by Kit Morgan
He held out a hand, two, and searched. Addy walked into his arms, and he crushed her to his chest. “My God, what have I done?” he whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
She didn’t talk, but wept against him before she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. “Lorcan Brody,” she said firmly after she broke the kiss. “I’ve made up my mind. You’re going to marry me, and there’ll be no argument, you hear?”
He took a step back, surprised at her outburst, and smiled.
“She sounds just like yer maither,” Finn commented dryly.
Someone laughed, a man, but Lorcan had no idea who it was. “Reverend Franklin?” he guessed.
“Right here, shall we begin?”
Lorcan held Addy to him, as if he feared she’d escape his arms. “Aye, Reverend, but first, I’ll not be out done by a slip of a girl.”
Silence, and Lorcan pictured them looking at each other in confusion. He could smell his da’s pipe, and knew his parents were just outside the door. Good. He put Addy from him, took her hand, and went down on one knee. “Adeline Dermont, if ye could see it in your heart to marry a man with nothing to offer, nothing to give but himself, then, will you marry me?”
He heard her sob, felt her hands on his face again before they moved to his wrists. She pulled on them to help him up. As soon as he was standing, she threw her arms around him. “Yes!”
He smiled. “Reverend Franklin? Now you can start.”
Twelve
Adeline stretched, but didn’t get far. Lorcan held her tightly against him. She smiled as her mind embraced the memories of the night before. The vows they exchanged in the parlor, his mother’s singing and tears. Finn’s laughter, and Lorcan himself, who despite being blind, swept her into his arms, and with his father’s guidance, carried her down the hall and across the threshold of his room. They’d been there ever since.
Judging from the light coming in through the window, it was near noon. “I’m late for work,” she whispered.
A chuckle rumbled through him. “Your work starts here, lass.”
She smiled, took his hand, placed it on her mouth so he could feel it. “Yes, I know.” She kissed him then, and set to the task of taking care of her husband.
Hours later, there was a knock on the door. Adeline got up, wrapped a blanket about her, and sighed in contentment. She knew what was there. A knock had sounded much earlier in the day, and a tray of food had been left for them. This must be another, and it was. She took the tray, and retreated back into the dim room. The sun was already setting.
She set the tray on the dresser, and turned to face her new husband. He sat looking at her, and though she knew he could not see her with his eyes, he could sense her presence, discern her mood. It was uncanny, and she didn’t know what to make of it. She’d heard of such things, but didn’t realize they could take root so quickly. He told her how he prayed for a miracle so he could get his sight back. But perhaps, another miracle was taking place, one none of them as yet understood.
“I’ve your dinner, Mr. Brody.”
He smiled. “Then let’s have it, Mrs. Brody.”
And so they did, and so much more …
* * *
The next morning, another knock sounded at the door, one much earlier. “Time to get up and start the day, you two,” came Mr. Brody’s voice. “The shop needs tending!”
Adaline laughed. “We’ll be along.”
“See that ye are. Yer breakfast is on the table,” he called back.
She smiled and began to tick off a mental list of things she needed to take care of now that she was Mrs. Lorcan Brody. She’d need to gather her things from the boarding house for one. “We’d best do as he says, and get to work.”
“Aye. I wouldn’t mind getting out of the house. I’ve had myself cooped up in here for too long.”
She looked at him. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling. She swallowed and brushed his hair off his forehead. “Aye,” she softly said.
He smiled. “I’ll make you into an Irish woman yet.”
“That you will, but if we don’t get downstairs, your mother will make us into something else.”
He laughed, and they both got out of bed, and dressed.
After breakfast, Adeline and Mr. Brody helped Lorcan down the stairs. He stopped when they reached the bottom. It was his first time to leave the apartment since his sight left him, and he shook with emotion. “Let go of me now, let me find my own way.”
“Are ye sure that’s wise, son?”
“I have to learn.”
