Pioneer Desire: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Two

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Pioneer Desire: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Two Page 10

by Ramona Flightner


  She waved away her concern at that and focused on him. “Are you well, Ardan?” She stepped up to him and ran her hand over the hair at his temple, brushing it back into place. “You seem more at peace and yet more troubled at the same time. Quite a contradiction.”

  He gave a soft laugh and pulled his mother into his arms for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Mum, so much,” he whispered.

  “I know, my boy. Just as I know you wait for me to leave again.” She cupped his face. “You must understand, the next time you say goodbye to me is when I die.” She saw his eyes widen in terror. “Shh, my sweet boy. You know we all must face such a future. My hope is that it is many years from now.”

  “Aye,” he rasped.

  “You must cease allowing your fear of being left alone sometime in the future to keep you from enjoying life, from loving, now. For now is all we have, Ardan.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you believe I would ever have given up a moment I had with you or your siblings or with your da, if I’d known I’d be separated from you for so long?” She shook her head. “Never. The joy I knew with all of you fed me for the many years I was away.”

  “I thought you were bitter toward Da,” he said.

  “I was when I first saw him again,” she admitted. “But that was to protect my heart against further pain. As you are trying to protect yours. But I quickly learned that road only led to more loneliness and a life I’d already determined I didn’t want. A life devoid of the happiness and joy I’d known with all of you.”

  She cupped his face as she looked deeply into his eyes. “Be courageous, my Ardan. For you were always meant to be bold and brave.”

  He pulled her close, holding her for a long moment.

  Maggie heard a door slamming downstairs and looked out the back window of Deirdre’s room. “Niamh’s angry again,” she murmured, as she puttered around Deirdre’s room. She had helped Deirdre change from yesterday’s clothes into a comfortable nightgown and brought over a pan of water and a towel so she could wash her face.

  “Why should she be angry? I thought all you O’Rourkes got along?” Deirdre asked, as she rested with her foot elevated. She shifted around, as though searching for a comfortable position.

  Maggie left the room and returned with pillows from the other bedrooms and used them as supports for her leg. “Oh, Niamh doesn’t like Mum and me,” she said with a careless shrug. “She hasn’t since we came back.”

  “Back?” Deirdre asked. “Where did you go?”

  Maggie pulled over the chair from the corner of the room until she sat near Deirdre’s side of the bed. Careful not to jostle her ankle, Maggie propped her feet atop the bed, making herself comfortable. “Haven’t you heard the story about us? It’s what the townsfolk most like to gossip about.” Her eyes gleamed with interest, as she watched Deirdre.

  “No,” the older woman said with a flush. “I’ve not had time to make many friends. Just your brother and sister, and that’s because they’ve helped me in my kitchen.” She grimaced. “I do everything I can to avoid any interaction with Mrs. Davies.” She grinned as Maggie snickered. “And Buford is too busy chatting with the men out front to spend time talking with me.”

  Maggie giggled again and shook her head. “That’s not why he ignores you,” she said with an amused grin. “He knows Ardan will pummel him if he mistreats you, and he has no desire to lose the favor of the O’Rourkes. Or be on the wrong side of a fight with us.” Her voice was filled with pride as she talked about her brothers. “They’re fierce fighters when provoked and very protective of those they care about.”

  Deirdre paled and then flushed, her eyes widened in alarm. “No, Maggie, you misunderstand. Your brother is a friend. Nothing more.”

  Shaking her head, Maggie rested in the chair. “One day you’ll have to admit the lie of what you say. For the little I know about Ardan, I understand he’s never acted this way toward another woman.” She waited for Deirdre to speak, but, when she remained quiet, she said in a soft voice, “Treat him gently, if you don’t want anything from him.”

  Deirdre closed her eyes, suddenly swallowing back more tears. “I don’t know what I want right now, Maggie.”

  The young woman shrugged and laughed. “Why should you? You’ve just met him.” She bit her lip. “Mum always said to be patient and to not rush love.” After a moment, she added, “Although I don’t know how you’ll ever get to know him, if he’s in Saint Louis, and you’re here.”

