Rylan gestured behind him. “Kathleen and James, this is my brother Gabriel and my baby sister, Maggie.”
Kathleen came forward to hug both Gabe and Maggie. “It’s so wonderful to meet you.” She took Maggie’s face in her hands. “Why, Maggie, you look just like your dear mother at the same age. We were as close as sisters until I came to America with my family.”
Maggie smiled. “I know. Mum talks about you often.”
Kathleen turned her attention to Gabe. “And you, young man. You’re as handsome as your brother. The same dimples, too, I see.”
Gabe grinned, finding it impossible to resist her cheeriness. “A Montgomery trademark.”
James O’Leary stepped forward to shake Gabe’s hand. “Good to meet you, lad. Are you enjoying your visit to America so far?”
“Yes, sir. New York is a fascinating city.”
Kathleen looped her hand through her husband’s arm. “Gabe, I understand you’re staying in Colleen and Rylan’s attic room. If you’d be more comfortable here, we have more than enough space and would love to have you.”
A movement across the room caught Gabe’s eye. The shimmer of jewels and a flash of golden hair riveted his attention. Gabe forgot to breathe as the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen turned her head and met his gaze.
Maggie elbowed him in the side. “You didn’t answer Kathleen’s question.”
“Ah, sorry. I got distracted by all the . . . beauty surrounding me.”
Maggie gave an impolite snort.
“Thank you kindly for the offer, Kathleen, but I’m volunteering at the fire station a few blocks from Rylan’s, so it’s best for me to be close by.”
The arrival of a smiling young woman with red hair and green eyes interrupted them. She rushed forward and threw her arms around Colleen.
Colleen returned her embrace with enthusiasm. “Congratulations, Bree. We’re so proud of you.”
After introductions to the guest of honor, Maggie became engrossed in a lively conversation with Brianna and Colleen. Looking past them, Gabe scanned the room for another glimpse of the golden-haired girl he’d spied across the way.
Disappointment slid through him when he couldn’t locate her. Perhaps she’d been a figment of his imagination. He shook his head to clear his foolish imaginings.
The crowd shifted, and Gabe found himself standing alone. He used the opportunity to slip out the French doors onto the stone terrace. Once outside, he inhaled the fragrant night air, scented with flowers from the garden below. Here, with room to breathe, the invisible fingers of tension began to fade away.
He crossed to the stone balustrade and stared over the grounds below. How his mother would love the multitude of flowers blooming in Kathleen’s garden. He wished that she’d been well enough to make the ocean voyage with them.
Gabe pushed back thoughts of home and walked the length of the balcony, suddenly desiring a stroll among the greenery. He descended the shallow steps to the garden path and continued along the winding trail, drinking in the wonderful scents. In the dimming light of dusk, the colors appeared muted. He’d love to return in the daytime to see the blooms in all their vibrancy.
A loud crack split the silence, bringing Gabe up short.
“Take your hand off me this instant.”
There was no mistaking a woman’s distress. He rounded the corner to find a man and woman engaged in a struggle. The man had his hand wrapped around the girl’s arm, an angry red welt marring his cheek.
The woman’s back was to Gabe, leaving him unable to ascertain her facial expression. He didn’t relish the idea of intruding on a lover’s quarrel; nevertheless, he couldn’t leave without ensuring her safety.
Seemingly oblivious of Gabe’s presence, the man glared at the girl. “What did you think I intended when I invited you out here? Intellectual conversation?”
She struggled against his grip. “I took you at your word. That you wanted a stroll in the garden.”
“No one could be that naïve.”
Gabe stepped out of the shadows. “Excuse me. Is there a problem here?”
The man’s head whipped up. “A simple misunderstanding,” he snapped. “None of your concern.”
Gabe turned his attention to the woman and had to fight not to gape. It was the girl he’d seen inside earlier. Her porcelain skin showcased wide, slightly fearful eyes and perfectly bowed lips. Hair of the palest yellow sat in a halo of curls around her head. Gabe swallowed in an attempt to unstick his tongue. “Are you in need of assistance, miss?”
The man dragged her along the path. “She is not.”
“Yes, I am. This man is accosting me.”
The note of panic in her voice aroused Gabe’s protective reflexes. “You will let her go immediately.”
The man stopped. “Or what?”
“Or I will make you,” Gabe said calmly.
The man sneered, scanning Gabe from head to toe. “You think I’m afraid of an Irish dandy?”
With considerable effort, Gabe held on to his temper. The man was clearly trying to gain the upper hand with insults, but Gabe refused to give him the satisfaction. “You still haven’t removed your hand from the lady’s arm.”
The man gave a low growl and lunged at Gabe, who neatly sidestepped him, sending him sprawling into a nearby bush.
Gabe moved back to the girl, who stood rubbing her arm. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Her eyes widened. “Watch out behind you.”
Gabe whirled, but not in time to avoid the man’s fist, which plowed into Gabe’s jaw. An explosion of pain radiated through his cheek as he reeled backward. Gabe shook his head, regained his footing, and charged forward. As much as he’d hoped to avoid a physical set-to, it seemed this oaf needed further persuasion to leave the girl alone. Thankful for his firefighter training that kept him in good condition, Gabe ducked under another attempted punch. Then, in one swift movement, he hauled the fellow over his shoulder and, spying a water fountain a few feet away, strode over to dump the lout into the shallow pool.