Adaline and Mr. Brody took a step back, and watched as Lorcan, hands outstretched, felt his way to the front counter. He faltered only once, and Mrs. Brody already behind the counter, covered her mouth with a hand to keep from crying out as he reached his goal, and almost fell. “Maither? I’ll have no tears. We’ve work to do. Take out the ledgers, I want to go over them.”
His mother’s tears were ran free, and she wiped them away with her apron before she spoke. “Aye, give me a moment.” No sooner had she wiped her eyes, her tears broke free again. She looked helplessly to her husband, who was doing his best to keep his own tears at bay.
“Looks like a fine day!” Adeline called across the shop. “Let’s get to work!”
“That’s the spirit, lass,” Mr. Brody choked. “Let’s do.”
They worked through the day as normal as was possible. Adaline read the numbers recorded in the ledger to Lorcan, who knew exactly what was what, even though he’d not seen them for over a week. He added and subtracted in his head like nobody’s business, and she began to see his determination in the set of his jaw, the sweat on his brow as he rattled figures off so she could write them down. By the end of the day, he was exhausted from his efforts.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” she told him as she returned the ledger to its resting place under the counter.
“I do to myself. Allow me that.”
She nodded as she touched his arm, “Right. I understand.”
“Take me outside, Addy. I want to breathe fresh air.”
She smiled, happy with the request. She knew it would do him good. “Give me a moment, wait right here.” She found the nearest chair, took it outside and placed it near the door. She returned to him, took his hand, and led him from the bookshop.
Lorcan turned his face from the light of the settting sun, and squeezed his eyes shut. “My hat, lass. It you don’t mind fetching it for me.”
“Not at all,” she said as she guided him to the chair.
He sat, and sighed heavily. “I’ll never take fresh air for granted again. Thank you.”
“I’ll let your folks know where you are, then see about getting some of my things from the boarding house. It was nice of Mrs. Brown to bring me a dress yesterday, but I’ll need another.”
“You do that. I’ll sit here and enjoy the evening.”
“Dinner will be ready soon, I’m sure your mother will come for you if I’m not back by then.”
“Aye, in that your right,” he chuckled. “She hates anyone to be late for a meal.”
Adeline kissed him on the forehead, then went inside to fetch his hat. She hummed as she went upstairs, confident in the fact everything was going to be all right. They would make things work, they had to, and she vowed to do whatever it took to see her husband had as normal a life as possible. It might mean more work on her part, but she would adjust. After all, he would do no less for her. He loved her that much. She smiled again as she entered the apartment. If their love was this strong now, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like in five, ten, twenty years …
She stifled a sob at the mere thought of it, stopped just inside the door of the apartment, and gave thanks to the good Lord for bringing her out west when He had, and to the husband she knew was meant for her.
She wiped at her eyes, and took Lorcan’s hat from a peg by the door. “Maither?” she called, the Brodys’ having insisted she beg
in referring to them as maither and da.
“Aye, what is it?” Mrs. Brody rushed out from the kitchen. “Is something wrong? Where’s Lorcan?”
“Calm yourself, everything’s all right. He’s sitting in front of the shop, enjoying the fresh air. I’ve come for his hat. I’m going to run and get some things from the boarding house. Is dinner almost ready?”
“Aye,” she said and stopped. They could hear some sort of ruckus in the street below, the neigh of a horse, and a wagon. Mrs. Brody shook her head as she looked to the window. “Fools, why folks drive so fast is beyond me, always in a hurry.” She gave her attention back to Adeline. “Dinner should be ready by the time ye return. Bring the lad up with ye then. Let him enjoy himself a few moments.”
Adeline nodded. They both knew Lorcan needed this time to sit and relax. “I will.” She left, went downstairs, straightened a book or two on her way to the shop’s door, and went outside.
Lorcan was gone.
* * *
“Blind? How inconvenient.”
Lorcan recognized the voice. It was the same Englishman from the night of his last fight. “What do you want with me?” he asked, his voice a hiss.