  “Saint Louis?” Deirdre asked, clutching the blanket around her. She tried to curl onto her side, but the motion provoked too much pain, and she had to remain on her back.

  “Declan’s traveling there soon for supplies, and I know Da worries about him traveling alone. Ardan and Kevin spent last winter there together, so it makes sense to me that Ardan would go back again this winter.”

  “Be gone the entire winter?” Deirdre asked in a near breathless voice.

  Maggie nodded and then shrugged. “But you were asking about Niamh and why she would be angry with Mum.” She sighed, as she wrapped her arms around herself. “She doesn’t much like me either.” At Deirdre’s puzzled expression, she grinned. “It’s baffling, isn’t it?”

  After a pause, Maggie said, “Mum and I were separated from my father, my brothers, and Niamh for almost eighteen years. From the day of my birth.” She nodded as Deirdre gaped at her. “They had just arrived in Montreal after their voyage from Ireland, and Mum gave birth to me in a shack filled with others sick with typhus. Da visited us while Mum slept but had to go home to take care of my siblings. When he returned, Mum wasn’t in her cot, and he was told by a nun who barely spoke English that we’d died and had already been buried in a mass grave.”

  “Oh, no,” Deirdre gasped, her hands covering the lower half of her face, as she stared at Maggie in horror.

  Maggie nodded. “All the while my da mourned my mum, moved the family, and made plans to leave the city, Mum waited for him with me in a nearby shed. Another nun had moved us there to protect Mum and me from the typhus.”

  “Oh, what a tragedy. But he found you soon afterward. He learned of his mistake,” Deirdre said.

  “No, not until about a month ago, when my mum walked into the family store here and saw my brothers, Eamon and Finn. And then she saw my father.” Maggie’s smile faded, as though remembering a trying time. “I didn’t know anything about him because she never spoke of my father. Or my siblings. I never knew I had brothers and a sister who were older than me.”

  Deirdre was silent a long moment and then whispered, “Why doesn’t Niamh like you?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps she was used to us being dead. Or being the only sister.” She sighed. “But we’re back, and I’ve never seen Mum so happy.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s a relief to be free of Jacques.”

  “Who’s Jacques?”

  Maggie sat up with a start as boot steps sounded in the hallway. “That’s enough chatter about the past.” She smiled at Ardan as he entered the room, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll check in with Mum, while you talk with Deirdre. Bye, Deirdre!” Maggie raced from the room, her footsteps echoing down the stairs.

  Ardan stared at Deirdre, his blue eyes lighting with joy at the sight of her. However, an ever-present concern lingered, as he looked after the quickly departed figure of his sister. “What did you say to make her run away?”

  “I didn’t say anything. I just asked who Jacques was.” At his groan as he sat with a thud in the chair vacated by Maggie, she flushed. “I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong. She mentioned him.”

  Ardan’s head jerked up, as he stared at her with wonder. “Maggie mentioned the man?” When Deirdre nodded, he sat in confused silence for a long moment. “She’s not whispered his name in weeks. Not since we tricked him and sent him away.”

  Deirdre reached her hand out to him, stroking his hand clenched into a fist. “Why would you need to send him away?”

  “Maggie’s an O�
��Rourke, aye?” he said in a low voice. “She should be spirited and proud. Never afraid.” His jaw hardened as he stared at Deirdre, and his eyes glinted with anger. “When we found Mum, she was livin’ with her brother-in-law. A man who relished abusin’ her. And he coveted my sister.”

  “Jacques?” Deirdre asked in a voice barely above a whisper. At his nod, she gasped. “Poor Maggie.”

  “We saved her as he tried to break into her room,” Ardan said. “I carried her home, bruised and soul weary. Soul wary,” he amended. “Frightened of her own shadow. And never believin’ she had a rightful place with us.”

  “Things have changed in the past weeks, Ardan. She’s curious and bright and secure in who she is.”

  He nodded. “Aye, as long as we are near, she is the impish, boisterous sister I always imagined. But, if she were alone with someone she did not know, she’d freeze up and become a stranger.” He rubbed at his head. “I hate Jacques. I hate what he did to my mum and my wee sister.”

