Banner O'Brien

by Linda Lael Miller

  “Couldn’t this have waited?” Adam drawled, and through the thick fringe of her lashes Banner watched as his jawline tightened and a muscle twitched at the side of his neck.

  “I didn’t expect to find you and the—lady—so engaged, Adam. You must forgive me.”

  “Must I? Get out, Francelle.”

  “To be sure,” she replied, and promptly closed the door behind her.

  Adam stood at a little distance from Banner now, and his powerful shoulders slackened as he ran one hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Shamrock,” he said in gruff tones, though he did not meet her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that. Francelle will have your reputation shredded by nightfall.”

  Banner had no doubt of that. Female doctors tended to engender gossip as it was—especially in small towns. But she didn’t regret the kisses, though she knew she should have. “Do you really disappear at Christmas and then return in an ugly state of mind?” she asked, to change the subject.

  This she did regret, and instantly. Adam’s eyes were fierce when they sliced to her face, and a white line edged his jaw.

  “I only kissed you, O’Brien,” he said. “I did not offer to unveil my soul.”

  He could not have humiliated Banner any more deeply even if he had made a conscious effort. She felt cheap and presumptuous, and her eyes shifted from the strange menace in his gaze.

  To her surprise, Adam sighed raggedly and caught her shoulders in strong hands. “Shamrock, look at me,” he muttered.

  She could not, for there were tears brimming in her eyes and her fierce pride demanded that she hide them.

  Not to be dissuaded, Adam caught her chin in a hand that felt rough and smelled of antiseptic and forced her to obey his order. “I’m sorry,” he told her, and the pain in his face made it easier for her to reveal her own.

  She sniffled. He’d seen the tears, and there was nothing for it. “There is no need to apologize,” she said.

  “There is,” he insisted. “I was rude and I’m sorry.”

  Banner did not know what to say to that, and besides, she’d already set aside her own hurt feelings to wonder what it was that pained him so much. “Adam—”

  He laid an index finger to her lips. “Don’t ask me,” he said. And then he stepped back and released his hold on Banner’s chin and she felt bereft, as though a great distance had risen up between them.

  At the door of the examining room he paused, his hand on the knob. “Will you work with me, O’Brien?” he asked.

  Banner was agape. Dear heaven, what a mercurial man he was, one moment kissing her as though he would consume her, the next wounding her with words, and the next asking her to work with him! “I—I don’t understand,” she said.

  Adam arched one eyebrow and spread his gifted, healing hands wide in a gesture of gentle impatience. “I’m asking you to share my practice, O’Brien.”

  “But, Dr. Henderson—”

  “Henderson,” he scoffed. “If you’re worrying about how you’ll look after his patients, don’t. He doesn’t have any.”

  “But—Mr. Royce expressly told me—”

  “Mr. Royce, O’Brien, doesn’t give a damn whether you tend Henderson’s ‘patients’ or not. Knowing him, he took one look at you and decided that courting you would be an enjoyable diversion. Of one thing you can be certain, Shamrock: he brought you here because he found you appealing, not because he has any stirring need to provide medical care in Port Hastings.”

  Banner felt a myriad of things—confusion, anger, disbelief. “You’re lying! He said Dr. Henderson’s patients needed me—he said—”

  Adam looked maddeningly smug. “No doubt he said you were beautiful, too, didn’t he?”

  She was deflated by the truth in his words. Temple had remarked on her looks as they were leaving the waterfront in his carriage the night before.

  “I thought so,” Adam said, aptly reading the look on Banner’s face. “Don’t be naive, Shamrock. I’m offering you a job. A real job. Do you want it or not?”

  Banner was undecided. The idea of working in such a spacious, well-equipped place was attractive, on a professional level, and she knew that she would learn much from Adam. Still, how did she know that he was telling the truth? How could she be certain that he wasn’t doing exactly what he had accused Temple Royce of doing?

  “Where would I live?” she asked, reasonably.

  “This is a big house, O’Brien. You could live here.”

