“Eamon?” Ardan asked, as he thrust open the door. “You look like hell.” He yanked him in for a bone-crushing hug, and Eamon clung to him, as though he were a lifeline. “Shh, lad, all will be well.”
Shaking and unexpectedly bereft, Eamon followed Ardan’s lead, traipsing behind him through the clean café kitchen and up the stairs to the living quarters over the café. The living room had a comfortable sofa, two chairs, and side tables. Curtains covered the window, and lamps on the tables cast a warming glow over the room. A bouquet of wildflowers sat on the low table in front of the sofa, and a bookcase was half filled with tomes in one corner of the room.
“Deir, Eamon’s come to call.” His voice held a quiet warning to not ask too many questions. “Alone.”
“Eamon,” Deirdre murmured, running her hand down his arm, as she stared deeply into his shattered gaze. “I hope you will forgive me. I’m tired after a long day of cooking.” She turned to kiss Ardan on his cheek, before slipping into their bedroom and closing the door to the room she shared with Ardan.
“I never meant to interrupt your evening,” Eamon protested.
Ardan slung an arm over his younger brother’s shoulder, pulling him close, as he urged him to a comfortable chair. “Deir understands, Eamon.” He paused as he watched his brother rock back and forth in a dazed stupor. “Help me to.”
“Bee resents me,” Eamon whispered. “Resents she never had a choice. Hates she felt forced into marriage.” When Ardan remained silent, Eamon looked up at him from his lowered gaze, afraid to see Ardan’s agreement in his gaze. Instead Ardan appeared perplexed and unconvinced.
“How did she come to that belief?” Ardan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring intently at his brother. “For she seemed delighted with you at the most recent family dinners.”
“Until tonight,” Eamon murmured, running his hand though his thick black hair. He rose, pacing the living space. “Tonight, it was like I was a leper.”
“Aye,” Ardan said in a gentle voice. “She didn’t want you near her.”
Eamon sighed, rubbing at his forehead, as he recalled her jerking away from his soft touch when he passed the basket of bread from her. Or flinching when he rested his hand on her shoulder. Rather than lean into him as she always did, she had stiffened and arched away.
Ardan waited until Eamon collapsed in his chair again, his gaze bereft. “I wonder if she spoke the truth tonight, lad.”
Rubbing at his eyes, Eamon said, “She seemed to believe it, Ard.”
“Aye, but I wonder if ’tis because she thought it was your truth, and she dreaded the day you’d proclaim her worst fear.” He paused. “Do you remember the fights Da and Colleen would have? How she always said things that weren’t true, putting words in his mouth, as though trying to take away the power of what he might say?”
Eamon nodded. “Aye. She’d always pronounce that Da was about to leave her. Or that he thought another more beautiful. Or that he wished he’d never married her.” He shrugged. “Perhaps those thoughts were true, but Da isn’t daft enough to ever consider saying such words to a woman, least of all his wife.”
Ardan chuckled. “No man should be that much of an eejit.” He sobered. “But ’twas as though Colleen wanted to take away the power of the potential pain. And, by doing so, she ruined the promise of the present.”
Eamon sat in stunned silence as he stared at his eldest brother. “Do you believe Bee was doing that?”
Shrugging, Ardan sighed. “I couldn’t say. You know her better than I do. But it sounds like she was speaking from fear.” He shared a long look with his brother. “I imagine someone who knew her well could provoke her worst fears.”
Eamon nodded, his eyes glistening with near hatred. “Winnifred.”
Ardan smiled sadly. “Not every family is loving, like ours. It seems your Phoebe has had a hard time with her sisters.” He paused. “Although I’m uncertain if Lorena is anything like Winnifred.”
“Is there something more I could have done to show her how much I cherish her?” Eamon ran a hand through his hair again. “I fear Bee believes I cannot protect her because Bell still runs his saloon. I never challenged him. We didn’t run him out of town.”
Ardan snickered. “And tell me how we would have done that? The man’s a giant of a beast, and his clientele is the most disreputable in Fort Benton.” He made a face as he looked at his brother. “An’ you know that’s saying something.”
