Her Irish Surrender

by Kit Morgan

  “He’ll live, but his fighting days are over. At least they should be,” the doctor remarked. He looked to the others. “I told him to stop, that he couldn’t keep doing this.”

  “Seems tonight he … wasn’t given the choice,” McPhee said, and glared at the Englishman.

  “He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” the Englishman stated as the woman reached out and touched Lorcan’s hand. “I’d like to see him fight again.”

  Finn’s hackles went up, and he stiffened. “Ye heard the doctor, he’ll not be fighting any more.”

  The Englishman chuckled. “I know fighters, boy. And this is a real fighter, a good one too. He’ll fight again if I want him to.”

  Finn brought himself to within inches of the man. “No, no it’s my fault he’s here, and I … I was wrong to bring him. He’ll never fight again. Not unless he really wants to, and even then, I won’t let him.”

  The Englishman looked Finn up and down. “Commendable, but stupid. He’ll fight.” He then took the woman by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. “Until next time, gentlemen.” He turned on his heel, and with the woman in tow, sauntered away.

  “No, he won’t!” Finn called after him.

  Doc Henderson touched Finn on the shoulder. “Don’t aggravate the man, he’s … he’s not one to be trifled with, son.”

  Finn looked at him, then at Lorcan as he started to moan. “I’ll make sure he never fights again, I swear.” When he looked at the doctor again he had tears in his eyes. “I almost got my best friend killed tonight.”

  Doc Henderson continued to clean Lorcan up. “Lucky for you, he’s still quite alive. Though you might not be after he’s done with you.”

  Finn swallowed hard. “Aye, but at least I’ll know I deserved it after what I did to him. Lorcan, he didn’t deserve any of this.”

  “Then I suggest you see him married and settled down, before it’s too late,” the doctor suggested.

  Finn wiped away a tear. “Aye, it’s the least I can do.”

  Six

  Adaline came to work the next day, her heart heavy. Mr. Walker had talked and talked at dinner last night, and though he was entertaining and witty, he didn’t put the same skip in her step as Lorcan had the day before. It was obvious Mr. Walker was trying to impress her, and would ask her if they could court. But what should she tell him? Eventually she’d have to find a husband. It wasn’t that she didn’t like how things were going, she could continue to live at the boarding house and work for Mrs. Brody, but for how long? Even if she knew her job with the Brodys’ was secure, how long before she got lonely, and wanted to marry and start a family? She didn’t want to be by herself forever. She sighed with the thought and entered the bookshop.

  “You’re not welcome here again, Finn Mullany!” Mrs. Brody screeched as Adaline stepped through the door. A book, followed by another, and another, flew through the air straight for Finn’s head.

  He ducked in time to avoid the first and second, but not the third. “OW!”

  Mrs. Brody charged across the store, a measuring stick in her hand, where it had come from Adaline didn’t know. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at the scene. “And another thing!” Mrs. Brody scolded, her brogue thicker than ever. “I’ll … I’ll …” she dropped the measuring stick, threw her face into her hands and wept.

  Adaline looked at Finn, who stood biting his lower lip, his eyes closed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he patted Mrs. Brody on the back. “So sorry …”

  She brought her face out of her hands. “You ought to be! Now get out of here!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his head low, and skulked to the door. He looked at Adaline, his eyes red, hair slightly disheveled. If she didn’t know any better she’d say he’d been up all night. Maybe he had. She looked back to Mrs. Brody who now stood staring into space.

  “Mr. Mullany?” Adaline asked.

  Finn shook his head. “When ye see him, know that it was my fault. I take full responsibility.”

  Adaline’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Finn looked over his shoulder at Mrs. Brody. “She’ll tell you,” he said, and without another word, left the shop.

  Adaline listened as the door shut behind him, then made her way to Mrs. Brody. “Ma’am? What happened? You’re upset …”

  “Aye,” she whimpered. She looked at Adaline, and she watched in fascination as Mrs. Brody’s face went from sorrow to fire. “What mother wouldn’t be when her boy comes home looking like … like he’s been …” she took a deep breath. “It has to stop. It will stop!”