  The prospect was alarming. Banner O’Brien was a woman of principle and upright morality, but how long would these qualities last if there were more kisses like those just shared? Heaven help her, she’d shrunk from Sean’s kisses, and he with a legal right to them, but Adam’s were of a different ilk entirely. They stirred longings for the thing she had most hated in marriage.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said.

  Adam shrugged. “Whatever you say, O’Brien,” he tossed back as he opened the door and strode out, leaving Banner the bitter choice of following after him or staying behind and looking just as much the fool.

  She followed grudgingly, avoiding Francelle’s eyes, only to feel their scorching glare on her back as she left the office.

  Adam’s strides were long and furious as he traversed the long walkway back to the main house, and Banner scrambled after him angrily, her face flushed, her heart bruised. Damn you, she thought, with tender malice.

  As if he’d heard the words, Adam turned his head and grinned. “Well, O’Brien,” he wheedled, as they entered the dining room again. “What’s your answer?”

  “Yes,” intruded another masculine voice. “What’s your answer?”

  Banner whirled and was greeted by the benign amusement of Melissa and the tall, pirate-handsome man beside her.

  He had glossy, butternut-colored hair, this man, and his shirt had flowing sleeves and was open at the throat. His laughing eyes were the same impossibly dark blue as Adam’s, and his teeth were perfect.

  “Hello, Jeff,” said Adam, in somewhat weary tones.

  “Some greeting, after six months,” retorted Jeff, with mock indignation. He turned and looked down into Melissa’s bright eyes. “Don’t you think that’s a shame? My own brother—”

  Melissa tried to look just as annoyed. “I’m not surprised. He didn’t even bother to meet my steamer. What do you suppose he’ll do when Keith and Mama get here? Yawn?”

  Adam laughed. “Stop it, you two. You’ll have O’Brien thinking I’m without family loyalty.”

  Jeff’s blue eyes came with gentle humor to Banner’s face. “’O’Brien’? Trust my elder brother to address a beautiful woman as though she were a lumberjack. Tell me your given name, my lovely, for I do perish to know it.”

  Adam made a rude sound.

  Banner laughed and executed a curtsy befitting Jeff’s playfully formal remark. “My name is Banner,” she said.

  Adam was quietly furious. My name is Banner, he mimicked, in his mind. Damn it all to hell, he hadn’t yet dared to call her by her first name, even after those two ill-advised but patently delicious kisses stolen in the examining room, and here she was offering it to Jeff in a way that could only be called coquettish.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the way she was looking at his brother—he had to have her attention. “Shamrock,” he said crisply. “Shall we eat? We aren’t finished with our rounds and—”

  Jeff swung a knowing smirk in his direction and broke off his words by taking one of Banner’s hands in his, bending slightly, and kissing it.

  Adam seethed.

  “We’re having an all-day skating party the day before Christmas,” said Jeff smoothly, ignoring his brother. “After that, we’ll trim the tree and enjoy one of Maggie’s magnificent dinners. Won’t you join us, Banner?”

  Banner’s clover green eyes were bright as she looked up at Jeff and nodded shyly. “I don’t have skates, though,” she said.

  Melissa was quick to leap in with, “Don’t worry
, Banner, I have an extra pair. Maybe they’d fit you—let’s go up to my room and see.”

  Incredibly, O’Brien readily agreed and dashed off after Melissa as though she weren’t a doctor with patients to see. Adam ground his teeth and glared after them.

  Jeff’s laugh was low and entirely too knowing. “Where did you find that one?” he asked, folding his arms.

  Adam’s gaze sliced to his brother’s face. “Never mind where I found her,” he growled. “What the hell do you mean, kissing her hand and—”

  Jeff grinned. “And liking her? She’s the best-looking woman I’ve ever seen.”

  “Leave her alone.”

  Jeff arched one eyebrow. “Shall we discuss this further?”

  “Yes.”

  “Outside?”

  Adam nodded. “Outside.”

  They strode to the front doors and faced each other in the yard, just as they had on a thousand other occasions, throughout the tumultous years of their childhoods.