Ardan shook his head. “No. I know Da is eager to find a way to punish Bell for how he treated Phoebe and the Madam, but Da’s patient. And so must we be. Lull the man into complacency, and then we can find a way to hurt Bell, as he hurt us.”
Eamon groaned and rested against the back of his chair and sat in silence for a long time. Ardan settled into his chair, content to wait. “You’ve always been the patient one,” Eamon murmured. “When we were children and acting out. When we were angry because we didn’t understand why Mum was gone. When we fought over food or a girl’s affection.” Eamon stared at Ardan with immense gratitude shining in his eyes. “You never yelled at us. You never wanted Finn and me to be anything other than we were.”
“Why would I?” Ardan asked, a quizzical furrow of his brows. “You’re perfect as you are, Eamon. With all your flaws and faults. They’re what make you unique and … you. I wouldn’t want you to be other than who you are.” He paused. “Nor does your wife.”
Eamon clenched his jaw as he tapped his palms on his knees. “How do I overcome her fears?” His shoulders slouched as he bent forward. “I’ve been constant. I’ve shown her who I am.”
Sighing, Ardan sat back in his chair with his feet stretched out in front of him. “I don’t know, Eamon. I suspect she’ll have to find her courage. No one can do that for her.”
Chapter 19
The following afternoon, Phoebe sat on her front porch, the soft breeze blowing around her. She had foregone a hat, as it would have blown off, and, besides, she was in the shade. Her gaze darted from the direction of the big house to the backs of the businesses in town, searching for any sign of her husband. She had not seen him since he had stormed out of their house the previous night, and she feared where he had gone. For what he had done.
She set down her sewing, as she made a garbled mess that would need to be torn out and resewn. Unshed tears blinded her, and she could not form a straight line. A pervasive sadness filled her, and she worried she would never overcome her sorrow. Unlike other days, she could not cling to anger or any other emotion. Today her companion was sadness, and she feared she had no one to blame but herself for its presence.
When she blinked, her vision cleared, and her sister Lorena approached, wearing a demure fern-green dress that highlighted her striking coloring. Rather than tied back in a severe bun, her red hair was in a loose knot at the back of her nape, adding a softness to her and making her seem more approachable and friendly. She neared Phoebe’s porch, standing a few feet away. “How are you, sister?”
“Fine,” Phoebe croaked out.
Twisting her hands in front of her, Lorena fidgeted her weight from foot to foot. “Might I sit with you on the porch? I’m uncertain if that would go against your husband’s edict, but I would like to speak with you.”
She stared at her eldest sister for a long moment, as Lorena had desired little to do with her for years. Ever since Lorena’s “disappointment,” as their mother had called it. Although Phoebe never knew what that entailed. After a prolonged silence, Phoebe nodded. “I’d enjoy the company.”
“You have a lovely home, Phoebe,” Lorena said with an approving nod, as she sat in the large chair that was Eamon’s. It seemed she would be eaten up by it. “Your husband provides well for you.”
“I know I should want for nothing more.”
Lorena stared at her with concern, her green eyes glowing with shame. “I fear I’ve not accepted the role that was my due as the eldest. I’ve forced you into being the responsible, duti
ful sister, while I moped and dreamed.”
“Lo?” Phoebe whispered.
Lorena let out a deep breath, as she stared at the backside of the burgeoning town. Men scurried from place to place, either to earn a wage or to bet what they’d earned. Dogs lolled in the shade, their gazes trained on the back doors, ever hopeful for a wayward scrap. “Do you know how much of a torment it is to me to live with the O’Rourkes?” Her eyes glowed with her passionate sincerity. “Every day I’m faced with my inadequacies. I’m forced to acknowledge how much I failed you and Winnifred.” Lorena closed her eyes. “And I’m sorry.”
“Lo,” Phoebe breathed again in a shocked voice, her hand fluttering around like a drunken butterfly, uncertain if she should touch her sister or not. She finally settled it again on her lap, afraid her sister would reject her offer of comfort.
