“You lie,” she whispered, but a sinking sense of truth sank into her marrow.
“So you wish,” Mrs. Davies taunted, as she spun on her heels. She called out over her shoulder before she strolled away, “I wonder what it feels like to only ever be wanted for your skill in the kitchen and nothing else?” With another vicious chuckle, she was soon out of earshot.
Deirdre collapsed onto the bench in front of the café, her earlier joy at her relaxing day and the cooling breeze eroded as easily as the riverbank during spring runoff. Her thoughts whirled, but she was no match for the doubts that crept in. Was this why the O’Rourke boys had raced after her? Because their father had bought the café, and they needed her as a cook? Could she trust anything Ardan said?
She bowed her head, fighting tears and anguish. Memories of working for years for a family who treated her with barely veiled contempt flooded back. The scathing comments, the jeering laughter, the slaps on her wrists and back when she was two minutes late with a meal. The long solitary hours in the kitchen as she prepared, cooked, and cleaned. Was this always to be her life? Lonely and forever dreaming of more?
Ardan entered the kitchen and locked the back door before making his way to her living space above the café. He fought the sense of rightness about the action. He stepped into the living room and battled the hope that this dream—returning home to her—would forever be his reality. A lit lamp on a side table cast light through the part of the room nearest the door, although the area near the window remained largely in shadow. He paused to find her standing near the window, with a shawl wrapped around her and her arms hugging herself. Suppressing the urge to rush to her and to enfold her in his arms, he remained in the middle of the room.
“Deirdre,” he whispered. He frowned as his voice, his presence, seemed to distress her rather than soothe her.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her back to him, as she stared out at the prairie land and the sunset’s changing colors from her rear window.
“Where else should I be?” he asked, taking a step toward her. He stilled when he saw the tension in her shoulders. “I had hoped you would come to me when we returned to town. That you would seek me out.”
She rubbed at her forehead and let out a mirthless chuckle. “I suppose I should have. After all, I have a business now because of your family. Should we name it the O’Rourke Café? Am I little more than your employee? Should I bow and scrape before you?”
“Deirdre,” he whispered in a hurt-ladened voice. “Why are you upset with me? With my family?”
She placed her hand on the windowsill, leaning forward and breathing hard, as though she were out of breath. “You have no idea what you ask.”
He took a few steps in her direction, noting the polished furniture and the fresh wildflowers on a side table. All signs his mother and sisters continued to look after Deirdre too. “What do I ask that causes you such distress?”
She spun to face him, tears streaking her face, eyes swollen and nose reddened. “Do you have any idea what it did to me to learn that your family had bought the café? That none of you thought I was important enough to inform of the transaction?” She shook her head at him when he would have protested. “That I’m merely the cook. Why should I have any voice in the matter?”
“Deirdre, don’t be foolish. It’s not like that at all,” Ardan said. He held up his hands to placate her, but she swatted at them.
“Don’t touch me, and don’t call me foolish! You’re not the one who lived her life as no better than an indentured servant! You’re not the one whose dreams have always been destroyed.” She shook her head in dismay. “I thought I was creating something here. That I had control over my destiny.” She sniffled. “I guess I am a fool to ever believe things would be different this time.”
“Deirdre, please. You know how much I care about you.” Ardan’s gaze shone with torment, as she shook her head at his words.
“No! I can’t care for you! I refuse to.”
He took the last steps separating them, gripping her arms. “You mean, you’re not brave enough. You’re allowing your fear to rule you, rather than your hope and your love.”
“How dare you imply I’m a coward!” she yelled, hitting him on his shoulder and pushing him back a step. “I’m brave. I’m here in this godforsaken town, aren’t I?”
He shook his head, stepping closer to her, so they were only separated by a hairsbreadth. “No, that wasn’t bravery. That was desperation. It wasn’t courageous when you hoped to answer that ad with a determination never to love again. Never to feel again. That’s not brave, Deirdre.”
“You don’t understand!” she screeched, hitting at his chest, while her lungs heaved in and out as she fought sobs.
Clasping her shoulders, Ardan stared at her with blue eyes glowing with passionate intensity. “You think I don’t understand? That I don’t know the agony of losing someone I love?” He stared at her with absolute disappointment. “Of course I do. And I was fortunate enough to regain her.” His voice broke on her. “And I was blessed to have her wise advice again.”
“You don’t know what it is to lose your husband. Your child,” Deirdre gasped.
His eyes shone with sadness, and he shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I pray I never will.” He cleared his throat. “But I do know what it was like to lose you.” He waited a long moment as his words sank in, and he saw a dawning comprehension in her gaze. “Don’t you have any idea what it did to me to have you turn away from me? To have you leave town with Silas, without even saying goodbye?” His eyes glowed with pain. “How could you, Deirdre? Leave without a word?”
She stared at him, her eyes shining with her misery, as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Do you have any idea what it did to me to receive word of the crash? To believe …” He closed his eyes for a moment, as though unable to utter his worst fear. He opened his eyes and spoke in a low, earnest tone, laced with terror. “To believe for the entirety of that harrowing trip to the crash site, that you might have been hurt? That I might have lost you?”