  They were about evenly matched, equal in size and weight and prowess, and a fight between them, Adam knew, could go either way. At the moment, he didn’t give a damn. Stupid as it seemed, he was ready to tangle with this brother of his, this brother he loved and respected.

  Jeff planted his booted feet wide apart and refolded his arms. “If you feel something for the lady, Adam, why don’t you just say so?”

  Adam didn’t know what he felt, beyond a crazy, consuming sort of desire. He wanted O’Brien—he had since the moment he’d walked into Henderson’s house and seen her—but he wasn’t sure how deep the feeling went, or how permanent it would be. Was it love? He couldn’t answer that question, either, since he’d never truly known what it was to love a woman.

  Jeff grinned. “Well?” he prodded.

  Adam swore. God, how he wanted, needed to throw a hard punch. “I don’t know,” he confessed lamely.

  Jeff whistled, and his blue eyes danced. “Oh, my God, it’s for real. You’re in love!”

  Adam gave a crazy whoop of frustration and turned his back. “No,” he said, after a long silence.

  “No?” Jeff mocked. “This is your brother you’re talking to, Adam. The person who knows you better than anyone else in the world does. I invited the lady to a skating party and kissed her hand, and admit it, you’re ready to cut my throat.”

  Adam lowered his head, and snow gathered, cold, on the back of his neck. Was he losing his mind? He had wanted to hurt Jeff, he still did. Jeff, his brother. His best friend!

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Adam, if you love her, it’s all right. I’ll leave her alone.”

  “I met her last night,” Adam said, drawing deep breaths that did nothing to clear his mind. “Last night How the hell can I be ‘in love’ with her?”

  “Stranger things have happened,” Jeff replied. “Besides, she’s so beautiful—I only met her about five minutes ago, and I’m a little in love myself.”

  Adam whirled, his fists clenched, his reason displaced.

  Jeff laughed and stepped back, holding up both his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Adam, Adam—for God’s sake, it’s almost Christmas. What will Mama say if she comes home from Olympia and finds me, her favorite son, a mass of bruises and cuts?”

  Adam relaxed his hands. “Am I insane?”

  “Yes,” replied Jeff. “But that’s nothing new. And there isn’t any medicine for the fever you’ve got now, brother—believe me.”

  Adam made a bellowing sound, strode over to the nearest snowbank, and fell into it face first. He was almost surprised that the ground didn’t sizzle.

  Jeff’s laughter rang toward the sky, and then he reached down and helped his brother to his feet and they went into the house, each with an arm around the other.

  * * *

  Banner learned much while she was trying on Melissa’s spare skates—with two extra pairs of stockings, they fit her feet perfectly—about the Corbin family.

  There were three brothers, all born within a year of each other, Adam first, Jeff second, and Keith third. The youngest brother had been thirteen when Melissa came along, but despite her late arrival, she was very close to all three of her siblings.

  Her mother’s name was Katherine, and from Melissa’s description Banner discerned that she was both beautiful and formidable. She traveled almost constantly, making speeches in support of woman suffrage, and wrote articles that were printed in highly respected periodicals.

  “What about your father?” Banner ventured, as she sat tugging her high-button shoes back onto her feet.

  Melissa’s expression made her instantly contrite. “He died five years ago,” she said.

  “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Melissa went to stand at the window nearest the fireplace, where a pleasant blaze was crackling, and stood looking out, one lace curtain crumpled in her hand. “There was an accident, out on the water—P-Papa and Adam were salmon fishing in Papa’s boat. The Indians saved Adam, but they couldn’t find Papa.”

  Banner swallowed hard. “Oh, Melissa.”

  The girl turned to face Banner, and her crystalline eyes were glistening. “It was terrible for Adam. I think he blamed himself. He still broods about it, and sometimes he disappears for a whole day or even longer.”

  Banner spoke gently. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because Adam likes you—I know he does. Maybe you’re exactly the person we’ve all been hoping he’d find.” She paused, searched the shadowed ceiling of her bedroom, and sighed. “Please, Banner, don’t hurt him. He’s been through so much.”

