He slipped from the kitchen, his boot heels sounding in the silent room as he left by the back door, while the large family stared after him in dumbfounded wonder.
* * *
After only a few moments, an incessant chattering began, as small groups of family members murmured to each other. Maggie sat alone, as though an island amid her beloved family, unwilling to speculate on Dunmore’s erratic behavior.
Her mum, who sat beside her, lowered her hand to grip Maggie’s, giving it a squeeze in silent support. That small show of solidarity was nearly her undoing, as she needed to remain strong during the rest of supper. She hoped to fall to pieces after she was alone in the privacy of her bedroom.
“Someone clearly said something to make him believe he wasn’t welcome,” Declan said, his arm slung over Lorena’s shoulder. He was as tall and as strong as his father, and he looked much like him, with striking blue eyes and black hair. However, he had allowed his hair to grow again, and it was tied back, while his beard was neatly trimmed. He teased his wife that he looked like a scholarly backwoodsman now.
Maggie cast a furtive glance around the table. Before tonight, seeing her siblings with their spouses, glowing with contentment from their happy marriages, had given her hope for her future. For she had believed that, one day soon, she would be married to Dunmore and that they too would be at this table, sharing a meal and laughter with her family. Now she knew that would never be a reality. She would forever sit beside her mum and yearn.
“Men have every right to be fickle,” Maggie said in a low voice.
“Fickle?” Kevin said, as he scratched at his head and shook it. “Nay, Dun’s the least fickle man I’ve ever known. He’s always known what he wanted and is a patient man.” He looked at Maggie, as though she must be the source for the discord.
Another long moment of uncomfortable silence followed, as the family pondered Dunmore’s inconsistent actions, yet Maggie refused to say anything, all while their stew congealed in their bowls.
Lorena cleared her throat. “I saw someone today.” At her sister, Phoebe’s, tense expression, Lorena smiled. “No, not her. Mr. A.J. is back.”
Exclamations of joy erupted, as the captain was a favorite, and they had hoped Captain A. J. Pickens would return this season. He had said he would consider it, when he had departed last August. Now it appeared he had decided to return.
“Wonderful!” Seamus said, with a beaming smile. “I wonder what news he’ll bring us.”
Lorena fidgeted, and everyone focused on her, a fact Maggie was thankful for. It allowed her to attempt to compose herself after the devastation of Dunmore’s presence in her family’s home. Maggie clenched her hands together, as she focused on her sister-in-law.
“I sought him out,” she whispered, as she cast a furtive glance in her husband’s direction. “I … I know that was wrong of me, but I had to speak with him.”
Declan ran a hand over her cheek, soothing the anxiety there. “What is it, love? I would have supported you and gone with you.”
She closed her eyes, speaking in a low voice. “I know I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help it. I had to see, … to know if she was all right. To determine if he had any news.”
Finn—an O’Rourke brother in his early twenties, called one of the twins because he and his older brother Eamon looked and acted so much alike—froze. “Winnifred,” he breathed.
“Yes.” Lorena nodded to emphasize her point, as grumbles and swallowed swears sounded. “I know she’s despised by the O’Rourkes—and with reason. She almost killed me, ruined my business, and would have done any number of horrible things. But she’s still my baby sister. I had to know.”
“Of course you did, lass,” Seamus said. “Family is family, even if we don’t always get along. Don’t feel guilty for bein’ loyal.”
“And?” Finn asked, his blue eyes intense, as he pushed back strands of long black hair, his shoulders bunched with anticipation of what she would say.
Lorena met his gaze with sorrow and embarrassment. “I fear it is as we knew it would be. She’s found a benefactor.”
Finn let out a huge sigh and bent forward, as he stared at the table. “’Tis as she always said. She’d not be alone for long.” He rose, striding from the room, the back door slamming behind him.
When Eamon rose to race after him, Seamus shook his head. “Leave him be. Some wounds we must tend to alone.”
Mary shared a long look with her husband, as she sat beside her miserable daughter. “Aye, an’ some wounds are inflicted due to another’s best intentions.”