  “Mrs. Brody, I don’t know what you’re talking about, other than … oh good Lord, something’s happened to Lorcan … I mean, Mr. Brody?”

  “You can call him Lorcan. There’s no harm in it.”

  Adaline glanced about the shop. “Where is he?”

  Mrs. Brody took a fortifying breath. “Upstairs with the doctor.”

  “The doctor?” Adaline asked, eyes wide. The image of Lorcan flying out of a shop window hit her like a brick and she knew, knew what had Mrs. Brody so upset. “Oh no…”

  Mrs. Brody looked at her, and gave her a curt nod. “He’ll not be working for a few days, I’m afraid you’ll have to carry the load until then.”

  Adaline felt the first hot sting of tears, sucked in a breath to hold them at bay, and nodded in return. “I’ll take care of everything.” She let go her breath. “Is he … hurt badly?”

  “He’ll be hurting a lot worse than he is now when I’m done with him!”

  Adaline sighed in relief. “Thank the Lord,” she whispered.

  Mrs. Brody looked at her. “Now don’t you worry none, dearie. The boy has suffered worse, he’ll live. Ye know, one of the main reasons we sent for you was so he’d settle down and stop this nonsense. Maybe now he’ll listen to us, and we might yet have ourselves a wedding.” She smiled and winked at her. “Now what say we get to work?”

  Adaline’s eyes darted to the stairs in the back, then traveled to the ceiling. She swallowed hard and nodded, her stomach knotted with worry. For some reason she sensed Lorcan was more badly injured than his mother let on. Finn Mullany’s words came back to her. “When you see him, know that this is my fault. I take full responsibility.”

  A chill went up her spine. “Can I see him?” she blurted.

  Mrs. Brody was behind the counter by now. “What was that?”

  Adaline went to her. “Lorcan, can I see him?”

  Mrs. Brody’s eyes widened. “What would you be wanting to see him for, dearie?” she asked.

  “I … I don’t know.” Indeed, she didn’t know, but needed to see him all the same.

  Mrs. Brody smiled. “The doctor is with him now, but when he leaves, I’ll take you up.” A tiny smile curved her lips, before it blossomed. “I so hoped … well, never mind. Let’s see what work we can get done before the doctor comes down.”

  Adaline nodded her thanks, and together, they readied the shop for the day. No sooner had they finished the morning’s preparations, the doctor came down.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” the doctor said when he saw Mrs. Brody. “That boy of yours is tough as nails.”

  “He’s a hard-headed mule and needs a good beating!”

  “I’d say he’s already had one,” the doctor told her gently.

  Mrs. Brody’s lower lip trembled. “I’m going to kill him all the same,” she croaked.

  Adaline turned her face away, as the first of her unshed tears fell. Why was it affecting her this way? She hardly knew the man when it came down to it. But she liked Mrs. and Mr. Brody, and had come to care for them a lot over the last few days.

  “Come along, dearie, so ye can speak to the soon departed,” Mrs. Brody said as she took one of her hands. The doctor laughed at her remark and headed for the door. Mrs. Brody ignored it, and stayed her course for the stairs.

  Mr. Brody was coming down when they reached them. “Go easy on him, Mrs. Brody,” he said as h
e took out his pipe. “He’s weak and bruised, no matter what the doctor says. I’d say his pride hurts him most of all.”

  “Understood Mr. Brody. Besides, I’m not going up there to berate the boy, Miss Dermont wants a word with him.”

  Mr. Brody puckered his brow. “Does she now?”

  “Aye, and I’ll see she gives it. Now out of the way if ye don’t mind, Mr. Brody.”

  He stepped aside, put his pipe in his mouth, and winked at Adaline as she passed. They reached the top of the stairs. Adaline had never seen the Brodys’ living quarters before, and noted the framed Irish proverb hanging on the wall by the door. She didn’t have time to read it before Mrs. Brody pulled her inside. They entered a good-sized parlor/dining room and Adeline noted the kitchen down a short hall in the back. She looked around and saw two other doors off the hall, and assumed them to be bedrooms.