“Not what I originally planned, but I’ve some new thoughts on the matter. You’ll be more entertaining to watch without your sight.”
Lorcan struggled against his bonds. They’d lashed his hands behind his back, his ankles likewise. He sat against a wall, legs stretched out in front of him. He could feel hay against his fingers, and under his body, smell it in the air. The scent of chicken feed, oats and horse manure was also in the air. He had to be in a barn, probably a horse stall.
“Save your strength for the ring,” the Englishman said, closer now. He was bent over him, and Lorcan fought the urge to head-butt the man. But what good would it do? He’d have to free himself from the ropes before he had any hope of escape. And even then, without his eyesight, he was still at the Englishman’s mercy.
Lorcan closed his eyes, and let his senses wander. Though his nose told him he was in a barn, his ears conveyed a different story. There was not one animal sound to be heard. The barn must be where the fight would be held, and Lorcan silently cursed at the realization it was St. Patrick’s Day. His parents should have closed the bookshop, made the usual preparations to celebrate. Instead they’d let him work and have some semblance of a normal day. Despite his dire circumstances, he smiled. His parents had given the day as a gift.
“I’d wipe that smile off your face if I were you,” the Englishman said, his voice a sneer. “You won’t last long, though I’ll be sure to make your demise as entertaining for my guests as possible.”
Lorcan stiffened. “What are ye talking about?” His brogue came alive with his anger.
The Englishman chuckled. “My dear fellow, you didn’t think I’d steal you away for a fight, just to let you go afterwards? That would never do. Besides, this wouldn’t be a blood sport, if there wasn’t any spilled.”
Lorcan’s breathing picked up. “Why ye bloody bast … who are ye?” He sensed the man’s face next to him, could feel his breath on his ear.
“Lord Philip Brennan, as you’re so curious. But I’m so much more. As are you, which is why you’re here.”
His voice sent a chill up Lorcan’s spine and he shivered. He felt the air stir as the man stood erect and could feel his eyes on him. “Finn was right, yer addled in the head …”
“What? Mad? No, on the contrary, I’m as sane as they come.”
“Ye’ll leave my family out of this!”
“That was before, this is now. You’ll fight to save them I’m sure. But will you die well enough to save them?”
Lorcan raised his face to the sound of Brennan’s voice. “What are ye saying?”
There was a silence, and if Lorcan didn’t know any better, he’d swear he could feel the man smile with sadistic pleasure. “I won’t harm your family, or that new pretty little wife of yours, if you die well enough in the ring.”
“What? How do you know about her?”
“I know many things, Mr. Brody. Fight like you’ve never fought before, die like no one else has ever seen, and I’ll make sure your loved ones don’t suffer a similar death.”
Lorcan was speechless. He was dealing with an evil he never knew existed. He closed his eyes against the pain in his heart. Adaline’s face flashed before him, he could see her as clear as if she were right there. “Addy …”
“You fight in three hours, Mr. Brody. I suggest you find the strength to die well.”
Lorcan heard the rustle of hay as the man left, the closing latch of a door, the sound of retreating footsteps. He struggled against the ropes binding him, and in pure frustration, let out a howl of anger.
Where was he that they hadn’t bothered to gag him? He cried out again. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Nothing. He was alone, and probably out in the middle of nowhere. “Oh, Addy … I’m so sorry.”
* * *
Adaline paced the Sheriff’s office. “Anything?” she asked as a deputy came through the door.
“Nothing ma’am, we’re still looking. He couldn’t have gone far.”
“He couldn’t have gone at all!” she spat. “He’s blind! Something happened, someone had to have taken him.”
“Ma’am, we’re doing everything we can. Besides, who would want to take him? If he’s been kidnapped, then why haven’t you received some kind of note? Isn’t that how it works?”
