Pioneer Yearning: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Three

by Ramona Flightner

  “Don’t cry, Niamh,” he murmured, moving awkwardly toward her. He raised his hands and then dropped them, uncertain if he should touch her or not. “I … I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell me why you left. Why you abandoned me here.” She ducked her head, as a sob burst out, and she was unsuccessful in tamping down her display of strong feelings.

  “Abandoned you?” he frowned and shook his head. “You didn’t want me, Niamh. You’ve never wanted me.” His eyes shone with the years’ worth of disappointment. As though against his will, his hand rose to caress her cheek and to smooth away her tears.

  “That’s not true,” she whispered, her gaze begging him to understand. “You told Dunmore you were at peace.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Of course I was. I was returning to Fort Benton. To my home.” He paused, his blue eyes shining brightly with trepidation and yearning. “To you.”

  Niamh flushed and backed up a step, before forcing herself to still her evasive movements. “Cormac, we can’t.”

  “Why?” he demanded. “Tell me why, dammit.” His whispered voice, filled with entreaty and longing, provoked a shiver. His hand continued to stroke her shoulder, eliciting a subtle shuddering in her.

  “You know why …” She closed her eyes, as though watching him was more than she could bear. “We killed him, Cormac.”

  His hand dropped from her, and she felt the absence of his touch, his warmth, as acutely as if he had pushed her away. “I know,” he breathed. “It’s a shame I live with every day.” He paused. “Although I find it difficult to regret you are free of him.”

  “How could we marry, knowing what we did caused him to die?” she asked, as she moved to a chair and sat. She bowed forward as a sob emerged. “Don’t you realize I’ll never be free of him? He lives on …” She shook her head.

  “In Maura,” Cormac murmured.

  “No, never in her,” Niamh said in a fierce voice. “Maura is sweet and kind and good. Everything Connor wasn’t.” She paused as she took a deep breath and swiped at her cheeks with her fingers. “I hear his taunting voice every time I try something new. Every time I hope, I hear him mocking me that I deserve all the misery I suffer.” She shook her head and flushed, as though mystified she had revealed such a personal sorrow.

  “Ah, my Niamh,” Cormac said, as he knelt in front of her, gripping her hands. “That’s his shame, love. Not yours.” He flushed at calling her love but didn’t recall the word. His eyes glowed with the deep emotion. “I hope that, someday soon, you hear another voice, telling you how beautiful and brilliant you are.” He squeezed her wrists and froze as she gasped in pain. “Niamh?”

  She tugged on her hands, but he wouldn’t free them. “’Tis nothing, Cormac.”

  When he stared at her as though he had heard that too many times in the past to believe such lies now, her shoulders slumped, and she waited as he pushed up the sleeve to her dress. Her right wrist and forearm were smooth and free of blemish. With a confused frown, he tugged on the other sleeve and froze at the purple bruising in the shape of fingers. “Niamh?”

  Grabbing his arm, she shook her head. “No. You aren’t racing out of here like a madman.”

  “Someone hurt you,” he rasped, glaring at the bruises. The word again sat heavily between them.

  “Aye,” she whispered. “But I was able to free myself.” Unable to prevent a pride-filled smile from bursting forth, she met Cormac’s surprised gaze. “Mr. Chaffee was shocked a woman would fight back.”

  “He’ll have his day of reckoning,” Cormac whispered in a menacing voice.

  “Aye, but not today.” Her hand rose to trace his cheek, as she stared deeply into his eyes. “You were worried about me,” she whispered.

  “Always. Forever,” he vowed.

  She gazed at him with yearning and wonder, her body arching toward him. Just as she was about to kiss him, she jerked away. “No! We can’t. This is wrong.”

  Cormac groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “Why, when we care for each other?” The soft exhalation of his breath elicited a shiver, and he turned his head to kiss her neck.

  “If he hadn’t seen us kissing, he wouldn’t have stormed away. He wouldn’t have gone to the Bordello and died,” Niamh breathed. She raised her gaze to meet Cormac’s, hers filled with shame and longing.