“Ardan,” she breathed.
“How can you not comprehend what that did to me?” he asked with a shake of his head. He closed his eyes, as a tear streaked down his cheek before meeting her gaze again. “I love you, Deirdre. I love you with all that I am and all that I hope to become. But I can’t continue thus.” He released her. “I refuse to wait in vain for a woman who has no hope in the future. Who is not brave enough to dare to dream again.”
“Ardan,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She stared at him a long moment, but the only sound in the room was that of their harsh breathing.
“Goodbye, Deirdre.” He picked up her hand, kissing her palm, his eyes closing for a moment at the touch of her skin against his lips. “I will always cherish what we had.” He released her hand and slipped from the room without a backward glance.
Deirdre fell to her knees, watching Ardan leave. A deep keening sob tore from her as his words reverberated through her mind. No hope in the future. Not brave enough to dream again.
“No, no, no!” she cried out, as she reached toward the door, willing him to turn around. To comfort her and to listen to her avowals of love. Of love? Oh, did she dare? Could she be as brave as he believed her to be?
However, he failed to return, and she remained alone in her misery on the floor.
After long minutes, she pushed herself to standing, groaning at the stiffness in her joints. She shuffled to her room, moving through her nightly ablutions with little thought, as an overwhelming grief settled over her. Like the shroud of grief that had enveloped her with the death of Lydia. At the news of Alonzo’s death.
She curled under the covers of her bed, staring at the wall, as tears leaked from her eyes. “This time, I did it to myself,” she whispered. She fought the urge to scoot backward, her body eager to feel Ardan curling around her as she slept, bereft at the realization he wasn’t here. That he’d never be here again.
>
Early the next morning, Ardan stood staring in the direction of the Missouri River. Rather than the current carrying driftwood downstream, he saw his memories of Deirdre. Her eyes lit with joy as she told him a story in the kitchen. Her head tilted back as she laughed. The dawning passion in her gaze the moment before he first kissed her. The contented smile on her face as she leaned into him for comfort after she hurt her ankle.
He closed his eyes to stop the onslaught of memories, but they continued until he had relived the previous night’s argument. He bowed his head, rubbing at his temple as he sighed.
Kevin joined him, sipping at a cup of tea. After many minutes, he murmured, “What happened?”
Ardan took the cup from him and swigged down a large sip. “Ah, heaven.” He sighed and shared a sardonic look with his brother. “I lost my patience with her fear.” His shoulders slumped. “I thought I could wait forever. That I would be satisfied with whatever she was willin’ to give me. I was a fool.”
“What changed?” Kevin asked, as he took another sip of the tea and then handed the mug to Ardan to finish the beverage. “You’ve always been the most patient of us all, Ard.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, as he stared at the golden hills across the river. “But I found I had little tolerance for her using her grief as a shield against loving me.” He ducked his head.
Kevin sighed. “We all know what fear can do.”
Turning to face his brother, Ardan stared at him intently. “You didn’t allow your fears to prevent you from loving Aileen. You believed. You had faith in the future, rather than clinging to the disappointments of the past.”
Smiling, his brother shrugged. “I had no choice. ’Twas as though I’d been struck dumb at the sight of her, an’ I knew life would never be the same again.” He gripped Ardan’s arm. “I suspect it was much the same for you, although you were slower to admit it.”
Ardan chuckled. “Aye. But now that I have accepted how much I care for her, I can’t accept the little she’s willing to give me. I deserve more.”
“You both do, Ardan.” He sighed. “I believe she’ll discover fear is a cold bedfellow, and she’ll soon seek you out. Be patient, Ardan.”
He let out a deep sigh. “For the first time in my life, I don’t want to be. I want to grab at life and dare it to spite me.” He closed his eyes. “And that makes me a fool. For it already has.”
“No,” Kevin said with a wry smile, his hazel eyes shining with love for his eldest brother and best friend. “It means you’re no longer hindered by the past.”
They stood side by side as the river gurgled and a group of white pelicans swooped by. “What should I do?” Ardan whispered.
Clapping his brother on the shoulder and squeezing it, Kevin said, “Nothin’. There’s nothin’ more for you to do. If she doesn’t see her way free of her fear, feeling pushed into a corner by you won’t help her.”
Deirdre worked in the kitchen, fidgeting at being surrounded by O’Rourkes. Mary and Maggie helped her in the kitchen, with Seamus charming the men in the dining room. As though by tacit agreement, Mary and Maggie sang songs throughout the morning, sensing that Deirdre had no patience for conversation.
The few times the back door opened, only to find Eamon or Finn had entered, Deirdre had to fight disappointment that Ardan had not come to see her. To ensure she was well after the previous night’s argument. She silently chastised herself, as he had told her that he would not seek her out. However, the thought that he would never walk up the back steps again made her want to sob.
“Where is Mr. Hunt?” Deirdre finally asked, as they prepared for the midday rush.
Mary stared at her, as though she were confused by the question. “Don’t you know?” Mary asked, as she wiped down the butcher block countertops.
Deirdre shook her head. “All I heard was that you had bought the café. I don’t know where he went.”
