by Kit Morgan
“I’ll take the cookies,” another man said. “I haven’t the time to wait for pie.”
The first two men worked at the livery stable and feed store. The other man was a stranger to him. “Can I help you, sir?” Lorcan asked.
The man’s eyes glanced at his surroundings. “These two gents tell me your mother makes a fine pie.”
“Yes, on that I’ll have to agree,” Lorcan said. “She’ll bring them down shortly, if you’d like to wait. Folks take them home, or to work with them. I’m sorry we haven’t a place for you to eat here, but I can wrap up a slice for you.”
“I understand, I’ve no problem taking one with me.”
Lorcan nodded and went to help the other two, as he stole glimpses of Miss Dermont in the back. He wasn’t the only one. The stranger also caught a glimpse and turned to look at her. Lorcan’s gut went cold.
“My, what do we have here?” he heard the stranger say. The man began to stroll in Miss Dermont’s direction.
Lorcan felt a ripple of … something, crawl up his spine, and hurried to get the two men taken care while he kept an eye on the back of the store.
“We’ll take it,” Mr. Van Cleet spoke out of the blue.
Lorcan jumped at his voice and almost dropped a cookie. “Set the book on the counter, I’ll be right there.” He finished with the two men, collected their money and glanced to the back of the store as they turned to leave. They’d shared no parting words with the stranger, and Lorcan began to wonder who he was. He appeared to be quite interested in Miss Dermont, and began to engage her in polite conversation.
“There a problem, son?” Mr. Van Cleet asked.
Lorcan pulled his attention back to the task at hand. “No, sir. Is this the only book you want?”
“Yes, this should do fine. Polly and I plan on visiting Scotland one day. Want to read up on it first.”
Lorcan looked the Van Cleets over. They were well into their seventies now. He stared at the book a moment, glanced in Miss Dermont’s direction when he heard her laugh, then forced his attention back to Mr. Van Cleet. It was harder than he thought. He stood there like a dote, and said nothing.
“Oh I know what you’re thinking,” Mr. Van Cleet said, thinking his look was for them. “What are two folks our age doing planning a trip like that? Well, you’re never too old, is the way we look at it.” Lorcan continued to stare, his eyes darting to the back of the shop of their own accord. Mr. Van Cleet chuckled. “He got into town last night. Got himself a room at Upton’s. Nice enough fella. Seems like he’s pretty interested in Miss Dermont …”
“Lorcan shook himself. “He’s staying at the boarding house with you?”
“Yesiree,” Mr. Van Cleet said as he turned his gaze toward the rear of the shop. “Name’s Walker, says he’s from Colorado. Come out west to farm and ranch. Told us last night he’s looking for two things, one of which is land.”
Lorcan continued to watch as the man called Walker carried on his conversation with Miss Dermont. “What’s the other thing?”
“A wife,” Mr. Van Cleet said matter of fact.
Lorcan met his gaze and felt his body go stiff, his hands already clenched into fists. It was a gut reaction, one he had no control over unless he really thought about it. But why would he want to punch the man’s face all of a sudden? He had no claim on Miss Dermont, he was the one trying to put her on a stage a few days ago to be rid of her! Thanks to his mother, that wasn’t about to happen. Maybe he should be praying Mr. Walker took more than a liking to the girl, court, and then marry her. She’d be off his hands, out of his hair, and life could get back to normal. That, and he wouldn’t have to work with her and feel guilty about marching her straight to the boarding house almost the moment she got off the stage ...
But right now, it wasn’t guilt Lorcan was feeling. Instead, he felt like punching the poor fellow’s lights out. Before he knew it, he had moved out from behind the counter, and was marching to the back of the shop. “Miss Dermont?”
She’d been laughing at something Mr. Walker said, and looked up at Lorcan with a brilliant smile. It took his breath away. “Mr. Brody?”
He stared at her a moment, “There’s work to be done,” was all he said. He nodded to Mr. Walker, then turned on his heel and strode back to the counter.
“Abrupt, isn’t he?” he heard the man say at his retreat. Lorcan glanced over his shoulder and both were staring after him.
He went behind the counter, and proceeded to collect payment from Mr. Van Cleet just as his mother came down the stairs, a tray in her hands. “Good morning, sir. Have you found a book you like?”
