers in the territory, he worked hard during the season transporting goods to Helena and Virginia City. Like all of them, he didn’t have much work during the long off season when the steamboats didn’t venture up the Missouri. As Niamh’s brother in law, he was loyal to the O’Rourkes.
“I’ll speak with him,” Declan said.
“Aye,” Seamus said in agreement. “Soon we’ll ensure Jacques Bergeron is far from our town. Mary and Maggie will be able to forget they ever knew him.” He looked at each of his sons with satisfaction. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for always makin’ me proud.”
Declan stepped out from their store after watching a bullwhacker head out of town. Ten oxen tied two abreast pulled three wagons with wheels nearly as tall as he with only one man steering it all. He shook his head in wonder, amazed as always at the talent and skill of the bullwhackers. He knew this particular shipment was going to Helena, a ten-day journey for the bullwhacker. By stagecoach, it would take only two bone-jarring days.
He glanced up the street and his expression brightened. “Miss O’Keefe!” he called out as he hastily approached her. “What a delig
ht to see you.”
She smiled and rested her fingers on his proffered arm as he began to walk her along the Fort Benton levee. There was no fancy promenade or park in town, and almost every other business was a saloon with uncouth men lingering outside. He desired a few moments with the woman he planned to marry. “I have not seen you in a few days,” she murmured.
He shrugged. “You might have heard the rumors.” He looked at her expectantly, but she simply stared at him as though waiting for him to confirm or deny the gossip. “My mum is alive.” His eyes shone with the wonder of it. “And she’s living with us now.”
She looked away, but not before he saw her frown of concern. “I had believed her dead.”
Declan patted her hand, his smile broad as he met her worried gaze. “So had we all, but she’s alive and well. She and my Da have a few misunderstandings to overcome, but we’re a family again.” When he smiled, he looked much younger than his twenty-five years.
“That is extraordinary,” she whispered. “Are you all delighted?”
He paused to stare at her, his brow furrowed and blue-eyed gaze boring into her. “Why would we not be delighted, Miss O’Keefe? My mum—our mum—is back. ’Tis wondrous. ’Tis a miracle.” He smiled encouragingly. “You’ll like her and she’ll approve of you. Mum is—was—a generous woman. I’m sure she still is.”
Aileen made a subtle motion as though encouraging him to continue walking beside her. They walked in silence for a few moments.
“Why would you doubt my joy at my mum’s return?” Declan asked as he paused, looking down at her. His blue eyes shone with a keen desire to understand her.
They had walked a fair distance down the levee and riverbank and stood on a path most often trod by deer. Tall grass stood all around them with the river babbling beside them. Although not far from town, this secluded spot gave them the sense they were in a private sanctuary just for them, although it was not the place she met Kevin.
Declan stopped so that he stood in front of her.
She met his gaze and fought a yearning to instead be looking into hazel eyes that held a curiosity mixed with affection and desire. She swallowed and took a deep breath. “My father left when I was a child. To chase the dream of the gold camps.” She paused, forcing a smile. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to see him again, after all these years.”
“Ah, lass, I’m sorry,” Declan murmured, his strong, callused hand caressing her arm. “I did not know.”
She shrugged. “It’s why I’ve lived with my aunt.” She took another deep breath. “I’d have trouble trusting him.” She watched him, as though willing him to understand what she said. “And I worry there is a reason you should not have such faith in your mother, returned after so many years.”
He nodded, his smile mildly patronizing as he patted her shoulder. “I know Mum didn’t want to leave us. That’s not who she was.” His smile faded as she stiffened in front of him and he belatedly realized he’d just insulted her. “Our situations are different.”
“Of course,” she murmured. Aileen turned to stare out at the river, her gaze distant. “I fear now is not the time for you to consider matrimony,” she murmured.
“On the contrary,” Declan said with a broad smile as he cupped her jaw and turned her to face him. “It has only made me more determined to marry. I had always had a fear of being abandoned like Da. Now I know that wasn’t the case. Everything’s changed.”
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
“I have no doubt about my desire to marry you.”
“To marry me or to marry?” she asked with uncertainty in her gaze.
He stilled, his broad chest expanding as he took a deep breath. “To marry, aye, but also to marry you. You’ll be a beautiful bride.”
“The wedding lasts a day,” she said, fighting a tremor in her voice as a flush rose on her cheeks. “I’ll only be a bride for a short time. Then I’ll be a wife.”
He grinned. “Aye, my wife.” He closed his eyes as he leaned forward, missing the panic in her gaze as he brushed his lips chastely against hers. “Say you have no doubts either,” he whispered.
“I … I want to marry,” she rasped, although the man she envisioned standing beside her as they faced the preacher was not the man in front of her. She fought her anxiety that she stood with the wrong brother.
“You’ve made me a happy man, Aileen,” he said with a shy smile. “I’ll talk with Da and make arrangements.” He offered his arm again, leading her back to town and to the small room she shared with her aunt at the hotel.