  “If he had treated you like the precious woman you are, you would never have considered kissing me,” he whispered. His gaze clouded. “Besides, we know what things were like after August. You’d never have reconciled with him.”

  She raised her hand, her fingers covering his lips, and shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk about that.”

  Cormac stared at her a long time, his gaze tormented. Finally he nodded. “Fine, for now we can act as though the events of August never occurred. But, someday, you will have to face what happened, Niamh.”

  A tear leaked down her cheek, and she rested her head against his chest. “All I feel is ashamed, and I’m so tired of feeling that way.”

  “Shh,” he whispered in her ear, as his arms gently banded around her. Although she stiffened in his arms when he first touched her, she eventually relaxed in his embrace. “You’re safe, Niamh. You’ll always be safe with me.”

  Later that day, Cormac stood on the O’Rourke’s back stoop, battling nerves and a sense of panic. Although he desperately wanted to marry Niamh, he feared she would never come to care for him as he did her. He didn’t know if he could handle a life lived in a marriage with one-sided affection. Ducking his head, he admitted to himself he would take whatever crumbs of affection Niamh would offer him and would pray that she would come to care for him with even the smallest portion of her love.

  He stood tall and rapped on the back door. With a confident smile, he nodded at Mary, who appeared shocked by his appearance. “Mrs. O’Rourke,” he murmured deferentially. “May I come in?”

  “Cormac!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, you’ve returned. You returned now. I feared …” She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “I feared for how Niamh suffered without you.”

  His eyes shone with that morsel of information at Niamh’s feelings for him. “I realized running away never solved any problems.”

  She cupped his cheeks and beamed at him, as though she were his proud mother. “You’re right, but few men have the ability to admit when they’ve been wrong.” She gave his cheeks a gentle pat. “Good for you, my lad.” She moved to the stove to pour him a cup of coffee and motioned for him to sit at the table.

  Seamus entered the kitchen, his gaze focused on a slip of paper in his hands. “Love, who was that at the door?” he asked absently.

  “Me,” Cormac said.

  Seamus’s head jerked up, and his blue eyes sparkled with delight. “Cormac,” he breathed. “You came back to us with Dunmore.” When Cormac jerked his head yes, Seamus shared a relieved smile with his wife. “But ’tis not us who you’ve come to see.” Turning toward the connecting door, he bellowed, “Niamh!”

  “Shay, what if Maura was asleep?” Mary admonished, with a hand down his arm.

  Shrugging, Seamus murmured, “Then she’d wake up, fuss, and fall back asleep again.” He pulled Mary into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “’Tis too wondrous a day to tiptoe around. ’Tis one to be lived out loud.”

  Cormac frowned, as though pondering Seamus’s pronouncement, but forgot about it the moment he saw Niamh. She appeared much as she did when she had come to his cabin, although her gaze showed her to be at peace, rather than tormented. He longed to rush to her, to take her in his arms, and to soothe himself with her presence. Instead he remained across the room, filled with longing. “Niamh,” he murmured.

  “Cormac,” she breathed. “You’ve returned then.”

  He fought a bemused smile, as she pretended this was their reunion, and nodded. “I found I had left something important behind in Fort Benton.”

  Standing tall and with a proud tilt to
her chin, Niamh stared at him with defiance. “Your oxen?”

  Cormac burst out laughing. “Aye, I left my oxen here, you daft woman. But they aren’t why I returned.” He took a step toward her, watching for any sign of fear or hesitancy on her part. “I returned because I knew I didn’t want to live without you. The moment I left, I was filled with grief at the thought I might never see you again, Niamh. And I was filled with fear at what you might feel compelled to do to keep Maura safe.”

  Any teasing had faded, and he stared at her with ardent solemnity. “Let me be the man who cares for you and Maura. Let me be the one you turn to when you need help. Let me be the man who you gift with your smiles and laughter. Please marry me.”

  Niamh stared at him with wide stunned eyes at his proposal, her chest heaving, as though she had just run across the plains. Her gaze flickered to her parents, and Seamus ushered a quietly sobbing Mary from the room. When they were alone, Niamh whispered, “What will you do when you are angry?”

