Pioneer Devotion: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Six
Page 11
“I have this sense that if I sit here, long enough, she’ll return. She’ll appear, and I’ll hold her in my arms and ease her of any of the”—her voice broke—“atrocities done to her.”
“Love,” Seamus choked, as he pressed his face into her neck.
“Promise me,” Mary whispered in a tear-choked voice, tinged with rage and the deepest sorrow. “Promise me you’ll not turn against her for things done against her will.”
Seamus froze at her words. “A ghrá.” He took deep gulping breaths, his hand digging into her side. “How can you ask me that?” He spun, so he gazed deeply into her devastated gaze, blanching at the terror he saw. Cupping her face, he held her cheeks, as though they were more delicate than eggshells.
A profound silence enveloped them, as he stared at her. A neighbor slammed a door; another yelled profanities, and men on a nearby street laughed like idiots. Through it all, Seamus remained focused on Mary. “What must I do for you to fully trust me?”
She shivered and closed her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she said in a barely audible voice. “To have no say.”
A tear coursed down Seamus’s cheek, as a soul-deep sorrow filled his gaze. “I failed you, my love. I’m so sorry.” He nodded, as she stared at him in confusion. “If I were more capable, a trapper or a tracker, I would have found a way to find him and to make him pay. To prevent our precious Maggie from having to spend more than a few hours with him.” Another tear tracked down his cheek. “I don’t have that ability. I couldn’t find her.”
He paused, his voice raspy, as he battled rage and tears. “There was no one in town to pay to lead me out into the wild. I would have given such a man everything I had. But no such man was in town.” His hands shook.
“Cormac was willin’ to search, but he didn’t need to worry about me as he did. And Ardan was right that I needed to remain here with you and our lads.” He closed his eyes as a sense of impotent sorrow filled him. More tears fell. “I had no way to find her. To save her from him. I’ve never felt so useless. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Shay,” she cried, her hands rising to grip his arms. She tilted her face to kiss one of his palms. “That’s not your fault. I know you. I know the man you are. You did everything you could to find our Maggie.”
His gaze shone with pain. “If you know me, Mary, then you’d never have asked me that.”
A sob burst forth, and she fell into his arms. “I’m sorry. I know you’ll love her, no matter what he’s done. I’m so afraid, Shay. I’m terrified he’ll have destroyed a part of her that will never be restored.”
Seamus shuddered at her words, battling a similar fear. He closed his eyes, kissing the top of her head, as his hands stroked over her. “Our Maggie’s strong. We’ll love her and support her, until she never has any doubts. No matter what has happened to her.” He held Mary for a long moment, staring at the distant moon. “Come, my love. Let me hold you, as we try to sleep.” He kissed her head again, easing her up and inside. “And we will pray each morning and every night that our wee Maggie is returned to us, unharmed.”
* * *
Two days later, Declan continued his vigil beside his wife’s sickbed. As Maggie was “away,” he wanted to be in his parents’ house, where there was always another pair of hands to help. Thus, he had agreed for Lorena to continue to be tended to in Maggie’s room. He grimaced at thinking of Maggie as “away.” As though she were on a vacation. Pushing thoughts of what could have befallen his sister out of his mind, he focused on his wife.
Brushing aside tendrils of her red hair, he ran the backs of his fingers over her ashen cheek. “Come, love. Wake for me. Talk with me again. Tell me what a fool I am to prefer The House of the Seven Gables to Jane Eyre.” He continued to speak with her and then rose, pulling a book from a bag he had hastily thrown together, when he ran home the previous day for a few moments. “I’ll read it to you now, and let’s see if you can find any more merit in it on your second reading.”
He settled in beside her, reading aloud, his deep voice soothing and melodious. A few hours later, he looked up to find Aileen staring at him. He jolted for a moment, as he had expected Maggie, and then he flushed, as he belatedly recalled what had occurred. “Aileen,” he whispered, his voice raspy from reading aloud for so long. “I didn’t see you there.”