“No ma’am, I’m not here looking for a book. I came because I heard you were the best pie maker in Oregon City.”
Mrs. Brody blushed a deep red. “Oh, dear me. I can’t say that I’m the best, but I do try.”
Lorcan had Mr. Van Cleet’s purchase wrapped in brown paper at this point, and was tying it up with string as he watched Mr. Walker turn his attention back to Miss Dermont. “I’ll see you at supper tonight, then?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
The string broke. “Bugger,” Lorcan mumbled.
“Having trouble there, Lorcan?” Mr. Van Cleet chuckled.
Lorcan stared at him, his jaw tight. “Bad string.”
Mr. Van Cleet leaned toward his wife. “Bad string, he says …”
She smiled in response and glanced between Lorcan and Miss Dermont. Meanwhile, Mr. Walker headed their way, trailing behind Mrs. Brody. “I’ll take two slices of the apple, if I may,” he said as she set the tray on the counter.
“Lorcan, see to the man, will you?” She then turned to their patron. “Are you new in town? I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“Why yes, ma’am, I am. I’m Herbert Walker, at your service.” He took her hand, bent at the waist, and brushed it with a kiss.
Mrs. Brody giggled. “Oh, my, what nice manners.”
Lorcan stiffened. Had he kissed Miss Dermont’s hand like that? He looked at her, but she was busy straightening a stack of books. When he looked back to his mother, Mr. Walker was giving her a huge grin. He didn’t realize he’d picked up the serving knife until he noticed it in his hand. It was then the door opened, and Mrs. Brown from the boarding house came in.
She went straight to the counter, her face flushed. “Mrs. Brody, thank goodness you’re here.”
“Heavens, Mrs. Brown, what’s the matter? You look like you ran all the way.”
“Of that you are right. It’s Mrs. Fitzsimmons. She’s got herself in a terrible fix this time.”
Mrs. Brody sighed and shook her head. “What has she done now?”
Mrs. Brown looked between Mrs. Brody and Lorcan. “She’s up the oak tree again.”
“What?” Lorcan barked.
At this point Miss Dermont came forward, her face a mask of concern. “Is she all right? Does someone need to fetch a doctor?”
Lorcan burst out laughing. “Hardly, Miss Dermont.”
“Well, you’re taking this good naturedly,” Mr. Walker said in a sarcastic tone. He quickly looked at Miss Dermont to see her reaction, then turned back to Lorcan. “The poor woman must be delirious to try to climb a tree, especially if it’s the one behind the boarding house. Why, it’s gigantic! How can you act so unconcerned when a woman’s life is in danger?” He looked directly at Miss Dermont on the word danger, and Lorcan saw his veiled satisfaction as she gasped.
Lorcan tried not to groan as he stepped out from behind the counter. “I’ll see to her, maither.” He headed for the door, and could sense Mr. Walker’s indecision on what to do or say next, in order to impress Miss Dermont.
“I’d like to offer my services to the lady. Perhaps I could be of some help in rescuing her?”
Lorcan turned, noted the feigned concern on Mr. Walker’s face, and the wide-eyed innocence of Miss Dermont’s. He sucked in a quick breath. She was a beautiful woman. What man wouldn’t want to try and impress her? Speaking of which,
why wasn’t he trying?
Before he could answer his own question, Mr. Walker made a show of striding over to Lorcan and standing at his side. “I’m going with you!”
Lorcan raised a single eyebrow at him. “You sure you’re up to the task? The deed could be wrought with danger,” he told him, then winked at his mother.
Mrs. Brody had a fist to her mouth as she went around the counter and took up the serving knife. Even Mrs. Brown looked like she was about to explode with laughter. Miss Dermont, intent on Lorcan and Mr. Walker, didn’t notice. Lorcan mustered up the best look of concern he could. “I just hope we’re not to late. Maither, where’s the grappling hook?”
“Grappling hook!” Mr. Walker gasped. “Great Scott, man! What are you planning to do?”
“Well, now ye see, Mr. Walker,” Lorcan began, his brogue suddenly thick. “Mrs. Fitzsimmons is prone to bouts of delusion. Once I had to rescue her off a barn roof!”
Miss Dermont’s eyes grew wider.