* * *
“Seamus, how could you?” Mary hissed, as she slammed shut their bedroom door. “How could you do that to our daughter?”
Seamus sighed, as he sat on their bed, his head in his hands. “You don’t know what it did, Mary, seein’ wee Maggie in his arms.” He jerked as she hit his shoulder, his gaze meeting her irate glower.
“I understand well enough. She’s our babe. The last child we had together, and knowin’ she’s growin’ up, old enough to have babes of her own …” Mary’s lip quivered, as she battled her deep emotions. “We have no right, Shay, to cling to her in an attempt to recover lost time. No right.”
He heaved out a deep breath, his shoulders stooped. “Do you know what I see when I look at her?” He spoke as though in a trance. “I see my wee babe Maggie. A babe I never got to see grow. I missed her first tooth, her babblin’ attempts at speakin’. Her callin’ me Da and you Mum, and sayin’ no over an’ over again to the point we thought we’d go mad.” He sniffled. “I missed watchin’ her race after her brothers, intent on never missin’ out on the adventures they were havin’.” He swiped at his cheeks. “I never kissed her bruises or washed her scrapes. I did none of that, Mary.”
“Oh, my love,” Mary whispered, as she sat beside him. “Do you think it isn’t the same for me with our lads?” She stared at him, as tears fell unabashedly down her cheeks. “I had Maggie, aye, but you had six of them. I missed out on everything with them.” She shook her head. “’Tisn’t a competition over who suffered most, darling.”
She moved so she knelt in front of him, cupping his face, as she kissed him tenderly. “We all suffered. Every day, until we were reunited. You’ve loved us with a devoted abandon. Don’t stop now. I couldn’t bear it if you stopped now.”
Seamus looked at her, torment and shame paramount in his gaze. “I’ve not known how to tell you what I did. What I made Dunmore promise. I knew it wasn’t right. From the moment I asked it of him.” He closed his eyes. “’Tis why I never spoke of it to Maggie. I feared how she’d look at me.”
Mary’s fingers tightened on his cheeks, until he dared to look into her eyes again. “Believe in your daughter’s love, Shay. She will forgive you.” Mary took a deep breath. “Be the brave man who I know you are. The brave man who you’ve always been. Take pride in the fact she’s chosen such a worthy man.” After a moment, when Seamus remained silent, Mary said, with a hint of disappointment in her tone, “Don’t be like my da.”
He jerked, as though she had wounded him. “’Tisn’t fair, Mary.” His blue eyes were filled with righteous indignation. When she met his anger with calm patience, it evaporated. “I remember bein’ so angry at him, and now I’ve done the same thing.”
“Not truly,” Mary whispered, as she rose. She paused, as he wrapped his arms around her belly, tugging her forward to hug her, his face buried against her middle. “My da merely wanted to see if you were a strong-enough man for his daughter. You passed that test.”
“Aye, I’m acting like a miserly bastard, who clings to his daughter and destroys her happiness because he wants more time with her.” His hold on Mary tightened. “I’m sorry.”
Arching over him, she kissed his head. “Apologize to Maggie. Make it right between her and Dunmore, and all will be forgiven.”
“Will you forgive me?” He peered up at her, fear and hope in his gaze. “Do you still love me?”
“Oh, a chuisle,” Mary breathed, her hands cupping his face, as her hazel eyes filled with love. She traced away a tear on his cheek, as he heard her call him my heartbeat in Gaelic. “Of course I love you. Nothing you could do could stop me from lovin’ you, Shay.” She smiled at him. “And I will forgive you.”
As he turned, tumbling her to their bed, Mary shrieked. Laughing, she ran her hands through his thick hair, before tracing her fingers over his face. “I love you as I never knew I could love, Shay.” She gasped, as he kissed her. “Make me forget ever bein’ parted from you.”
* * *
Maggie heard her mother’s shriek and giggle, and she fought a bitter resentment that she would never share such happiness with Dunmore. For she knew, deep inside, if she wasn’t with Dunmore, that she wouldn’t want to be with any other man. She knew her family would say that she was being melodramatic and emotional. However, she had seen how Cormac had waited and had pined over her sister, Niamh. Maggie suspected she would act in the same manner, as she wished for Dunmore’s love.