  Sure enough, it was to them Mrs. Brody led her. “Now wait here, dearie. I’ll just go in and see how he’s doing first.” She turned to the door, and softly knocked, then went inside.

  Adaline stood, eyes wide, as she realized the impropriety of the situation. She was about to go into a man’s bedchamber after all, but Mrs. Brody would be right there, and it’s not as if Lorcan was in any shape to … well, act improper.

  Mrs. Brody poked her head out the door. “All right, dearie, come in.” She stepped aside to allow Adaline admittance, then placed herself in the doorway.

  Adaline took one look at Lorcan and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she did. She took in the black and blue form and couldn’t help the tears that followed. Even Mrs. Fitzsimmons looked worried, as she sat on the end of the bed at his feet, and stared at him. “Mr. Brody,” Adaline managed.

  His head turned in her direction. Both eyes were swollen shut, and she bit her fist to stifle her reaction. His nose was huge, and she wondered if it was broken. His hands had been wrapped in bandages, and another graced his head. He was also bare-chested, his ribs wrapped as well. “Merciful Heavens,” she breathed.

  He licked dry lips. “Miss Dermont,” he said, his voice stronger than she expected. “You seem to have me … at a disadvantage.”

  She wiped at her tears. “Mr. Brody, I … I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about, ‘oh bugger, what happened to you?’”

  She smiled despite her concern over him. “If you say so.”

  “Well? Let’s hear it then.”

  She smiled again, her lower lip trembling. He obviously looked much worse than he was. “Oh … bugger. What happened to you?”

  “I tripped.”

  Both hands flew to her mouth and she laughed, her tears falling free. “On what? An elephant?”

  He grimaced. “Bigger.” He licked his lips again. Mrs. Brody went to a dresser and poured him a glass of water. “Here, dearie. Give this to him.”

  “Me?” Adaline said aghast. “How can I? Look at him.”

  “I’ll help you,” Mrs. Brody said as she went to the bed. She stepped around to the other side, sat, and motioned for Adaline to join her. She seated herself opposite Mrs. Brody and together, they each put a hand beneath his head. Careful not to hurt him, they lifted him up enough so he could drink. Adaline held the glass to his lips, and he drank greedily.

  She fought against fresh tears as she watched him. So this is what happened when he fought. What would she do if she were married to such a man? How infuriated would she be to see him brought home like this? She glanced to Mrs. Brody as she took the glass from him. No wonder she’d been screaming such threats at Finn downstairs.

  Adaline’s concern for his well-being was dissolving into anger, and something inside her snapped. True, she didn’t know him well, but cared enough about the family to understand their fear, and feel it. “Just look at you. That must have been some fight.”

  Her tone held a scold, but she didn’t care.

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “Good.”

  His mouth dropped open a little, and she wondered if that’s all he could manage. Mrs. Brody snorted and stood. “I’ll be right back. He’ll be needing more water and the pitcher is empty.”

  Adaline nodded and watched her leave. When she was gone, she studied their patient, and marveled at the sheer size of him. She felt small next to his frame, and took her time looking at him. After all, he couldn’t look back and didn’t know what she was doing.

  “Like what you see, Miss Dermont?”

  Or could he? She stifled a gasp before it could escape, and turned her flushed face away. “I think I’d better sit elsewhere.”

  He raised a bandaged hand. “No, stay here.”

  “Mr. Brody …” she began to protest.

  “Lorcan, call me Lorcan …”

  She could hear the first signs of fatigue in his voice, and wondered how much effort it took him now to talk. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to call you by your given name.”

  “You’re in bed with me …” he pointed out.

  She blushed a furious red, and felt the heat of it travel throughout her body. “Precisely, Mr. Brody.”

  He smiled and a small chuckle escaped him, followed by a grimace. “Please, don’t make me laugh.”