Adaline threw her hands up in frustration. She had to remind herself this was not New Orleans. There were no Pinkerton detectives to call to the case, no masterminds of the law at her disposal, and no clues as to what happened. She remembered hearing a wagon, a ruckus in the street below. That had to have been when Lorcan disappeared, but that was over two hours ago, it was nearly dark now. Who knows what he might have suffered in that time.
His parents were combing the city with the Van Cleets and Mr. Dixon from the boarding house. Maybe they’d have better luck than the Sheriff and his deputies.
She paced again. “Think, Ada, think!” she said to herself. She walked the floor a few more times and stopped. “Finn.”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am?”
She spun to the deputy. “Mullany’s Funeral Parlor, where is it?”
His eyes grew wide. “That’s a little pre-mature, don’t you think, ma’am? After all, he is your husband. Don’t give up so soon …”
“No, no! I need to find Finn Mullany!”
“Finn’s probably out at the cemetery, digging.”
“Where is it, where’s the cemetery?”
“Just outside town. Southeast, about a half a mile.”
Before he could say another word, Adaline shot out the door. She didn’t even bother to grab her shawl. The only thing she knew was that if she didn’t find Finn and find him fast, Lorcan would come to harm. She felt it with every fiber of her being.
She ran down the street in the direction the deputy said, and saw the Funeral Parlor at the edge of town. She went to the door in case Finn might have returned.
Locked.
She breathed heavily and struck the door with a fist. Then she remembered it was St. Patrick’s Day. The Mullanys’ must have closed early, if they opened at all. Finn might be working extra to get caught up. She knew they’d been shorthanded.
Adaline took a fortifying breath, lifted her skirts, and raced on. It wasn’t long before she caught sight of the cemetery, and saw Finn bent over a grave. She fell against the gate to catch her breath, and fought the urge to sink to her knees in exhaustion. “Finn ..” she cried, her voice a pitiful rasp. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and had to grip the gate’s decretive iron bars to hold herself up. “Finn …” she tried again, louder this time.
She pushed away from the gate and stumbled toward him. He looked up, his face a mask of confusion, then suddenly, dead serious. “Adeline!” He threw down the shovel in his hands and ran to her. “Adeline … I mea
n Miss Dermont … Mrs. Brody!” he cried and he caught her as she fell. What’s happened?”
“Lorcan …” she rasped. “He’s gone missing. I … I think … someone took him.”
Finn paled. “Great Mother of God … no …”
Adaline straightened, and took a deep breath. “Finn Mullany! I know you two have been keeping something from me! This has something to do with that last fight, doesn’t it?”
Finn shook his head, speechless.
“I’m not some silly woman who doesn’t have eyes. No man gets that beat up and comes home without so much as a word to the Sheriff. There are fights, and then there are fights, the kind that go against the law. Even I know that.”
Finn swallowed hard, shocked at her tirade. But Adaline didn’t care. “Where is he?” She asked. “I swear, if he’s fighting, I’m going to kill you first, and then kill him!”
Finn swallowed again “My fault, all my fault …” he mumbled.
“What are you talking about? What is going on?”
Finn looked at her, his mouth open. He snapped it shut. “There was a man, an Englishman, he arranged the last fight. He forced Lorcan into it … and it was my fault. I took him there, told him Lorcan would fight. Lorcan didn’t want to, so they took him anyway, and made him …”
Adaline’s eyes widened as she remembered the Englishman who rescued her from the advances of Herbert. Were they one in the same? They had to be. How many Englishmen could there be in Oregon City? “Where is this man?”
“I don’t know. I …” Finn’s eyes rounded. “Oh my Lord, it’s St. Patrick’s Day …”
“Finn?” Adaline’s voice was laced in warning.
Finn’s fingers fumbled as he yanked out his pocket watch. “Oh no! It’s almost time!”
“Time for what?”
He looked at her, eyes frantic. “The fight is in less than an hour!”
Adaline’s expression went flat. “What fight?” she pushed out through clenched teeth.