She flopped onto her side, punching at her pillow, as she battled the vision of an older version of herself, standing on the kitchen stoop, waiting for Dunmore. Smiling impersonally as he arrived to eat another family dinner, while he stared at her with aloof disinterest.
Tonight’s dinner had been absolute torture. Rather than the teasing looks, Dunmore had refused to glance in her direction. Rather than accidentally brushing his hand over hers as he reached for the salt or butter, he had sat far enough away from her that there was no opportunity for him to touch her. Even when he arrived, he had looked at everyone but her. It was as though she no longer existed.
When he had kissed her, he had discovered she was as passionate as a day-old fish, and now wanted nothing to do with her. She stifled a sob, as she curled into herself, unable to stop the tears from pouring out of her again. She hadn’t cried this much since Jacques had threatened her, and even then she had felt hope. Hope because she had found a new family. Or had rediscovered her own family.
Now all she felt was a soul-crushing despair. Dunmore didn’t want her. He hadn’t been as affected by their embrace as she had. He didn’t desire a future, as she did. With a stifled moan, she wrapped an arm around her waist. “Did I wait too long?” she asked herself. “Or is he only interested in the chase?” After a long moment, she whispered in a horror-struck voice, “Was it all a game, and he never cared for me?”
With these disturbing thoughts roiling through her mind, sleep remained elusive deep into the night.
Chapter 3
Seamus entered the kitchen the following morning, sighing with frustration to see the room filled with his children, as they jabbered about their upcoming day. Just once he wished for quiet and privacy. And, just as quickly, he banished that wish, as this joyous room, filled with those he loved most, was what he’d always dreamed of. Believing Mary and their babe had died in Montreal, after their arrival from Ireland, Seamus had known too many sullen meals. Too many stilted conversations. Too much quiet, as everyone attempted to forge a tenuous peace. Now there was joy, and he would only rejoice in it.
After everyone had eaten, he watched his children scurry away for their day’s work. Maggie and Mary remained in the kitchen, and he was thankful Niamh had opted to return home with her little ones. Right now, Seamus wished for as few as possible to know of his foolish action.
“Maggie,” he said in a soft voice, “my beautiful lass, come here.” He motioned for his youngest daughter to approach him and smiled with encouragement, as she sat near him in the chair Mary usually took during meals. Raising his hand, he swiped under her eye, frowning at the dark marks. “You didn’t sleep well, lass.”
Rather than jerk her head away from his soft touch, she remained motionless. “No,” she said in a soft voice. “I had much to consider, and I was unable to sleep for hours.”
“Forgive me,” Seamus said, dropped his hand to cup her cheek. “Forgive me for loving you too much and not wanting to let you go so soon.”
Maggie shook her head in confusion, causing his thumb to scrape against her cheek. “I don’t understand, Da. You could never love me too much.”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Aye, I could an’ I have. I loved you so, so that I didn’t want to share you. I was selfish.” He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, so like his, and then to her hair, red and brown and shimmering in the sunlight coming through the window. It reminded him of a younger Mary. “I’ve had so little time with you. Of all my babes, I was denied so much time with you.”
Maggie’s eyes filled. “Da, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I’d think you’d be afraid you’ll never get rid of me.”
“Oh, Maggie love,” Seamus whispered. “Forgive me.”
“I don’t understand,” Maggie said in a low voice, her gaze flitting to her mum before focusing on her father again.
Seamus took a deep breath, his gaze sober and intent, as he looked at her. “I asked Dunmore to stay away. To wait another year before you became serious about each other.”
Maggie froze at his words. Her cheeks flushed, and then she jerked away, rising as she stepped back from her father. “You what?” At his tormented nod, she ran a hand over her head and spun to the door and then spun back again, nearly twirling to the ground. Her hand shot out, gripping the back of a chair to anchor herself in a world she now felt rudderless in. “How could you?”