“I’ve seen what a family should be. What an elder sibling should act like.” Lorena shook her head, as she stared at the distant town buildings rather than at her sister. “Every day I’m confronted by all that I’m not.”
“Stop it, Lo,” Phoebe said, finally reaching forward to grip her sister’s hand. “You’ve suffered. I know you have.”
Lorena nodded. “Yes, and I’ve clung to the pain like it was a security blanket. I chose suffering over love. I chose the surety of my past disappointments over any promised dreams. I’ve been a coward, Phoebe.” She took a deep breath. “And it breaks my heart to see you follow my example.”
Dropping her hand, Phoebe sat ramrod straight as she glared at her sister. “How dare you imply I’m a coward?” She flushed with her anger. “Who are you to give me advice?”
Nodding sadly, Lorena’s smile was filled with melancholy. “I relinquished my role so long ago, I don’t know how you’d ever consider any advice I have to give. But I still have advice.” She stared at Phoebe for a long moment, their matching green gazes clashing. “And I know it’s far more worthy than anything Winnifred could have told you.”
Blanching, Phoebe ducked her head. “Winnie told me the truth.”
“No,” Lorena snapped. “Winnie told you what she wanted you to accept as your truth so that you remain as miserable as she and I are. So that we remain the Miserable Mortimers. She clings to that name for us. It brings her comfort to know that none of us are any happier than she is.”
Phoebe shrugged. “She said nothing but the truth yesterday.”
“I imagine she told you that it must be so horrible to be married to a man who had no choice but to marry you. And how awful it must be to face a lifetime married to a man who would always resent you. Why should such a man ever truly care for you?” She spoke as Winnifred would, friendly but cutting. When Phoebe paled, Lorena nodded. “Can’t you hear the lies?” Lorena paused and took a deep breath. “The same lies I’ve come to understand Mama wove?”
Phoebe nodded.
“Mama’s dead, and I’ve come to realize how much she manipulated us. Me,” she swallowed. “How much she used my hurts and fears to ensure I did her bidding.” She met Phoebe’s shocked gaze, as no one ever spoke out against their mother. “Winnifred is too much like Mama.”
“How can you say that?” Phoebe whispered.
“How can’t you see that Winnie spun your fears and put them onto your husband so they were more believable to you, just like Mama would have?”
Shaking her head, Phoebe furrowed her brows, her eyes filled with doubt and pain.
Lorena cupped her sister’s face, her fingers smoothing the lines marring her brows. “She knows what you most dread, Phoebe. How could she not? She’s your sister. And rather than shelter those fears, she twisted them around and used them to hurt you and to put a wedge between you and your husband.”
A tear coursed down Phoebe’s cheek. “I know what she said was true.”
At her sister’s wailed words, Lorena made a soothing sound. “No, you don’t. You’re terrified of what you believe might be true. And you’re risking your future by throwing accusatory words at him.” She paused. “How would you feel if he said such things to you after you’d shown your steadfastness for weeks?”
When Phoebe went silent, tears coursing down her cheeks, Lorena continued. “He sat beside your bedside, night after night, begging anyone and everyone for you to improve. He stood up to Uncle, daring him to harm you or us ever again. He was eager to marry you, Phoebe.” She nodded when Phoebe stared at her in wonder. “Your husband confronted uncle with an army of O’Rourkes at his back, warning him to never speak to you again after he bruised your arm. And Ardan banned him from the café!” She nodded as Phoebe gaped at her dazedly.
“You know Mama. You know how many men she had around. As the eldest, I saw them more than you or Winnie. Never did I see a man show devotion and a dedication to her as I’ve seen Eamon show you.”
“He’ll leave,” Phoebe whispered. “They always do.”
Lorena sighed and ran a hand over the loose wisps of hair at her forehead. “Yes, he’ll leave.” At Phoebe’s sharp inhale of breath, she met her sister’s terrified gaze. “He’ll leave when he can no longer envision living in a home where he is not trusted or esteemed. You’ll push him away. And then you’ll have to live with that agony for the rest of your life.”
“Lo, what should I do? How can I find the courage?”
