Colin took a big gulp from his cup. “What was the point? I was nobody and Thomas O’Donnell is a powerful man. What’s more, he was my best friend. If I destroyed him, I would destroy his family. People I loved. My own family was gone. I did what I had to do.”
“But what of his sister–the one you were engaged to?”
“She married someone else.” Colin had been hurt at the speed with which Colleen had married but now he realized it was his pride that had been hurt, not his heart. He had never felt the way about Colleen that he now felt for Cara. Colleen may have set his pulse racing but at that age, any girl could have achieved the same result.
If he were honest, he’d found Colleen rather boring. All she was interested in was what dress she was wearing, how she looked and what society thought of her. She’d wanted him to become an eminent surgeon. Cara, on the other hand, was intelligent. She could hold a conversation and didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about the latest fashions in Paris. She was honest and trustworthy, wore her heart on her sleeve and…
“So you ain't had any contact with the family since and now his baby sister has turned up to marry you?” Mick asked his question, dragging Colin back to the kitchen and the conversation.
“That’s about the sum total of it,” he confirmed rather shortly.
“What a mess,” Mick said.
“That’s an understatement if ever I heard one,” Cookie remarked.
“You will just have to send her back,” Mick said, standing up to collect the coffee cups.
“Can’t do that. He has to marry her.”
“What?” Both Mick and Colin responded to Cookie’s declaration.
“You can’t let her go back to Boston, can ye? She tells O’Donnell and he’ll have the law on you. You know that just as sure as I do. Ain’t nobody going to believe us now. Too many years gone by. We should have come forward before.”
“Don’t you think I know that, Cookie? But who would they have believed, the drunk or the drug addict?” Colin growled, finally losing his temper. Stunned silence greeted his outburst. Colin buried his head in his hands. After a couple of minutes, he looked up at Cookie. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“You spoke the truth. But I ain't a drunk no more and you ain’t taking that stuff. We both came through and got our lives back. O’Donnell can’t destroy that again. I won’t stand by and let him do it this time.” Cookie’s determined expression showed he meant every word.
“O’Donnell wouldn’t do anything. He’d be risking too much, wouldn’t he?” Mick sounded doubtful.
“Not a risk I’d want to take. Marry the girl and stay in Noelle. No good will come of bringing the whole sorry subject to light now. Should have fixed it when the war ended. Like I told ya to,” Cookie mumbled.
“I was sick of the killings. We all were. I thought that time of my life was finished.” Colin looked at his coffee.
“It was until you agreed to get married. What did I tell ya? Women are nothing but trouble. You hear that, Mick? Don’t you be getting any ideas of tying yourself to a piece of skirt. Be like me and stay single. You’ll be much happier.”
“What are you going to do?” Mick asked Colin, ignoring Cookie.
“I don’t know, Mick, and that’s the honest truth.”
Chapter 18
Cara had to get outside for a walk. Every night she had been leaving a small amount of food in the shed and this was the first morning it had still been there when she came downstairs. She couldn’t understand what had happened. Had the boys been scared off? Worse had they been in an accident? Were they sick?
She was so frustrated she didn’t know anything about them. It was not as if she could ask if anyone had seen a pair of starving children. From the little she had witnessed of this town, there were quite a few families surviving on very little.
Meanwhile the brides were discussing their dresses. She had never been interested in fashion. When her sisters were oohing and aahing over patterns and dresses, she was outside looking after animals or walking. Often she would sneak away from her mother and disappear for hours, her only company being a good book. The other brides were nice, but being surrounded by a group of excitable women was proving to be too much. She couldn’t hide away with a book this time but there was nothing to stop her from taking a walk. She could explore the town of Noelle a little more.
She hadn't been walking long before she wondered if she’d made a mistake. There were very few women about and although the men she met were friendly, a few had been rather too friendly. She kept walking as near to the storefronts as possible. After a little while, she spotted Colin moving toward her from the opposite direction. She studied his face. He looked lost–a bit like a child who had been punished for something he hadn't done.
Cara’s heart melted. She wanted to take him home, cook him a decent meal and see he got a good night’s sleep. He could do with a shave and a haircut, too. He’d look more like a doctor then. Now he looked like a man on the run. But that’s what he was, wasn’t he?
“Cara, what are you doing outside walking alone? This isn't Boston.”
“I know my geography, thank you very much,” she snapped back, annoyed at him for being a man on the run and not just Colin.
“Don’t be spiky, Cara. I’m serious. The men up here in the mountains, while they may be good men at heart, haven't seen a decent single woman in a long time. They may say anything. You heard the remarks they made to the bride before the Reverend got married on Christmas day.”
Cara’s cheeks reddened at the memory of what some of the miners had said to poor Felicity. Not that Felicity seemed to care. She was such a strong lady. Her stories of fighting for women’s rights had mesmerized Cara.
“Where were you going?” she asked trying to change the subject.
“I just came back from seeing your friend, Molly.”
“Molly? Is she alright?”
“She is now, thanks to Storm’s quick thinking. She almost froze to death. You women have no idea what to expect from our climate up here in the mountains.”
