Chapter 12
Mary rested in Seamus’s arms, her chest against his as she used his shoulder as a pillow. They fit together as they always had, and their lovemaking had been tender, sweet and passion filled. Against her will, a tear leaked out, and then another, and before she understood how or why, she began to sob in his arms. Great heaving sobs she had no control over. She wrapped her arms around him as though he were her anchor as she gasped for breath.
“’Tis all right, love,” he murmured as he ran his hands through her hair. “Cry all you need.” He continued to murmur his love and support of her, never urging her to stop her sudden emotional outburst.
After a long while, she calmed and lay quivering in his arms. “Forgive me,” she stammered out.
He moved in the bed so she rested with her head on a pillow and he leaned over her, his fingers tracing over her cheeks. He held a finger to her lips before he arched out of the bed, tugging his soiled clothes on the floor nearer until he found a handkerchief. He settled again next to her, swiping at her cheeks and then giving it to her so she could blow her nose. When she had fully calmed and her breaths were steadier with only an occasional stutter, he sighed with contentment and pulled her close again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes closed.
“Why?” he asked.
She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Rather than rapprochement or anger, she saw acceptance and a touch of fear. Raising a hand to caress his face, she whispered, “I’d forgotten what it felt like to be cherished.” She paused as a few more tears leaked out. “And I … I realized I had given up hope that I’d ever feel that way again. I had prayed for passion. For desire.” She met his gaze. “But never did I dare to dream of feeling revered again.”
Rather than soothing him, her words provoked a tension and his hold on her tightened. “What did he do to you?” he rasped. A finger ran over a scar on her hip, as though his repeated caress could ease any pain she’d ever suffered. “I need to know, Mary.”
She took a deep stuttering breath. “I was destitute and alone with a baby in Montreal. Winter arrived not long after Maggie was born. I could get food once a day at the soup kitchen, but it wasn’t enough to feed me and keep my milk coming in for our girl.” She shivered. “And it was so cold. I didn’t have the clothes for it.” She stared into space as though seeing a distant scene. “I’d heard stories, of women in Ireland begging by the side of the road as carts of food rolled past, starving to death. I feared I would suffer a similar fate in Montreal.”
She closed her eyes. “And then, one day when I walked back from my meal, I slipped and tumbled into Francois. He seemed amused at me, and would not let me return to my shack. He brought me to his house, a fine warm house with plenty of food. Soon he’d procured clothes for me and cloth for nappies for Maggie. Margaret.” She said. “For she was Margaret then.”
“Why?” Seamus asked.
“Francois hated the name Maggie. Would hit me and then her whenever saying it. Said it was a desecration of a beautiful name.” She looked at Seamus with eyes devoid of any animation or joy. “He always found a reason for punishments.”
“Dear God,” Seamus whispered. “Why did you stay with him?”
She glared at him, thumping him on his chest. “Where was I to go? How was I to survive? I had Maggie to care for. And no one would take in a woman with a baby as their maid. No one would accept two to feed when so many were clamoring for work.” She closed her eyes in resignation. “I was trapped, but I didn’t realize how bad it was, not until a few years later.”
Seamus cupped her face, his gaze boring into hers. “What happened?”
“I’d born him a son. He knew it tied me to him as nothing else would have. That I would never abandon my boy.” She shivered. “And then the abuse truly began. ’Tis insidious when it does, you know?” She looked at her husband and shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t for that’s not how you are.” She sighed. “I cooked the beans too long, slap aside the head. I didn’t say hello fast enough when he returned home, a slap. I wasn’t passionate enough in bed,” she shivered and closed her eyes.
Seamus quivered with pent up tension. “You’re certain he’s dead?”
Mary nodded. “Aye. I saw them arrive with his dead body over the horse. Another man shot and killed him for Francois’s interest in his wife.” She shrugged. “I was no longer desirable to him.” She looked at Seamus with fiery indignation. “May God forgive me, but I did not cry tears of mourning over his grave. I exulted that I was finally free of him.”