“Cool off in there awhile, and maybe next time you’ll respect a lady’s wishes.”
The man sputtered and thrashed in an attempt to right himself.
Gabe returned to the girl. “I’d best escort you inside before he comes after us again.” He held out his arm to her.
She nodded and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. Together they made their way to the back terrace. At the French doors where Gabe had exited, he paused. The girl’s slender hand trembled on his arm. He glanced down, trying to ascertain her emotional state.
“Do you want to go inside? Or is there someone I can get for you?” As much as Gabe wanted to be the one to help her, he realized he was a stranger to her.
She shook her head. “I can’t face my father right now.”
The sight of tears standing in her startling blue eyes made Gabe’s stomach muscles clench. “Tell me what to do. Just please don’t cry.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She dabbed it against her cheek and sniffed, then gestured to a bench farther down the terrace. “Could we sit for a minute? I don’t think Jared will come back, now that he’s drenched. He’s too vain to be seen in such a state.”
Gabe escorted her over to the bench. “This Jared, is he a suitor of yours?”
She took a seat, arranging her pale blue skirts around her. A frown formed tiny ridges between her brows. “No. Just a family acquaintance. Though my father would be happy if he were a suitor.”
“Why is that?” Gabe couldn’t imagine any father wanting a man like that for his daughter.
“Papa wishes to marry me off. He insists on introducing me to potential husbands whenever the occasion arises.”
The sorrow in her tone and the slump of her shoulders made Gabe wish he could sweep away all her problems. “Why would he be needing to marry you off? I can’t see how you’d have trouble finding a husband. Unless you’ve got
an extra leg hidden under your skirt.”
Her mouth gaped open. Then, just as Gabe had hoped, she threw her head back and laughed. The sound lightened his heart.
“No extra leg, I promise.”
“Whew, that’s good to know.” He grinned at her. “My name is Gabriel Montgomery, by the way.”
“Aurora Hastings.”
He looked into her eyes. “Aurora. A fitting name for one who lights up the room like the sun.”
Aurora stared at the handsome Irishman sitting beside her. If any other man had paid her such an outrageous compliment, he’d have sounded foolish. But coming from him, the words made her heart tap dance in her chest.
A rosy hue infused his cheeks. “Forgive me. I’ve no right to speak to you like that.”
“I don’t mind,” she said softly. “I like the way you talk. Did you come to America recently?”
“Aye. A couple of weeks ago. I’m here with my sister, Maggie. We’re visiting our brother Rylan for the summer.”
Aurora blinked. “Rylan Montgomery?”
“That’s right. Do you know Rylan?”
“I do. He’s doing admirable work with the orphans.” A blush heated her cheeks. “I volunteer at St. Rita’s whenever I can.”
“I’m glad my brother places so high in your estimation.” Gabriel grinned, his teeth flashing white in the glow from the interior. “But wait until you meet my sister. She’s more stubborn than our mule back home, as the rest of my brothers can attest.”
Aurora laughed, deciding there was no need to mention meeting Maggie at a suffrage gathering. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Three. Tommy, Paddy, and Rylan. Maggie is the youngest. She’s had to endure us all constantly trying to protect her.”
Aurora gave a soft sigh. “I always wished I had brothers and sisters. I used to envy my friends fighting with their siblings.”
He cocked his head, still holding her gaze. “An only child?”
“Yes. Which is another reason why my father is so . . . controlling.”
“I see. Well, clearly he has terrible taste in suitors, if Jared is anything to go by.”
She shook her head. “Jared is not the only ill-suited man my father has paired me with. But that’s a story for another time.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “As much as I’m enjoying our talk, I should go back inside.” With reluctance, she rose from the bench.
Gabe stood with her.
“I don’t think I thanked you for helping me.” She frowned and pointed at his jaw. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“That little punch? Hardly noticed it.”
She bit her lip to keep back a giggle. Ladies did not giggle, as Papa so often admonished her.
Gabe took her hand and bent to kiss it. Flutters vibrated in her stomach.
“It was lovely to meet you, Aurora. I hope I’ll see you again.”
Aurora’s breath swirled in her strangled lungs. “I hope so, too.”
As he escorted her back into the noisy parlor, Aurora gave herself a mental shake. No point in getting foolish notions about a man who lived an ocean away.
Her future was here in New York. And if things continued in a favorable way, it might include a relationship with a handsome doctor who shared her passion for medicine.
A solid, dependable man. Not a charming Irish rogue.
Her life had no place for a man like that.
6
AFTER MAKING SURE all the horses had been fed and watered and had clean straw in their stalls, Adam made his way to Sam’s workshop. Knowing he’d never sleep a wink while the party went on without him, Adam planned to soothe his wounded pride by working on a chest he’d started. Sam had been kind enough to supply the materials, giving him a quick refresher course in the finer aspects of furniture-making. It hadn’t taken long for Adam’s fingers to remember the feel of the wood or the ease of the lathe in his hand.