He was right but she wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m glad Molly’s groom to be, looked after her.” Oh, what was it about Colin that always got her temper going? She tried to modulate her tone. “I best get back to La Maison.”
“Seeing you have walked this far already, would you like to see my house?” Colin asked, a rather hopeful expression in his eyes.
“You mean the doctor's office?”
“No, I mean my house. I tend to stay in town at the office in case of emergencies. There’s no real attraction in going home to an empty house. But…” It was Colin’s turn for his cheeks to turn red.
“But if you had a wife, you might have reason to live in it,” Cara said bluntly.
Colin grinned. “You always did say what you thought. I’m glad you didn’t grow out of that attribute. Shall we?”
“I don’t think Mrs. Walters would like me going visiting with you to an empty property.” Cara stalled, not wanting to admit she didn’t trust herself to be alone with him.
“Mick and Cookie are there. We won’t be alone.”
“Cookie? Is he a dog?”
Colin laughed. “No, he’s a man. He was a soldier in my unit in the war. Mick is his friend, about your age. They are nice men but you might find them a little rough around the edges. Cookie does make good coffee, though.”
Cara found herself agreeing, intrigued by the idea of meeting friends of Colin. He walked at her pace, the skirts of her gown combined with the snow limiting her progress. They walked back past Cobb’s Penn opposite the saloon and then down to the livery. Taking a left turn, eventually, they came to a rather large log cabin just outside the main town area.
“Is this it?” she asked, wonder making her voice a little squeaky.
“Yes. Big, isn’t it? I didn’t build it myself. I bought it from someone who decided Colorado wasn’t for him.”
“How could anyone no
t want to live up here? It is so beautiful with the mountains. The trees look like Christmas trees glistening on the sides and they smell so good. I love it already.” Cara fell silent with embarrassment. She had said enough.
Colin pretended he hadn't noticed her embarrassment, for which she was grateful.
“You haven't seen it yet at its true beauty. Wait until the spring comes and the snow recedes. You’ll see the flowers and the animals. It’s like a scene from a book.”
Colin opened the door, before standing back to allow to Cara enter first. Colin shouted for Mick and Cookie, she guessed to give them warning he had a guest with him.
The inside of the house was even more beautiful than the outside.
“The man who built this must have put a lot of thought and care into it,” Cara remarked as she took in the wooden floor, and the beautifully carved staircase leading upstairs.
“They say he built it for his bride to be but she never made it to Colorado. Died in a train wreck.”
Cara swallowed, her heart full of sympathy for a man she’d never met. It was obvious he had taken time and care preparing the house for his bride. It may lack a woman’s touch but with a little love and attention, it could become a beautiful home once more. She walked through, imagining how she could add improvements to it. She was so caught up in her imagination, Colin had to call her name a couple of times.
“This here is the kitchen. I got indoor plumbing. I know that is a real luxury, although I don’t think Cookie appreciates it.”
Cookie was standing staring at her, an unfriendly expression on his face. She held her hand out to him but he turned his back on her.
Colin’s cheeks flushed.
“I guess you both want coffee. I got some on the boil. It should be all right but maybe the miss wants me to start over with a new pot,” Cookie said in a goading manner, almost as if he were intentionally being rude.
Indignation caught a hold of Cara’s temper. “Don’t put yourself out on my account. I don’t need coffee. I was just leaving.” She turned so quickly she walked straight into another man’s chest, almost knocking him over.
“Sorry, Miss. I wasn’t expecting you to turn. I’m Mick Quinn.” The younger man held out his hand to her. He wasn’t the best looking man she had ever seen but he had warm eyes and a nice smile.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mick said warmly. A bit too warmly, but perhaps he was trying to make up for the older man’s rudeness.
“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Quinn. My name is…”
“O’Donnell. Aye, we know. Now you said you were leaving.”
Cara’s mouth opened and shut again at Cookie’s rudeness while the two other men called his name.
“Cookie, this is my house and Cara is my guest. If you can’t be pleasant you should be the one leaving,” Colin said, taking a step toward Cara, his stance protective.
Cookie flung the coffee cups on the table. “My pleasure. I ain't staying anywhere near an O’Donnell.” And then he was gone, banging the door behind him.
Cara’s feet sagged and she wished she were sitting down. Colin must have noticed as he reached for her and half swung, half carried her into a chair. “Sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“I am sorry about Cookie, Miss Cara. He’s normally a nice man. Bit rough around the edges but he has a heart of gold.”
“If you say so, Mr. Quinn.” Cara didn’t want to be rude but the thought that ignorant bear had a heart, never mind a good one, was too far-fetched to be true.
“Mick is right. Cookie would do anything for his friends. That’s part of the problem, he is a little protective.”
“He thinks you need protecting? From what?” As the two men stared at her, her mouth opened in an O shape but nothing came out.
Mick limped to the table and took the chair opposite her, leaving Colin the chair beside her.
“Cookie saved my life, Miss Cara, and he’s been like a father to me ever since. I swear I have never seen him behave so badly, I am sure he will apologize to you later.”
“Why does he hate me so much? Is he like this with all women? It seemed more personal than that.”