Seamus’s hold on her tightened for a moment at the fierce emotion in her voice. “But you weren’t free, were you? You still had to contend with the brother. With Jacques.”
She closed her eyes as though in defeat. “I thought I’d go to a big city. We were in America now, so I thought I’d travel to Boston or New York. There are plenty of Irish there, and I knew where Francois hid his money.” She shook her head as though at her own folly. “But so did Jacques. And Jacques beat me to it.”
“Why did you remain with him?” Seamus asked.
“He said Francois had written a will stating he had left the boys to his care. And that if I ever wanted to see them, I had to live with him.” After a long silence, she met Seamus’s gaze. “I never had to join him in his bed, but he was as mean as his brother. Meaner at times.”
Seamus stroked a hand down her arm. “Does he have such a will? Did you ever see it?”
Mary shook her head. “I think that was another fabrication of his, but he promised he would present it to a judge should I ever act out.”
Seamus made a scoffing noise. “Don’t worry, love. Maggie told me all about it when she first came to live with us.” He ran a finger over her furrowed brow and smiled at her in an attempt to ease her fears. “’Tis my belief he planned to pen the thing himself and act as though it were written by Francois. How would anyone know the difference?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, love. Soon Dunmore will return and inform us he’s in Virginia City. And the woman traveling with him knows she will receive a healthy bonus if she finds that letter and gives it to Dunmore. Hopefully we’ll have it in the family safe soon.” He kissed her forehead. “You and Maggie are not alone now.”
“But what if something happens to you?” she whispered as she ran her fingers over his shoulders and chest. “I couldn’t bear it.”
“Ah, lass, you know how to lift a man’s spirits.” He kissed her softly. “You don’t have just me, love, you have all your sons too. They’ll defy God and the Devil himself to keep you safe. Never doubt it.”
She nodded. “I doubt, but I can’t imagine losing you again. Not now.” When Seamus remained silent, she stared at him with a mixture of hope and fear. “Was … Did …” She swallowed her question as nothing coherent emerged.
“What, lass?” he asked with an impish smile, humor and adoration lighting his expression and making him look like the young man she had married so many years ago. “Did I enjoy myself?” He shook his head.
“Oh,” she whispered, as she flushed with mortification and attempted to tug the sheet up to cover herself.
However, he rested on it and it wouldn’t budge.
“I should find something to wear.”
“No, love,” he murmured, joy and love in his voice as he lowered his head to kiss her brow and then the side of her face. “How could I use such a bland word to describe the overwhelming pleasure I found in your arms? The absolute joy of watching you come alive again as you realize you are adored and loved and treasured. Oh, ’tis so much more than enjoy.” He beamed at her as his thumb swiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek. “’Tis every good emotion bubblin’ inside me until I think I’ll burst with how you make me feel.”
“Like before?” she whispered, hopeful.
“So much more than before,” he said as he rested his forehead against hers. “For now I know what it is to live without you. And to have you in my arms again. By some grace,
I was allowed to find heaven again.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Seamus,” she whispered. “How I love you.”
Kevin paced the small hotel office space, praying that the day’s outcome would be different than the day he had learned Aileen was meant for Declan. He firmed his jaw, letting out a deep breath as he waited for Aileen to appear, giving a silent plea her aunt would not be present. Although he wished Ardan were here to support him, he knew it was important that only Declan and he be present this morning. Declan had made it clear that he was envious of Kevin’s closeness to Ardan.
The door creaked open, and Aileen followed with her aunt on her heels. He swore softly under his breath, earning a grunt of agreement from Declan. Ignoring the blustering aunt, Kevin focused on Aileen. Her chestnut hair shone in the sunlight glinting through the rear window and her brown eyes held a hint of trepidation although she moved with a quiet assurance.
“I’m sorry if you were kept waiting,” she said in a demure voice, her gaze flicking from one brother to the other. “We were at breakfast.”