  Banner recalled his reaction to her question in the examining room, a question that had only echoed Francelle’s. “The girl in his office,” she mused. “She asked him if he meant to come to the Christmas party or if he would disappear again. Is that what you mean?”

  Melissa nodded miserably. “Holidays are harder for Adam. He stays away as long as he can, and when he gets back, he’s impossible.”

  “Maybe he just doesn’t enjoy celebrations,” offered Banner lamely, wishing that she could say something that would reassure the girl.

  But Melissa shook her head. “Before Papa died, he loved them.”

  Banner ached to think of what Adam might be suffering, of how he might be burdened with guilt because he’d lived after the accident and his father hadn’t. There seemed nothing to do but change the subject.

  “You’ve told me that Jeff is captain of a clipper ship—the Sea Mistress, wasn’t it—and that Keith is in charge of the family’s apple orchards over beyond the mountains. What about you, Melissa? What do you do?”

  Melissa’s pinched little face brightened, and she lifted her chin proudly. “I attend the territorial university, in Seattle. I want to be a journalist, like Mama.”

  “That’s wonderful! What kind of pieces do you write?”

  Mischief frolicked in the beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll show you, if you promise never to tell a soul! My brothers would—would—well, it doesn’t bear thinking about, that’s all.” She was opening a chest at the foot of her bed, rummaging through it. After a moment or so, she drew out a publication with a lurid cover that showed a scantily clad woman being carried by a bearded mountain man. The title read, “Tenacia’s Adventures in the Wild West.”

  Banner was aghast for a moment, but she recovered herself quickly. The byline was that of a man named Marshall S. Whidbine. “You—you drew this picture?” she asked, hopefully.

  “Heavens, no,” said Melissa, sitting down beside Banner on the bed. “I’m Marshall Whidbine!”

  Banner’s mouth fell open, much to Melissa’s uproarious delight.

  “Remember, Banner,” she chided, between giggles, “You promised to keep my secret! Besides, the stories aren’t really like the pictures lead one to believe.”

  “I certainly hope not,” breathed Banner. “Why do you do this, Melissa? You surely don’t need the money—”

  Melissa spread her hands in a Corbin
ish gesture that was becoming very familiar to Banner. “I do it for practice, for experience. The same way you probably visited hospitals when you were still a student.”

  Banner’s hands trembled a little as she handed the dime novel back to its very young author. “Why don’t you write a—a real book?”

  Melissa smiled and touched the cover of her work with a tender hand. “I will, when I know enough. Would you read this for me, Banner, and tell me what you think? What you honestly think?”

  Banner had been meaning to buy a copy at the first opportunity, but she took the volume Melissa offered eagerly. “I’d love to read it,” she said in all sincerity.

  “Good,” replied Melissa in a delighted whisper. “But be sure you don’t tell. Adam stopped spanking me years ago, but if he found out about this, he’d probably take it up again!”

  Banner laughed all the way down the stairs, but Melissa’s novel was tucked safely into her cloak pocket, and she would have died before betraying the secret.

  She and Adam shared a rather stiff luncheon, alone in the big, brick-floored kitchen, and then left the house again.

  They were settled in the buggy, this time with a heavy bearskin lap rug to cover their legs, before Adam spoke of what was on his mind.

  “Will you join my practice, Banner?”

  She smiled at his use of her first name, welcoming it. “Yes,” she said. “But I’d best go on living in Dr. Henderson’s house—just until I find a place of my own.”

  For a moment Adam looked as though he might protest this last, but in the end, he didn’t. “Thank you,” he said. “Did the skates fit?”

  Banner smiled. “Yes.”

  He frowned, keeping his eyes carefully on the road, which the horse seemed to know well enough for both of them. “You’re coming to the party, then?”

  The prospect of a Christmas spent alone paled beside one passed with such fun-loving sorts as Melissa and the charming and handsome Jeff. “Of course,” she answered. “Don’t you want me to?”

  A muscle flexed in his angular jaw, then relaxed again. “O’Brien, as long as you take care of my patients, I don’t care what you do with your free time.”