  “Hmmm, perhaps I should think of some jokes …”

  “No, don’t you dare … Adaline Dermont.”

  She smiled at the sound of her name on his lips. It made her belly warm. “Miss Dermont,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Miss Dermont …” he repeated, his voice weaker now. “Adaline … thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Giving me a drink …”

  “It was only water, Mr. Brody.”

  “It tasted like Heaven …” he croaked.

  The tears returned. “You should rest now, Mr. Bro …”

  “Lorcan, call me … Lorcan.”

  “Lorcan.”

  He smiled, and then it was gone. Adaline glanced around, spied a quilt folded at the end of the bed, and waving Mrs. Fitzsimmons out of the way, pulled it over the thin blanket already covering him. He put his wrist and bandaged hand over hers before she let the quilt go. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Rest now ... Lorcan.”

  He didn’t respond, and though his face was puffy, she could see his relaxed jaw, and knew sleep was claiming him. She sat then, and simply watched him. The rise and fall of his chest, the sheer broadness of it, the cut on his upper lip, the scrapes, the bruises, and she wondered. What drives a man to fight? Was it for the thrill? The win? To know as a man you are the best there is? Or something more? Perhaps she’d have a chance to ask Lorcan, if his mother hadn’t knocked him senseless by then. She smiled at the thought, and got up from the bed. “Oh,” she breathed. Mr. and Mrs. Brody both stood in the doorway, smiles on their faces. “I didn’t realize you were there,” she whispered as she glanced back at Lorcan’s sleeping form.

  Mrs. Brody smiled, and held a hand out to her. “Let’s leave him to his rest now. You’ll see him again later.”

  Adaline looked at her. “I will?”

  “Of course, dearie. I think you do the boy, good.”

  Adaline took one last look at the bed. “How do you know?”

  Mr. Brody took the unlit pipe from his mouth. “He never talks this much after a fight,” he whispered and motioned her to the door.

  “Never?” The warmth she felt earlier, wrapped around her belly once more.

  They were in the hall now, and Mrs. Brody closed the door behind them. “Never. Now what say we all have ourselves a cookie to celebrate?”

  “Celebrate what?” Adaline asked.

  Mr. Brody chuckled. “The end of Lorcan’s fighting days.”

  * * *

  Adaline walked home, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Early March in Oregon could be cold, but at other times pleasant, Mrs. Brody explained before she left the shop. She asked Adaline if she would like to pay another visit to Lorcan before she left for the day, and she
did, though he slept the entire time. She wasn’t sure who benefited by her sitting with him. Perhaps the Brodys’ asked her up because it helped them finish a few things before calling it a day. Or, perhaps it had something to do with the fact they knew she liked being with him. She couldn’t deny she did, especially after they’d been watching her sit with him earlier.

  She had to admit, it was relaxing in an odd sort of way, despite his horrid appearance, and she caught herself dozing off in her chair. Mrs. Brody suggested she come by tomorrow and read to him. She found the idea intriguing, and felt her chest swell with anticipation just thinking about it. Until she got to the boarding house, that is.

  “Oh, Miss Dermont?”

  Adaline stopped short at the familiar voice. Mr. Walker popped out of nowhere as she reached the porch steps. “Hello,” she said in a polite tone. She didn’t feel like speaking with him. Once he got started he talked, and talked, and …

  “Miss Dermont, last night at dinner, you didn’t acknowledge my note. I was wondering if you’d do so now.”

  She stared at him. Oh gads, the note! Something about church on Sunday? Good Heavens, was that tomorrow? “I haven’t decided.”

  “Decided? What is there to decide?”

  She raised an eyebrow at that. Did he think there wasn’t a decision to be made? She did have a choice in the matter. “I’m afraid I may be preoccupied.”

  “Pre … occupied?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, Mr. Walker.”

  “I sound nothing of the kind, I just thought that, well …”

  “That I had no other prospects?”

  He stood speechless for a moment. “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. Now was as good a time as any to let him know they would never suit.