An awkward silence filled the room. Cara looked from Colin to Mick and back to Colin again.
“It's not you he hates,” Colin explained.
“But he said, O’Donnell…” The pieces of the puzzle started to come together. “He knew my brother, didn’t he?”
Both Mick and Colin suddenly found the floor very interesting.
“Colin, talk to me.”
“I think it’s best if we get you back to Mrs. Walters. She’s probably very concerned about you. You went for a walk by yourself and it's getting rather dark outside.” Colin’s face was red with discomfort.
Cara looked out the window, pointedly staring at the daylight.
“You’re right, Colin, those clouds look like snow. Likely to be a heavy shower shortly. You shouldn’t want to get caught out in it, Miss Cara. It was lovely meeting you. I…well, I’m sorry about…you know.”
And Mick was gone, leaving Cara and Colin alone. Colin stood up, holding Cara's coat for her. “Come on, we best get you back to La Maison des Chats.”
“I want to talk to that man Cookie. He has to tell me what he has against my brother. He obviously hates him and I want to know why.”
“Leave it, Cara.”
“But…”
“Leave it alone, Cara. I mean it. Cookie went through a horrendous time in the war. We all did.”
“You mean Mick was injured in the war? But he’s only a little older than I am.
“Yes, he was injured at Atlanta. Saved by a union surgeon who then gave him back into Cookie’s care. Those two have been inseparable since. I guess each makes up for the family they both lost. Now come on, let's get you home before the snows come.”
They walked back to La Maison des Chats in uncomfortable silence. Once they got to the door, Cara turned to Colin, “Thank you for taking me to see your home. It is beautiful. And I am sorry about your friend. I can't imagine what Thomas did but I apologize on his behalf, too.”
She immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. He looked absolutely furious. He gripped the top of her shoulders, not tight enough to hurt her but enough so she couldn’t move away.
“No, don’t ever say that again. You are not responsible for your brother. You are innocent, Cara. Stay that way.” Then he let her go and he was gone. He didn’t wait for her to close the door.
Chapter 19
December 29, 1876
Colin walked slowly toward his office, the lunch Cookie had provided for him in his hand, his thoughts on La Maison—or, more specifically, on Cara. He’d kicked himself for introducing Cara to Cookie. He should have made certain the older man would be nice to her. He knew Cookie was bitter but he hadn’t realized how deep that bitterness ran until he saw his reaction to Cara.
Deep in thought, he heard the screams before he saw the commotion outside the Golden Nugget. Running, he grabbed Seamus Malone’s arm just as he was about to belt a young boy.
“Seamus, what are you doing? He’s just a child.”
“Doc, a child he might be but Jude’s a thieving little varmint. What do you expect from a tribe like the O’Malleys?” Seamus said.
“Where’s your Christian charity? You know Jude’s pa lost his arm in the last mine cave-in. Fergus was a good customer of yours prior to that, if memory serves me right,” Colin said.
Seamus’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “What do you want me to do, Doc? I ain’t got the money to feed the O’Malleys.”
Colin ignored Seamus. He gestured to the boy to come closer, holding out his packed lunch. The boy’s eyes darted from left to right, obviously torn between coming closer in the hope he would get some food and fearing a beating. The need for food won out.
“Here boy, get that down you. Eat it slow. You don’t want to chuck it back up.”
The boy gulped the sandwich despite Co
lin’s instructions. Colin couldn’t blame him. He knew from experience what it was like to be so hungry you could eat your own shoe leather. If you still had shoes.
“Boy, why are you foraging in the bins? Where’s your ma and pa?” Colin asked.
“Pa’s real sick and ma’s having a baby. The others are either sick or gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Paddy and Sean took off a few days ago. Said they was going to get dinner fit for Christmas. They were supposed to bring back a fat turkey or a small deer. Only they never came back. The young’uns won’t stop crying. I had to get out.”
Young’uns—the boy couldn’t have been more than six or seven. Colin looked to Seamus but the bartender had turned his back. There was no help coming from that quarter. Seamus was usually the first to help. He must be in a stew over something more than a few missing loaves of bread.
“What’s your name again?”
“Jude, Doc Deane. Ma said she named me for the saints of lost causes.”
Colin hid a grin. The boy didn’t look at all like a saint. He had a mass of dirty curls sitting above a face that hadn’t seen a washcloth this side of Christmas. He had a cheeky look about him. Poor child also had all the marks of bad nutrition. He was small for his age, his bony arms and legs sticking out of his body.
“How sick is your pa?”
“Real sick. He wasn’t able to beat the others for crying.”
Doc put his arm around Jude’s shoulders, trying to ignore the flinch the boy made as if he expected to be hit. “Come on, Jude, let’s get back to my office. I need my bag. We’ll stop at the store, too, and buy some food to bring back to the others.”
“Why are you helping us? What you want in return?” Jude asked, looking at Colin suspiciously.
“Nothing. I’m a doctor. It’s my job to help people.”
“My pa says nobody ever helps someone for nothing. They always want something.”
Colin didn’t want to criticize the boy’s pa, but neither did he want to lose time by arguing with the child in the cold.
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