Declan smiled, reaching for her hand. “’Tis of no concern.”
Kevin stepped forward, out of the shadow and grimaced as she gasped at his appearance. His lip was swollen and he feared it would split again, spewing blood down his chin. “Miss O’Keefe,” he murmured. He met her worried gaze with one he hoped reassured her.
“Why would two men believe they should meet with my niece?” Mrs. Davies demanded.
Kevin ignored her aunt and spoke in a low voice that earned a shiver. “We have an important question to ask you, miss,” he murmured. His hazel eyes were focused solely on her and he noted the faint blush that rose on her cheeks. “My brother and I … are at an impasse and we need you to help us.”
“An impasse?” she whispered. She looked at Declan, her brow furrowed. “What has happened?”
Declan gave her the charming O’Rourke smile that he utilized to obtain what he desired but failed to convey any true emotion. “We want to know which one of us you choose.”
“What?” Aileen gasped at the same time her aunt sputtered behind her. She spun and glared at her aunt to quiet. “Please, will you grant us a few moments worth of privacy? There is no need to fear for my reputation. These are respectable men.”
“As honorable as a potato picker can be,” her aunt snapped. She stiffened and turned on her heel. “I will wait at the other side of the door. At any sound of distress, I will be inside.” She stared at her niece with a severe look. “You know what to do, niece,” she said in a low, intent voice.
After she shut the door behind her, Aileen focused on the two brothers. “Have you been fighting?”
Declan rolled his eyes as though the question were obvious. Kevin nodded. “Aye. An’ you were the reason.” He waited for her to give an indication of her affection for him, but she frowned as she stared at him.
“You brawled?” she asked.
“It’s what brothers do,” Kevin said with a shrug.
“So what you fought about wasn’t that important?” she asked, her brown eyes filled with confusion and hurt. “I see.” She held up her hand before Kevin could protest and took a small step away from him, focusing on Declan’s intense stare. No longer was he indifferent as he beheld her.
“Why did you fight?” she asked Declan.
“Because I learned my brother, who I had thought honorable, had played me false. That there was a chance I’d lose you. And I could not bear it.”
She took a stuttering breath at his declaration, nodding at the sincerity in his gaze. She glanced at Kevin, paling at the impotent fury in his gaze. “And you fought because that’s what brothers do. Not because of your interest in me.”
“No, dammit, Aileen--” Kevin growled as she glared him into silence. He gripped his hands at his side, leaning toward her so far that it appeared he would fall forward. However, he never touched her.
After a long moment of silence, only broken by Kevin’s harsh breaths, she said in an emotionless voice, “You wanted to see me for some reason. What was it?” Her brown eyes shone with a mild curiosity.
Declan grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You know how close the O’Rourkes are. Kev and I fought, aye, over you. And I determined you should choose who you want to marry.”
“You did?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper as she looked at Declan. After a moment, she faced Kevin. “What did you want?” she asked Kevin.
When Kevin remained resolutely silent, Declan said, “Kevin offered to move away so that you and I could marry without his presence in town.”
Kevin watched as she paled and blinked rapidly as though fighting tears. “Aileen,” he whispered.
“No,” she interrupted. “I understand. I was a fool, as my aunt always informed me. It’s why she was correct in informing me I should follow her guidance. For I have as little sense as my mother ever did.” She shook her head. “I will marry you, Declan. For you are my choice.”
Kevin watched as she gasped with surprise as Declan pulled her close and then kissed her. With a muttered curse Kevin paced to the door, flinging it open. After pushing past her aunt, who had been shamelessly attempting to listen in on the other side of the hardwood, he stomped out of the hotel, clinging to anger so as not to feel the misery wanting to overcome him.
“Mary,” Seamus whispered. “There’s somethin’ I must do that I fear will upset you.” He turned onto his side, his arm wrapped around her waist as he stared deeply into her hazel eyes.