Mary smiled. “He knew his talents did not lie in the café business. He departed yesterday for Helena.” Mary sighed. “I fear he’ll have as little sense as he did here and will attempt to run another café. Seamus urged him to try running a saloon instead.”
“He could become a miner,” Maggie said with an impish smile.
Mary laughed. “Oh, could you see him dirtyin’ his fine clothes as he toiled in the muck, searchin’ for gold?” Her eyes were lit with merriment at the thought, before she shook her head. “No, he’ll hire someone to do the work for him, just as he hired Deirdre here.” Seamus called for Mary in the main café area, and she walked out to speak with her husband.
Deirdre stood staring in space, wrist deep in bread dough to knead.
“Are you all right, Deirdre?” Maggie asked, as she dried dishes and put them away. “You seem out of sorts.”
Deirdre cut off her instinctual protestation that she was fine and shook her head. “No, I’m wretched,” she whispered.
“Oh, no.” Maggie set down her cloth and pulled Deirdre into her arms, uncaring of the mess that would mar her dress. “Nothing can be so bad as to make you miserable like this.”
“I pushed him away,” Deirdre gasped out between her halting breaths. “I … I … wasn’t the woman he needed.”
Maggie laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know Ardan well, as I’ve only been reunited with him for a short time.” She bit her lip. “But, from what I do know, you are exactly the woman he needs.” She swiped a hand over Deirdre’s head.
Deirdre leaned forward, taking comfort in Maggie’s soothing words and sisterly hug. “I never had a family like yours. A family who truly cared for everyone and wished for the best for each other.” She let out a stuttering breath. “I thought for the longest time I had to live away from any familial entanglements because the loyalty they would exact from my husband would always run contrary to what I needed as a wife.”
Maggie made a soothing noise. “That’s what you knew with your first husband’s family. We’re not that way. You know that, Deirdre.”
“It’s hard to have faith that all this isn’t simply to entice me to be with Ardan,” Deirdre said, ignoring Maggie’s shocked gasp.
Maggie stepped back a pace and stared at her in confusion. “You believe Da bought the café to control you?” She furrowed her brows. She bit off what else she would have said as Mary reentered the kitchen with orders and a story to tell about a recent Indian altercation at Cow Island.
“Seems you were lucky to have no interaction with them when you spent your night in the wilds,” Mary said. “I’m glad my prayers were answered, and you all came home safely to me.” She ran a hand down Deirdre’s arm as she moved to the stew pot to ladle out the meals.
Deirdre nodded and fought tears—confusion, hope, and longing warring within her.
Ardan sat at the family dinner table that night, his plate of food largely ignored as he stared into space. He had hoped all day that Deirdre would come to him. Instead he had found ways to keep himself busy, and now he was filled with a restless energy. Conversations flowed around him, as they always did when all his siblings were together, and he focused on their chatter.
“Maggie, you seem quiet tonight,” Ardan murmured to his sister, sitting a few seats away and across the table from him.
“The same could be said of you,” she said with a wry smile. However, no joy lit her gaze, and she bit her lip, as though battling a worry.
“What is it, lass?” he asked. “You’ve not acted like this since …” He shook his head, refusing to say Jacques Bergeron’s name. “Have you heard something?” At the flare of terror in her gaze, he silently swore.
“No!” she gasped. “No,” she repeated in a calmer manner. By now the other conversations had abated, and everyone focused on him and Maggie. She flushed as she slid a furtive glance in their da’s direction. “I spoke with Deirdre today.” She smiled apologetically in Ardan’s direction, when he stiffened at her words. “I fear there is confusion, Da.”
Seamus set down his fork and k
nife, ignoring the meat loaf, potatoes, and beans in front of him, as he focused on his youngest daughter. “Confusion?”
Maggie took a deep breath and said, “Deirdre believes we have bought the café to coerce her into being with Ardan. That we wish to control her in some way.” She shrugged as Seamus gaped at her, and her brothers burst into outraged protestations.
Ardan pushed back his chair and rose from the table. “She’s uncertain about her role, Maggie, and she wants someone to blame for her fear. If she had paid attention to how we are rather than let her fears rule her, she would know we would never have meant to control her. To coerce her.” His gaze was filled with pain, as though he had just suffered a bodily injury.
He spun and fled the room, his boot heels clattering down the back steps as he strode away from the family home. He avoided the gopher hole that had tripped up Deirdre and walked farther away from the house until the light in the kitchen window acted like a beacon. Turning his back on the house, he took a deep breath and stared into the darkness. After a moment, he tumbled to the ground and laid flat on his back to stare at the stars.
The Milky Way shimmered in the moonless night, as though beckoning all who beheld it to become lost in its depths. A shooting star raced across the sky, and Ardan closed his eyes to make a wish. He allowed the cool night air, the soft breeze, the call of a distant owl to soothe his restlessness. However, nothing eased the ache in his heart.
After nearly an hour, Ardan reentered the family kitchen to find his family sipping tea and furtively watching the door for his reappearance. He accepted a cup of tea, adding milk and sugar, and sipped at it with a sigh of appreciation.
Pioneer Desire: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Two Page 16