“Oh, Phoebe, you don’t need to find the courage. You just need to believe in yourself.” She pulled Phoebe close, and they rocked side to side for a long while as Phoebe cried. When Phoebe eased away, Lorena whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?” Phoebe asked, as she swiped at her cheeks.
“For letting me be your big sister. I’ve realized I want to be more than a woman who mourns forever. I want to be more.” She shrugged.
“You will be, Lo,” Phoebe said with a smile. “You’ll always be my big sister. Thank you.” They sat in companionable silence, before chatting about the large O’Rourke family and the few townsfolk they knew.
* * *
Phoebe sat in dazed silence after Lorena’s departure. Her head spun as she considered all that Lorena had said and had inferred. Suddenly she felt like she had a big sister again, a foreign sensation since she had been a girl.
With a start, she sensed she wasn’t alone. She looked up to meet the Madam’s inquisitive gaze. “Madam,” she whispered. “I … I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.”
Madam Nora laughed. “Few expect me to arrive on their doorstep.” She pointed to the rocking chair beside Phoebe. “May I sit?” At Phoebe’s nod, the Madam settled her eggplant-colored skirts. “Ah, what a lovely place to spend a quiet afternoon in contemplation.”
Phoebe’s gaze darted to the Madam to determine if the older woman mocked her. When she noted Madam Nora had closed her eyes and seemed at peace, Phoebe relaxed, pushing her chair into a soft rocking motion.
“Have you begun to forgive your eldest sister?” Nora murmured.
Phoebe froze, gawking at Nora. “Yes. Although I know it will take time. I have too many years of memories to overcome.”
“Memories,” Nora murmured, settling her head against the back of Eamon’s tall chair and dwarfed by it. “They are both a hindrance and a blessing. Don’t allow your coloring of what you think you recall to prevent you from having the relationship you desire. Not everything is as we remember, just as not everything will be as we wish.”
Phoebe furrowed her brows, as she thought through the Madam’s cryptic words.
“Don’t think so hard, child. You’ll give yourself a permanent frown.” Her smile bloomed. “Wrinkles come soon enough without hastening their arrival.”
Giggling, Phoebe shook her head as Nora appeared young and vivacious, although she was near forty. “Why concern yourself about Lorena?”
Nora glanced out at the backside of the burgeoning town. Although men’s voices could be heard, the perception was that they were farther away from the chaos than merely a few blocks. “I’ve known many Lorenas in my life.” She shared a lo
ng look with Phoebe. “And too many Winnifreds to count.” With a sigh, she shook her head with regret. “I wish I could say life is kind to women like Winnifred.”
“I imagine we’re a boring trio,” Phoebe said, attempting to battle her resentment at Madam Nora considering the Mortimer sisters as typical women.
Nora chuckled. “On the contrary. You, dear Phoebe, are unique. You refused to accept your fate. You fought back and surprised your uncle. He’s not used to women who aren’t docile.” Madam Nora smiled. “I’ve enjoyed watching his disappointment.”
Shaking her head in confusion, Phoebe asked, “What do you mean?”
“You were to bring him riches, darling girl. And you defied him. Now Bell is demanding compensation, and Uriah’s finding it far more difficult that he thought to free himself from the woman who latched on to him, a Mrs. Davies, and he’s on the verge of financial ruin. All in all, I’d consider that a successful summer season.”
“All the Mortimer sisters were to bring him wealth, not just me,” Phoebe protested, cringing at the guilt in her voice.
“Oh, dear, you are naive.” Nora laughed. “And you must learn to take pride in what currently shames you.” She let out a deep breath and spoke in short staccato words, as though explaining a difficult concept to a person hard of hearing. “You were the only untried sister, or didn’t you know that?” She raised an eyebrow as she watched shock course over Phoebe’s expression. “If Chaffee and Bell had attempted a virgin auction with you and your sisters—and had been paid dearly for the honor—they would have been murdered for deceiving two of the three bidders.” Shrugging, Nora murmured, “Although that might not have been such a horrible outcome for the town.”
Rubbing at her head, Phoebe whispered, “How did I have no idea? They always acted terrified to take after Mama.”
Pioneer Longing: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Four Page 23