Her sad smile was filled with understanding. “You expected Maggie.” When he flushed, she nodded. “I understand, and I’m not offended. Come. Go downstairs and have a bite to eat. Mum is worried about you.” She had been so readily accepted into the family that she never failed to call Mary Mum. “I’ll sit with Lorena the entire time. Read to her, if you want.”
Declan stiffened at the thought.
“Or I can tell her the latest gossip, and you can continue to read to her when you return.” Seeing the relief in his gaze, she tugged at his arm, urging him to rise. “Go. Take a few moments for yourself.”
Declan kissed Lorena on her head, whispering, “I love you, my darling. I’ll be back soon.” He trudged downstairs, yawning widely. Although he had a bed in the room where Lorena convalesced in, he missed holding her in his arms. Nothing was right, without her in his arms.
He entered the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea, moving to the back door to stare absently outside. Although it was a brilliant, gorgeous summer day, he failed to see any beauty. All he saw was Lorena, lying unconscious upstairs. Pale and ashen.
After slurping a sip of tea, he set it aside and stormed from the house, walking in the direction of the warehouse. “Kev.” He nodded, when Kevin sighed. “’Tis time.”
“Aye,” Kevin said, setting aside the book he was reading. “Let’s get Ardan.” He murmured his assent, when Niall insisted on joining them. After leaving Niall at the café to take orders and to serve patrons—an act of brotherly betrayal, according to Niall—Ardan, Kevin, and Declan headed in the direction of the Daybreak Saloon.
“Bell!” Declan bellowed upon entering. He squinted, as he waited for his eyes to adjust. While waiting for the proprietor of one of the most disreputable saloons in Fort Benton to approach him, Declan noted the number of men eyeing him and his brothers speculatively. A few leaned against the bar, while a few had a hip hitched against a wall.
In the back, men played poker, while a half dozen scantily clad women circulated. They feigned delight when a patron flirted with them, only pausing when a coin was proffered. Focusing again on the men eyeing him, Declan knew the Daybreak patrons to be the roughest in Fort Benton. With a sigh of relief, he noted the arrival of Da, Finn, Eamon, and A.J.
“You shouldn’t go stormin’ off without your army, sonny,” A.J. muttered. “Especially when ye’re enterin’ a hornet’s nest.”
Declan gave a quick nod, although his gaze never faltered from the lumbering giant of a man coming down the stairs and approaching him. At well over six feet tall, with muscles that rippled underneath his form-fitting shirt, Bell was not a man to goad. “Where is he?” Declan asked.
“Who?” Bell asked, standing with his legs spread wide, his arms over his burly chest. “I don’t owe you nothin’, O’Rourke.”
Seamus stepped up to stand beside his son. “Nay, you owe me.” He stood tall, and, although he wasn’t as muscular as Bell, he had as commanding a presence. “If you don’t cooperate, you’ll never get another drop of decent whiskey. I guarantee it.”
“That’s highway robbery! You won’t even sell us the good stuff, savin’ it all for yourself,” Bell gasped, before he fisted his hands and squared his shoulders. “You can’t prevent me from buying it from another source.”
“Cross me at your peril.” Seamus’s blue eyes gleamed with malice, as his sons stood in a solid wall of support behind him.
A.J. smiled smugly. Although numerous steamboats traveled up the Missouri River every year, few local residents and businessmen had the means to pay the freight for a large number of goods in advance, like Seamus O’Rourke. When more men arrived than e
xpected, many businesses had to rely on Seamus to replenish their supplies or risk losing customers during the year’s only busy season.
As the only major mercantile in town, Seamus exerted a tremendous influence over who received supplies and at what cost. Generally he was fair, generous, and willing to enter into business with everyone in town. “I continued to sell you goods, when you failed to order what you needed for your growing business.”
“At exorbitant rates!” Bell snapped. When Seamus shrugged, Bell swore.
“You hurt my family,” Seamus said, as though that simple reason explained why Bell had to pay three to four times the normal rate for whiskey sold to other saloons.
Taking a step toward Seamus, Bell hissed. “Won’t you ever forget that?”