When footsteps sounded in the corridor some time later, Adam lifted his head from his work. Sam must be up late tonight. Or perhaps he couldn’t sleep, either. The door to the workshop creaked open. Adam froze, and the sand block slipped from his fingers.
Miss Montgomery stood in the opening, a vision in green silk, her dark hair arranged in a fancy upsweep with several enticing strands left to curl over her shoulders.
When her eyes met his, her mouth fell open. “You’re the man from the orphanage. What are you doing here?”
Adam brushed the sawdust from his hands as he attempted to recover his equilibrium. “I work here.” He came around the table toward her but halted at the wariness in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I caused you any concern. I heard the children’s laughter and couldn’t help watching them play for a minute.”
She squinted at him. “Perhaps I overreacted. But you did look like a tramp with all that long hair.”
He smothered a laugh. “Good thing I’ve since had a haircut.”
She grinned at him, visibly relaxing. “A big improvement, to be sure.”
He leaned a hip against the bench. “What are you doing here—in the barn, I mean?”
She flushed as she lifted her chin. “I came to see the horses. The guests were praising the quality of Mr. O’Leary’s animals, but to be frank, they seem rather ordinary to me.”
With effort, he kept his lips from twitching. “That’s because these are the work horses. The thoroughbreds are kept in the main stables.”
Her eyes widened. “The building to the left?”
“That’s the one.”
She threw out her hands. “I can’t believe they have a place so luxurious for animals. Back home in Cork, it would be a palace fit for a king.”
Adam couldn’t tear his gaze from this charming creature. Her guileless honesty was a refreshing change from the girls he’d met over the years—all trying to impress him with their looks or their family’s wealth.
“You’re from Ireland, then?”
“Aye. Visiting my brother. My name’s Maggie Montgomery.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Adam.” No need to divulge his surname. He could be an anonymous stable hand to her. A man with no shameful past, no criminal record. “And is the party not to your liking?” He moved closer in measured steps, as though approaching a skittish filly, afraid to scare this rare woman away.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “It’s grand, of course, but I’m afraid I’m not used to so many people. I needed a little . . . breathing room.” She glanced around him to the table where he’d been sanding. “Are you a woodworker?”
“I do this as a hobby in my spare time.” He paused, hesitating to answer. “I’m . . . a stable hand.” He waited for her demeanor to change, for her to distance herself from him. But instead she came closer, her face awash with curiosity.
He pointed to the ground. “You might want to mind your dress. It’s dirty in here.”
She glanced down at her feet then, where the hem of her skirt brushed the sawdust on the floor. “Aye. If it were my own dress, I wouldn’t mind, but I borrowed this from my sister-in-law.” A look of regret shadowed her features. “I suppose I should be getting back . . .”
“Would you like to see the horses before you go?” What mad impulse made him offer that? He should stay as far away from Maggie Montgomery as possible. For her own good, if nothing else.
Her eyes, the color of gray heather, brightened, and a smile created enticing dimples in each cheek. “I’d love to.”
Adam untied the work apron from his waist and placed it on the bench. “Allow me to escort you.” He held out his arm for her.
Her light laugh trilled over the room. “You don’t strike me as a stable hand. Have you always worked with horses?”
The irony of that question burned in Adam’s chest. Three years ago, he’d abhorred everything to do with horses. Now he was their caretaker. “I was raised with them.”
“How lucky for you. I’ve always wanted my own horse. The closest I came was a donkey named Tige
r. He pulls our cart when we go into town to shop.”
Adam guided her out the side door that led to the main stables. “You said you were visiting a brother. Do you have a lot of family in America?”
“Only Rylan. Another brother, Gabe, came with me. My two oldest brothers, Tommy and Paddy, are married with families back home. They’re taking care of my mum while we’re here.”
Adam found he could listen to this girl’s lilt forever and never tire of it.
They reached the main stables, and Adam held the door open for her to enter. He flicked the switch and the electric lights came on to illuminate the space.
Beside him, Maggie gasped. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely. You must be excited to work here every day.”
“It’s a living.”
She gaped at him as though he’d sprouted horns, then her look of incredulity softened. “Ah, I see the problem.”
“You do?”
She nodded, studying him. “Your true love is furniture-making, not horses, and you’d rather be doing that.”
Adam stopped dead in the center of the corridor. In the few minutes she’d known him, Maggie Montgomery had pegged the very core of his conflict with his father. James O’Leary could never accept the fact that his son didn’t share his passion for horses. Woodworking was for lower-class, working citizens. Not the heir to Irish Meadows.
“You are a very wise woman, Maggie.”
“So my brothers often tell me.” She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Adam. If you give it time, I’m sure you’ll eventually get to do what you love best.”
“I hope you’re right.” He forced his feet to move forward. “Allow me to show you the number one horse in the stable. One that recently won the Kentucky Derby.”
“I’d love to.” She took his arm again, but before they reached the mahogany-and-brass enclosures, the main door burst open.
Adam swiveled to see who would be entering at this hour, and his stomach sank to his work boots. His father’s scowling face blotted out everything else.
“What in tarnation is going on here?”
A Worthy Heart Page 6