  “He won’t hurt her again?” Deirdre asked.

  “By the grace of God,” he whispered. “He’s far away, in Virginia City. I pray, every night, he’s buried under a pile of rocks.” When she stared at him wide-eyed, he asked, “Does that lower me in your estimation, Deirdre? Because I pray for another man’s death?” He waited a long moment for her to answer.

  “No,” she said in a nearly inaudible voice, “because I pray for the same.”

  “What?” He canted forward, gripping her hand. “Why?” He waited for her to share her story, but, when she remained silent, he sighed. “One day I hope you trust me enough to share your fears.” He raised her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ll leave you to rest, Deirdre.”

  Chapter 5

  Three days later, Deirdre woke and stretched. She stilled, waiting to hear Ardan’s deep voice beside her, as he whispered words of encouragement and endearment to her, but he must have already risen because the space beside her was cool and empty. Although she knew it to be scandalous, he and Maggie had continued to stay with her the past nights, and each evening, after Maggie went to bed, Ardan would slip into Deirdre’s, holding her tightly against his chest. Rarely would they speak.

  Generally his presence lulled her into a dreamless, contented slumber, a feeling of safety and security enveloping her. Once he sang to her a soft song in a language she didn’t understand, and it acted like a lullaby, easing her into a deep sleep.

  She rose and put pressure on her foot and ankle. Although her ankle was sore, it didn’t ache nearly as badly as the previous day. The rest and the willow bark tea had worked their magic. She flushed as she thought about the previous days, where Ardan had carried her to the privy whenever necessary, ignoring her words of protest, and had insisted she feel no embarrassment.

  Why was such a man interested in her? she asked herself. With a small huff of frustration that her interest was equally as piqued, she shuffled around her room. She pulled on comfortable clothes but remained in her slippers, as she feared tightly laced boots would be more than her ankle could handle.

  As she slowly descended the stairs one step at a time, she was met with the sounds of laughter and numerous voices chatting. Deirdre paused at the entrance to the kitchen, mouth agape at the scene in front of her. Gone was her organized kitchen, with everything tidy and in its place. Instead it looked as though a tornado had blown threw. Chaos seemed to reign here, as it did in the O’Rourke household, although she suspected it was a controlled chaos, as bread cooled on racks and plenty of food awaited the men in the café.

  Around the central butcher block table, the O’Rourke family sat, eating breakfast. Seamus glanced up to see her peering at them from the doorway. “Lass,” he called out, dropping his fork to his plate and striding to her. “You’re up an’ about. You should have called for Ardan. He would have helped you down the stairs.” He eased her onto a stool beside one of the brothers Ardan had called the twins, with the wild-looking brother named Declan on her other side. Ardan sat across from her. “We can’t have you injurin’ yourself the first day you’re feelin’ better.”

  Deirdre stared at the family in wonder, as Mary and Maggie worked by the stove. “I can help,” she said with a grimace. “Although I shouldn’t stand for the majority of the day.”

  “You’ll sit and not injure yourself anymore, if you have any sense,” Seamus said, earning a nod of agreement from Ardan.

  Deirdre stared at Ardan, but he broke eye contact and focused on the plate of food in front of him. When Maggie brought her a plate heaping with eggs, bacon, bread, and fried potatoes, she whispered her thanks. After Deirdre had only had a few bites, she jumped at the booming, disapproving voice of Buford Hunt, as her fork rattled to the floor.

  “So, you finally decided to grace us with your presence, did you?” Buford asked with a glare, his hands on his hips.

  “Buford,” Seamus and Ardan said at the same time, in the same warning tone.

  “Don’t Buford me,” he snapped, as he looked around the table of O’Rourkes. “I have no idea what I did to suffer your presence in my café.”

  Deirdre watched as Seamus and Ardan exchanged a long look before Ardan spoke. “We are here as a friend to Mrs. Finnegan. As you are well aware.”

  Seamus nibbled on a piece of bacon, as though he didn’t have a care in the world, although his gaze was filled with warning. “It’s what friends do for friends.”