Slapping a hand on Eamon’s shoulder, as his son flushed red and approached the big man, Seamus shook his head. “Never. You hurt us, and we’ll never forget.” He tilted his head in Eamon’s direction. “You harmed his wife, Bell. One of my daughters,” he said, for he considered every woman married to one of his sons a daughter. Seamus waited for Bell to back up a step, satisfied when the larger man relented and stepped back a pace.
“Chaffee,” Declan said in a lethally cold voice.
Bell turned his focus to Declan. “Another wronged husband.” He sighed. “What did I do to earn the misfortune to partner myself with such a man as Chaffee?” Rubbing at his head, he shrugged. “I don’t know where he went. He disappeared the same day your wife was stolen.”
“Lies,” Declan hissed, stepping forward, only stilling when Ardan and Kevin gripped his shoulders.
Shaking his head, Bell ran a hand over his jaw, his gaze flashing in anger at being called a liar. “No, I’m tellin’ the truth. The man disappeared. Took all the money from the safe too.” He smiled evilly. “I’ll be only too happy to see him again, when he returns to town.”
Declan stared long and hard at the owner of the Daybreak, before giving a terse nod. “Consider this a good day, Bell. Next time won’t be.” He spun on his heels, his family behind him. Marching away from the saloon, he returned to the warehouse, where he knew they would have privacy. A few moments after entering, he howled like a wounded animal and threw a piece of wood across the room. Declan glanced up; his father watched him with patient understanding.
“’Tis all right, Dec. Get it out before you return to sit beside your Lorena.”
Declan took a deep breath and then another, as he attempted to control his rage. “I want to pummel someone, but he’s not here. There’s no one to punish.” He let out a stuttering breath, as each brother approached and embraced him. “What am I to do?” he asked, as he collapsed onto a crate.
A.J. approached and squeezed his shoulder. “What you are doin’, sonny. Continue to sit beside your wife. Read to her. Reassure her that she ain’t alone. If I was knocked plumb out of my head, an’ a sound reached me here an’ there, I can’t imagine anything sweeter than my dear Bessie’s voice.”
Declan nodded, rubbing at his temples. “Thanks, A.J.” He sat here for a few more moments, before he rose to return to his vigil by his wife’s bedside, praying she would wake and would return to him.
Chapter 8
Tumbling to her knees, after Jacques had freed her from the horse, Maggie swayed in place. Although the sight of the river gave her some hope, she was so sore from the beatings, she didn’t have the energy to breathe, much less rise and wash in the river. What did it matter? She looked a sight after days traveling with Jacques.
Although she knew he was purported to be one of the best backwoodsmen to ever roam the Territory and much of the Canadian West, it had seemed to her that they were wandering in circles the past few days. Finally today, they were making camp next to a river, and the cool air soothed her, after the long hours under the hot sun.
When he dropped the saddles onto the ground, she jumped. Maggie knew she had a few more minutes before her abuse would begin again, and she didn’t know how she would survive another night of his fists and his kicks. With any luck, she would faint after the first or second blow.
Finally she gathered all of her strength and moved a short distance away for a few moments of privacy. She was so weak from the beatings and her hunger that she had stopped even considering her escape. Without a horse, she wouldn’t last a day on the prairie.
After taking a few sips of water, she scrubbed at her neck and face. Her wrists were raw from where they had been bound for days, and she dreamed of her ointments and poultices at her home. She refused to think about her family and all she was missing. She feared she would lose whatever courage remained and would curl up in a ball, eager for death’s embrace, as she dreamed of her family. Of Dunmore.
Instead she focused on this moment. On cataloging everything that hurt. She had so many bruises, aches, and pains that she could usually pass an hour or two considering every agony.
As a hand reached out and grabbed her by her long hair, she screamed. Scrambling to her feet, Maggie stood on her toes. “No, please,” she gasped, as she saw the lascivious gleam in Jacques’s gaze.
“Do you think me such an idiot that I don’t understand what you do, mon petite chou?” He shook her, earning a wail, as she had little strength to fight back or to stand on her toes.
“Please, Jacques,” Maggie gasped.