That evening, Aileen stood near the hotel window. She had already suffered through one of her aunt’s admonishments not to stand in the window and be one of “those women” who called attention to herself. She hovered to the side, with the heavy curtain obscuring her form from those wandering the rear of the building. Men caroused and called to each other. Bottles broke, horses neighed, and the threat of violence was ever in the air.
She looked to the sky, focusing on the stars and the sliver of moon. She remembered her father telling her as a girl of four that no matter how far apart they were, they’d always share the same moon. She had thought him a poet but had later learned he’d stolen the sentiment from an ancient philosopher. Aileen was certain he’d say he’d borrowed it, as that had been one of his favorite words.
She let out a stuttering breath as she fought memories of her father and the disappointment of her childhood. For a few short weeks, she had believed she had the opportunity to forge her own destiny. However, now that she was in Fort Benton, and she had seen how close the O’Rourke family was, she feared Kevin would never challenge his brother for her.
She rested her head against the curtain, hoping the fabric would stifle her sob. Her aunt was reading the Bible, although that meant she was taking a nap. Soft snores filled the room, and her aunt wouldn’t wake for another quarter hour as long as she remained quiet. Another quarter hour without her aunt chattering on about Aileen doing her duty and preserving her reputation for an unblemished future. Whatever that meant, Aileen thought to herself.
Aileen would welcome any and all blemishes, if she could have one night of passion with Kevin. For she knew Declan would never excite her as his brother did. But how was she to forego the opportunity for marriage and a respectable life, rather than continue as a pauper living by the grace of a graceless aunt? If only Kevin would speak up. If only he would challenge his brother for her.
She grimaced as she thought of the promise she had extracted that last night on the steamboat and wished she had not spoken so rashly. If she hadn’t, would Kevin have proclaimed his feelings? Were his feelings for her strong enough to overcome his sense of loyalty to his family? Or was she a muddle headed girl as her aunt said, dreaming for what would never be hers instead of accepting her fate?
She saw her reflection in the window and shook her head at her simple clothes, boring hairstyle and nondescript features. She battled tears and long held fears as she thought, What man would fight for me?
Chapter 9
Seamus anticipated the arrival of his youngest daughter in his office at the warehouse. He wished he could meet her in another location, such as the kitchen in his house or the living room there, but there would be no guarantee of privacy anywhere but here. He sat behind his desk, playing with a piece of paper as he looked at the door and listened eagerly for her arrival. The last few days, she had become resentful and angry, and he wanted time alone with her to attempt to soothe her hurts and fears.
When she arrived, she sat in the chair across from him with wariness in her gaze. Her serviceable cotton dress had been laundered so many times it was threadbare and now gray. He suspected it had once been blue. She gripped her fingers together and sat in stony silence as she waited for him to speak.
“Maggie,” he said in a low voice. He frowned as she flinched at the use of her name. “Why do you not like your name?”
“My name is Margaret,” she sai
d in a low voice.
He shook his head as he stared at the vibrant young woman in front of him attempting to fade into obscurity and appearing too much like a timid mouse. “No, you’re Maggie. You were Maggie when I saw you hours after you were born. I knew then, as I know now, that you’d be a beautiful, spirited lass who would keep up with her brothers’ shenanigans.” He smiled at her. “I’ll always mourn the years I lost with you.”
“Stop it,” she said in a low voice that broke. “Don’t make the years that we lived away from you even harder to bear remembering by reminding me of what I could have had.” She looked at her father with accusation in her gaze. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have left us—” She broke off and lowered her gaze.
Seamus nodded, nonplussed at her anger. “Aye, I should have ensured the nun wasn’t misinformed. There’s so much I wish I’d done. But it’s too late now. Now,” he said as he stared at her with adoration, “all I can do is ensure you never doubt how much you are loved and cared for.”
“Stop it!” she cried again as she rose and raced for the door. Her fingers slipped on the metal handle and she pounded against the wood as he gripped her shoulder.
“Shh, Maggie,” he crooned as he pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her. “All will be well. Let me comfort you as I was never allowed to all those years.”
The fight left her and she fell into his embrace, sobbing. “Mother,” she whimpered.
“You know she’s safe. She’s well,” he soothed. “And your brothers are adapting to their new family too.”
She pushed away, swiping at her cheeks. “But you’ll never care for them. Not like you do your own boys. You’ll punish them in little insidious ways because they’ll never measure up to your own sons.” She watched him with an alert gaze, as though to catch him in a lie.
Seamus studied her, pain and regret in his expression. “No, Maggie darlin’.” He swiped at a tear on her cheek. “Never. I’ll love them because they are your mum’s. My Mary’s. And I’ll love them because they are boys who need a father.” He stared at her. “I am not Francois. I am not Jacques.”
Pioneer Dream: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga Page 12