Lorcan forced back a smile and continued on. “Another time, she was trapped by a pack of, well, let me just say, they were no gentlemen. Dogs they were, nothing but dogs…”
Mr. Walker looked at Miss Dermont, aghast. “Well don’t just stand there man, let’s be off!”
Mr. Van Cleet had his face in one hand by this time, and shook his head.
Lorcan shook his own, not sure if the dramatic Mr. Walker had caught on yet. If Mrs. Fitzsimmons was in any real danger, he’d have shot out of the store to her rescue, not stand here being gabby about it. He took one last quick look at Miss Dermont, who stood with her mouth half open, brow furrowed in confusion. He caught her eye, and a tiny gasp escaped her as their eyes locked. And Lorcan, for the first time since her arrival, felt his heart warm.
He spun on his boot heel and hurried from the shop.
Mr. Walker looked between Miss Dermont and Lorcan’s retreating form, then gave a dramatic wave of his hand. “Right then, we’re off!” With that, he was out the door after him.
As soon as the shop door closed, Mrs. Brody let loose a snort of laughter. Mrs. Brown was quick to join her.
“What’s so funny?” asked Adaline.
Mr. Van Cleet gave her a broad smile. “Mrs. Brody, Mrs. Brown. Don’t you think it would be wise to send Miss Dermont to help the lads? After all, Mrs. Fitzsimmons is bound to be frightened after her ordeal, and a woman’s touch might be needed.”
“Oh, Mr. Van Cleet, you are such a …” Mrs. Brody chuckled, then sobered. “You’re quite right.” She turned to Adaline. Best fetch your shawl dearie, and go help. As soon as you have her, bring her back here. She’ll be wanting her breakfast I’m sure.”
“Breakfast?” Adaline asked. What was going on? Unless … Rather than think on it further, she did as suggested and went to a coat rack behind the counter and reached for her shawl. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she took one last look at the amused faces staring back at her, and left the shop. From the forced looks of sincerity on their faces, Mrs. Fitzsimmons had to be quite the lady, or perhaps something more.
And she was.
By the time Adaline reached the boarding house and went through the back gate, Lorcan was already half way up the enormous oak tree that graced the yard. Mrs. Fitzsimmons, as Adaline began to guess on the walk over, was near the top branches and wailing as any cat would in her predicament. But it wasn’t just Mrs. Fitzsimmons who was in a fix, but Lorcan as well. Adaline watched him slip, and cling to a branch for dear life. If he fell, he could be injured or worse.
She sucked in a worried breath and ran to the base of the tree, ignoring Mr. Walker. “Mr. Brody! What are you doing?”
“I told him not to go up there,” Mr. Walker put in.
She gave him a single glance, then returned her attention to above. “Can’t she come down on her own?”
“Mrs. Fitzsimmons likes being rescued,” he said as he got himself situated, then continued his climb. “I’ve kept count. This makes the fifth time this month I’ve saved her from death’s door.”
Adaline took a step back to better see what was happening, and clasped her hands before her. She didn’t realize until then, she’d been holding her breath. The sight of the big man up in the branches, and knowing what could happen should he fall, was almost too much. As was the fact this hulk of a man was going to all this trouble to rescue a cat.
“C’mon now, Mrs. Fitzsimmons,” Lorcan coaxed overhead. “Don’t ye know yer breakfast is waiting? Where have ye been the last few days anyway?”
The sound of his brogue sent a chill up her spine, and she took another step back to better see his progress.
“What a fool,” Mr. Walker mumbled.
Adaline didn’t look at him, instead keeping her focus on Lorcan. “How high up is he?”
“A good thirty feet I’d say. You wouldn’t catch me up there for a silly animal.”
She looked at him. “Perhaps she’s part of the family.”
He stared at her, his brow furrowed. “Miss Dermont, you’ll find animals have a purpose, and if they don’t perform it, they’re not worth having, let alone making them part of any family.”
“I think it’s commendable what he’s doing,” she stated without looking at him again. She could see him out the corner of her eye, his face locked in indecision.
“Well, if you insist upon heroics, I’ll not see you disappointed,” he said and stepped to the base of the tree. “When you have her,” he yelled, “Toss her down.”