“Ah, I like it when you beg, non?” His mouth curved up into an evil smile, as he stared at her. His free hand roved over her body, cupping one breast. “Are you still mine, ma chérie? Or have you defiled yourself with that vulgar beast of a man who loves horses more than you?”
Maggie quaked in his hold, her gaze imploring him to release her. “Please, Jacques. You don’t want to do this.”
He chuckled and licked his lips. “Ah, you do not know how long I’ve waited. Ever since your family tricked me to leave town with a strumpet rather than you, I’ve burned for you.” His fetid breath wafted over her. “I know you’ve felt the same.”
“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking out with a leg. She gasped with pain as her toe connected with his boot. “Please. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Maggie. I very much want you to suffer, as I suffered without you.” He released her with such alacrity that she crumpled to the ground. Any momentary relief was banished, when he pounced on top of her.
“No!” Maggie screamed, pushing at his shoulders. “No!” She battled tears, as the sound of his wicked laughter echoed around them.
* * *
Aileen sat in the small cabin she shared with Kevin, lost in thought, as she rocked in front of the potbellied stove. She stretched her feet out to warm them, before pulling them back under the small blanket she had thrown over her lap. Ever since Declan had returned with an injured Lorena and Seamus had returned without Maggie, Aileen had felt out of sorts.
Kevin had been preoccupied, helping at the warehouse and also ensuring his brothers and his da didn’t go mad with worry. He’d been focused on others and paying little attention to her, although he held her close every night, whispering his thanks that she was well and safe in his arms.
With a sigh, Aileen silently berated herself for her selfishness. Even though she knew she should be thinking about her ailing and missing family members, she couldn’t help focusing on herself during her time alone. With a sigh, she held a hand over her waist, battling tears.
When the door opened, she turned to ensure it was Kevin entering. She relaxed when he smiled at her, although no joy filled his eyes. Aileen knew he was scared nearly to death for Maggie, and the longer it took for Lorena to awaken, the less likely it was she’d recover. Aileen didn’t know what would happen should the O’Rourkes lose two family members.
“Love?” Kevin murmured, as he approached and kissed her head. “Why the tears?”
“I’m being selfish,” she whispered. At his murmur of protest, she reached up and grasped his hand, tugging, so he sat in his chair beside her. “I started my courses
today. Another month …” She ducked her head in shame.
“Another month for me to give thanks I have you in my arms every night. Another month for me to rejoice I can kiss you each mornin’. Another month for me to exalt at the way my heart skips a beat when you smile at me.” He paused, as he traced a finger down her neck. “Although you don’t smile as much as you used to, lass.”
“I feel such a failure,” she whispered. “All the other women can have babies. But not me.” She closed her eyes in defeat. “I’d think you’d look for another.”
He growled in frustration and anger. “Look at me, Aileen.” He waited, and, when she refused to raise her head, he tilted her head up with soft fingers under her jaw. “You are precious beyond words. You are my … everything. No language has been invented to express what you mean to me.” His hazel eyes glowed with his fervency. “Aye, I’d dote on any child we were blessed to have.” He shook his head, when she hunched her shoulders in defeat. “But do you know, I don’t care if we ever have a child?”
She gaped at him, before whispering, “What? How can you say that?”
“I am happy as long as I have you, love,” he murmured, raising her hand to kiss her fingers. “I’ve realized these past few days, as I’ve watched Declan—almost out of his mind with worry over his Lorena—and as Dunmore limps around like a caged animal, praying for Maggie’s return, that I am the luckiest of men. I have you, healthy and well. There’s nothin’ more I want in this world than that.” His gaze filled with pleading, he begged, “Believe me. Please.”
She nodded, as a tear leaked out. “I want a child so badly, Kevin,” she whispered.
He kissed her head, easing her from her rocker and onto his lap, sighing with relief to hold her in his arms. “I know, my love. I know.” He breathed in her scent, now rocking her on his lap. “If I could, I’d give you all the babes you could ever desire,” he murmured, pausing to run a hand over head and to look into her eyes. “If you want to adopt, only say the word, my love.” He kissed her head again. “Never doubt I have everything I want in my arms right now. You are, and always will be, enough.”