“What?” she asked as she stroked a hand over his beard.
He took a deep breath and then said in a low, purposeful voice, “I need to visit Madam Nora.” He held her as she stiffened in his arms. “I need to thank her for her friendship and explain to her why I can’t visit her anymore.”
She relaxed under his soft touch, his fingers feathering over her belly. “Why tell me rather than visiting her without my permission?”
“’Tis a small town, love. I wouldn’t want you to hear any gossip that would harm you. I want you to trust me, and for there to be trust, I must be honest with you.” He kissed her fingers that continued to stroke through his beard.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t like you going there, but I understand your need to go, one more time.”
He kissed her, losing himself in her embrace for a long moment. “Thank you, a ghrá. For believing in me. In us.”
Her gaze roved over his beloved face and she whispered, “You still have your beard.”
His teeth flashed white as he smiled. “Aye.” He kissed the palm of her hand this time. “You asked me not to shave it off. ’Twas one of the last things you asked of me before I lost you.” His eyes shone as he looked at her. “I couldn’t sever one of my last ties to you.”
“Oh, Seamus,” she whispered as she arched up to wrap her arms around him.
“Shh, love, don’t cry,” he said as he felt her tears on his chest. “We’re together again, and nothing will ever separate us.”
Seamus slipped into the front door of the Bordello, nodding to Ezra. He ignored the surprise in the hulking man’s eyes and made his way to the rear of the largely empty building. Madam Nora’s office door was closed, and he knocked on it, casting a glance over his shoulder as he heard a woman giggle. One of the Sirens flirted with an early arrival and paid Seamus no heed.
When the door opened, he smiled. “What has a frown marrin’ your beautiful face?” he asked.
“Seamus,” she said with a shake of her head in surprise. “I hadn’t expected to see you.” She opened the door wider for him to enter. “If I’m honest, I never thought you’d return.” After he had sat in his customary chair, she poured him a whiskey and sat near him. “Are you already tiring of your wife?”
He burst out laughing. “God, no.” His blue eyes sparkled with his joy. “Havin’ her back, holdin’ her in my arms.” He raised wonder-filled eyes to meet Nora’s. “’Tis more than I could
ever explain. I thought her lost to me forever.”
Nora settled back in her chair, her astute gaze taking in his relaxed expression and the contentment he exuded. “She forgave you,” she breathed in amazement. “After you abandoned her and your babe.” She ignored the flash of irritation in his gaze. “That is remarkable, Seamus.”
“What would you know about how things are between us?” he asked.
She smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “You believe you live a quiet life and few take an interest in you. However, you’ve failed to realize that you are one of the most interesting people in this town, as are your family members. When a wife and daughter come back from the dead, townsfolk take note and chatter about it. There’s been little else discussed here in between bouts with my Sirens.”
“Fools,” he muttered. He flushed as he looked at his friend. “I never meant you.” When he saw her nod of understanding, he sighed. “I believed Mary and our babe dead. Why would a nun lie to me?” He rubbed at his temple. “And all the while I mourned, she waited for me. Fool that I was, I left Montreal within a few days of what I thought was her death. Abandoning her.”
“She is well?” Nora asked with a concerned frown. “Jacques Bergeron was one of the men barred from the Bordello. He had a penchant for cruelty.”
Seamus shivered and then nodded. “She’s recoverin’, aye. As is my Maggie.” He speared her with a fierce look, but trusted she would not spread tales. “He wanted my daughter, but never abused her fully.”
Nora waited for him to say more and then she murmured, “But he abused her enough.” When Seamus looked at her with a bleak, remorseful gaze, she leaned forward and gripped his hand. “You’ve done all you can. You sent him to Virginia City. I’m only hopeful my Siren returns from there, but if she doesn’t, I’ll be fine.” She fought a smile and then grinned at him. “If we’re truly fortunate, Dunmore will have a reason to shoot the man en route.”
Pioneer Dream: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga Page 17