Seamus flinched, as though she had shrieked at him, although her question was in a low keening voice. “I have no excuse. I saw you in his arms, an’ I overreacted.”
“I love him,” Maggie whispered, tears coursing down her cheeks. “Do you know what it did to me to have him treat me as … nothing?” She held a hand to her heart. Suddenly her expression brightened. “This means he does care for me?”
At her mother’s grin, Maggie gave a whoop and spun for the door. “Da, you’re not forgiven until we’ve made up.” She raced away, the door slamming behind her.
Seamus sat, his hands shaking, as he fought to calm his racing heart. Mary pushed at the table until she could edge between it and his chair, climbing onto his lap. He banded his arms around her, holding her tight. “She’ll forgive me?”
Mary kissed his neck. “Aye, soon. Dunmore an’ she will have a little time together in the livery or away from town, an’ then she’ll be the woman we know and love. Free-spirited and full of optimism.” She kissed his head. “Forgive yourself, Seamus, for being human.”
He groaned, holding her tightly to him, as the quiet house settled around them.
* * *
Maggie ran from her home to the livery, determined to confront Dunmore. To make him admit that what had been blooming between them wasn’t merely a figment of her imagination. She was irate he would allow her father’s wishes to dictate how he would interact with her, but all she wanted was to have him look at her with the love and devotion she was accustomed to seeing in his gaze.
Her gait hitched, as she thought of the word love. She had suspected for a few years that Dunmore loved her. She knew he had esteemed her, as her brothers did their wives. Until today she had been unwilling to name that emotion. However, now that she had suffered through believing his affection for her had changed, she knew she needed him to admit what he felt.
With a deep breath, she stepped inside the livery. Promising herself she would be as equally honest, she approached his horses, smiling as they nickered at her. After she scratched behind their ears and ran her fingers down their snouts, she turned to seek him out. Usually he approached every time she was with his horses.
She poked her head into the tack room, pasting on a smile as she saw the livery owner, Mr. Harrison, reading one of the five-and-dime novels that her sister-in-law, Lorena, sold at her store. “Excuse me, sir.” She waited until he set down the book and peered at her over his spectacles. “Could you tell me where Mr. Dunmore is?”
“Dunmore?” he as
ked, glancing with longing at his book. “Why, he left this morning.” He opened his book again, as though nothing more were to be said.
“He couldn’t have.” Maggie fought panic, as she felt her impersonal smile fade. “His horses are out there.” She waved to the stables.
“Ain’t no law sayin’ a man can’t use another pair of horses. Besides, he just returned yesterday. Couldn’t abuse his horses in such a way.” He stared at her in a speculative manner, and Maggie belatedly remembered how he enjoyed a good morsel of gossip, as much as the rest of the townsfolk. “Seemed as though Dun couldn’t wait to get away from this town.”
“I see,” Maggie whispered. “Thank you so much, Mr. Harrison. I hope you enjoy your book.” She stumbled away, glad when he focused on his book rather than her faltering steps. She managed to only walk far enough to be out of view, before she collapsed against a stall. “Gone,” she whispered, a hand to her heart. “He left.”
A searing anger filled her at her da’s treachery. But Dunmore? Although she attempted to understand his motive, Dunmore’s absence made it nearly impossible. Nothing would be right until Dunmore returned and understood that they didn’t have to wait a year.
She forced herself to walk from the livery, staring at the blue sky and the road leading out of town toward the bluffs that buffeted the town. She wished she could saddle a horse and race after him, although she knew that was pure folly on her part. Rubbing a hand over the ache in her chest, she turned for home, one thought paramount in her mind.
How was she to endure his absence?
* * *
Dunmore rode away from the first stage stop between Fort Benton and Helena, already regretting his hasty decision to leave town. He wished he could turn around his stagecoach and return to Maggie. To explain to her why they’d suffered through that miserable dinner the previous night. Although he would break his promise to Seamus, he knew it would be worth it to ease the torment he’d seen in Maggie’s gaze. He hoped to never see her suffer like that again.
Pioneer Devotion: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Six Page 3