Adaline pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure if she should be amused or upset with him. The man was pleasant at dinner the night before, and held everyone’s interest with his tales of Colorado at breakfast that morning. But now she wasn’t sure what to make of him. His interest in her was not subtle, and she would have to decide what to do about him if he continued to make his intentions known.
Meooooow
Adaline’s attention went to the rescue attempt overhead. “Are you alright, Mr. Brody?” Though there were no new leaves on the tree, the thickness of some of the branches made it hard to see.
“Mrs. Fitzsimmons likes to make a knight work to win her!” Lorcan called down.
Adaline smiled at his remark. “Perhaps she’s been reading too many fairy tales. If she saw you fight a dragon more often, she wouldn’t make you go on such impossible quests.”
He stopped climbing, and looked down at her. “Aye, but there’s not a dragon to be found. Trees are more to her liking.”
“Excuse me, Miss Dermont,” Mr. Walker interrupted. “May I escort you back to the bookshop? I’m sure you have more important things to attend to than watch this man drag a cat out of a tree.”
She stared at him a moment and pursed her lips before she spoke. “No, thank you, Mr. Walker. I’ll stay.”
He looked at her, and shook his head. “Good day then, Miss Dermont. I’ll see you at dinner?”
She smiled, but said nothing. He turned to leave, but not before taking one last look up the tree. “Good luck … Mrs. Fitzsimmons!”
Several twigs fell around him and he darted out of the way of the falling debris. Adaline couldn’t help but giggle.
“Good day, Miss Dermont,” he said flatly, and left. By the time he was out the gate and around the side of the house, she heard Lorcan begin his decent.
“Oh,” she breathed as she took in the sight of him scampering down the tree, the cat over one shoulder like any damsel in distress. She laughed at the sight the closer he got. Mrs. Fitzsimmons spied her and gave a small “meow” as Lorcan climbed down. The cat was huge, white, with a grey face and a large patch of the same color on the back of her neck. She had the most beautiful green eyes Adaline had ever seen, and the animal was looking right at her.
“Now, ye wee beastie!” Lorcan scolded as his feet hit the ground. “Try to stay out of trouble from now on.” He turned, the cat still over his shoulder, and smiled triumphantly at Adaline. Mrs. Fitzsimmons tried to squirm her way around to face front, but Lorcan h
eld her in place. “She’s usually easy to deal with, but there are times …”
Adaline again giggled. “I can see that. May I hold her?”
“Certainly, if you don’t mind cat hair on your dress.”
“I don’t mind, let me have her.”
Lorcan peeled Mrs. Fitzsimmons off his shoulder, and handed her over. “She’s heavier than she looks,” he told her.
He was right. Adaline’s eyes widened at the weight in her arms. “My goodness, but you are a … solid kitty.”
“We like to think of her as large boned,” Lorcan chuckled.
Adaline shifted Mrs. Fitzsimmons in her arms. “She’s adorable. Where did you get her?”
“We didn’t, she got us.”
Adaline raised a curious brow.
“She just showed up one day, came in, and took over. My folks love her, and she’s been with us ever since.”
“When did this happen?”
“About a year ago,” he said and scratched the cat’s head. “She’s a good mouser, and likes to lounge about the shop. Sometimes though, she gets it in her head to do things like this.”
Adaline smiled. “When was the last time?”
“Remember the barn incident I mentioned?”
She nodded, her smile broadening.
“That was real. Must have been five dogs barking at her from the ground. Made me miss a fi … er, an appointment.”
“Did you do that to him?” Adaline scolded as she cuddled the animal. Mrs. Fitzsimmons began to purr loudly, as if in answer. Adaline smiled mischievously and held the cat to her chin. “Did he deserve it?”
“Hey now, can a man not speak in his own defense?”
“Oh, so you did deserve it?”
“I … well, maybe.”
Adaline pressed her lips together a moment, then laughed. Lorcan joined her, and Mrs. Fitzsimmons, continued to purr.
Five
It felt good to laugh. Not that Lorcan never did, but laughing with Miss Dermont was preferable to laughing with say, Finn, or Mr. Cotter from the mercantile and definitely better than Mr. McPhee. As soon as he did any laughing with him, he got his face bashed in, McPhee doing most of his laughing right before a fight. Miss Dermont was definitely much better to laugh with, prettier too.