  Buford shook his head in disgust and marched toward Deirdre. He roughly gripped her arm, hauling her upright and toward the kitchen’s back door. “We need to have a chat, partner to partner,” he hissed.

  Deirdre stumbled, due to the awkward movement and due to the pressure on her ankle. “Stop. My ankle hurts,” she gasped. She yelped as she was about to be towed down the rear steps into the alleyway in a rapid manner. When she had come downstairs this morning, she had descended each step like a child, both feet on one step, with a long pause on each as she balanced and eased her way down. She stumbled, nearly falling to her knees as her ankle gave out.

  “A likely story,” Buford muttered as he pulled on her to stand up.

  Deirdre shrieked again as she was tugged away from Buford and hauled up into Ardan’s arms. Declan followed Buford down the stairs, the twins on his heels, and she heard him muttering something about a lesson. “Put me down. It isn’t proper,” she whispered to Ardan, although she buried her face in his neck and breathed deeply of his scent. Instantly she relaxed, as she was held in his protective embrace.

  “Did you miss me this morning?” he breathed into her ear. At her subtle nod, he chuckled. “Good.” He kissed her head and settled her on her stool again. “Eat, love.” He returned with a clean fork for her and winked at her, as he sat in Declan’s vacated seat.

  She stared at her food and then at the fresh cup of tea set in front of her by Mary. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. As the O’Rourkes stared at her, she cleared her throat. “Why are you all here?”

  Seamus smiled at his wife and daughter. “Mary an’ Maggie needed to be here to work in the kitchen. We missed them at home. An’ none of the lads like to cook. So we came to be where they are. Besides, we’re decent at dishwashing.” He looked pointedly at a group of his youngest sons. They groaned but stood to begin washing. Soon they were jabbering and laughing, as they washed and dried plates, pots, and pans.

  Deirdre looked at her still-full plate of food. “What did Declan mean about teaching Mr. Hunt a lesson?”

  “No one likes a bully, love,” Ardan said. “An’ Buford’s becoming too big for his britches, thanks to your fine cookin’.” Ardan rose, accepting plates from his mother, and made his way into the café area. His voice, laughing and cajoling with the men there, echoed into the kitchen.

  “He’s a natural at whatever he does,” Deirdre whispered to herself. She saw Seamus with a speculative gleam in his eye, but he smiled innocently at her before she could ask him about it. “I can’t continue to count on your kindness.�
��

  “Of course you can,” Mary said. “’Tisn’t much different than plannin’ to cook for this horde.” She ran a soothing hand down Deirdre’s back. “You’re still not well enough to be on your feet much yet. ’Twill take a few more days, and you shouldn’t rush it. You can see we’re handling things well.”

  Deirdre’s eyes filled, and she ducked her head. “Yes, quite well.”

  Mary sat on one of the empty seats beside her and frowned. “Why the tears, lass?”

  “You make this look so easy. And it was so hard for me,” Deirdre whispered, the truth sputtering out of her, as Mary stared at her with a kindness which she was unaccustomed to.

  “You think this is easy?” Mary asked with a wry smile. “You haven’t heard my husband mutterin’ about his sore hands as he kneads my shoulders and feet each evening after a full day here.” She looked around. “Besides, you did all this work, with only Niamh’s help, while I’ve had Niamh, Maggie, and at least four of the lads at a time to clean up after me.” She wrapped an arm around Deirdre’s shoulder, urging her to rest her head on her shoulder. “You’ve done well, but you’ve done so much on your own, lass. ’Tis all right to lean on those who care for you.”

  “It’s been so long since I haven’t been on my own.”

  Mary made a soothing noise and patted her back. “Well, we’ve adopted you, so you’ll never be alone again.”

  “Mum?” Ardan asked, as he entered the kitchen, his delighted smile at the tall tale he’d just heard fading at the sight of Deirdre crying on his mother’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  “We all need a little cry now and again,” his mother said with a smile and a shooing motion. He feared he was hovering, but he wanted to ensure she was well. “Deir?” he whispered.

  “I’m fine,” Deirdre cried, as she continued to lean against his mother’s shoulder.

 

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