  Cormac reared back as though she had just backhanded him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and met her petrified gaze. “If you don’t know me by now, Niamh, you’ll never know who I am. But I’ll give you the words you need.” He paused. “I promise I will never strike you or Maura. Ever. I will never speak to you in a degrading way that batters your confidence in ways physical blows never can.” He took another deep breath. “I might yell when I get angry, but it will never be at you. It will be at fate, at the men I work with, at my slow-moving oxen.”

  “I’m not worth yelling at?” she asked.

  “Oh, love,” he whispered, as he took a step closer, cradling her cheeks in his palms. His ardent gaze bore into hers. “You are precious beyond words. And it’s because you are precious that you should never be yelled at.” He waited for a moment before murmuring, “I promise I will do everything I can to ease you of your fear of me. Of men.”

  She smiled and pushed herself into his embrace. “I don’t fear you, Cormac. I fear how you might change once we marry. Once you control me.”

  He chuckled. “Ah, my little love, soon you will come to understand that I have no desire for control. I yearn for respect, admiration, and love.” His eyes shone with hope at his last words.

  “As do I,” she whispered, holding him closer. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Cormac.” She wriggled until she was out of his tight hold and staring into his gaze, with only his hands on her shoulders. Although she appeared afraid, she battled her fear and whispered, “There’s no one else I would ever agree to marry. Only you, Cormac.”

  Ardan stood staring into space, his gaze distant as he looked out the polished windows facing Front Street of Fort Benton. His hair hung longer than when he had married Deirdre a few months ago, although not as long as Declan’s before he had departed for Saint Louis. His beard was neatly trimmed, and he looked startingly like a younger version of Da.

  Now that it was nearly November, the streets were mainly quiet, and the café had business for breakfast and lunch. He and Deirdre preferred to spend almost every dinner with his family, with the rare night at home for the two of them. Although he missed working with his brothers and father, the dinners kept him in the loop with store activities, and he relished running the business with his wife. With a contented sigh, he flicked the lock on the front door of the empty café and spun on his heels to return to the kitchen to help wash dishes and to flirt with his wife.

  He stilled when he saw Niamh standing a few feet inside the café, having entered through the kitchen. “You’re as quiet as a cat,” he said, as he studied her. He set down the rag he used to swipe down the tables and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to hear what had brought Niamh by.

  “I found I needed to speak with you,” she blurted out.

  “Aye?” he said, with a tilt of his head.

  “I need to apologize.”

  “What’s happened?” He took a frantic step in the direction of the kitchen. “Deir?” he called out.

  “I’m fine,” his wife’s distant voice yelled back.

  Niamh glared at him with momentary indignation. “I never would hurt Deirdre.” She huffed out a sigh and closed her eyes. “I meant to be apologizin’ to you, and I’m about to start another fight.” She opened her eyes to find him watching her with a glint of amusement in his gaze. “’Tisn’t funny, Ard.”

  “Of course it is,” he said with a wry smile. “’Tis how we’ve always been.” He sobered. “Until recently.”

  She nodded and gripped her hands together. “Aye,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” When he made no move to accept her apology, she blurted out, “I’m sorry I acted so horribly to you when you first showed interest in Deirdre. I’m sorry I ever thought you would have hurt her.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I was jealous.”

  “Jealous?” he whispered, as he inched forward.

  She met his confused gaze with resignation. “I knew I’d never have a man as good as you, who would be as concerned and eager to see me. And I lashed out.” She ducked her head. “I’m sorry, Ardan.”

  “Oh, you wee eejit,” he breathed, as he tugged her into his arms. He rocked her from side to side as he used to do when they were children, heralding a memory she had buried after they thought their mother had died, and Niamh had refused comfort from everyone. Rather than push away as he expected, she clung to him. “You’ve always had that man. You never paid attention.”

  “I am now,” she said in a soft voice. She squeezed him and then backed up a step. “I’ve spoken with Cormac. He’s back.” She nodded, as he stared at her with delight, unable to hide the wonder in her gaze. “We’ll marry.”

  “Oh, Niamh, finally,” he breathed, pulling her close to swing her in a circle. At her startled shriek, he laughed. After setting her down, he stared into her shining eyes, filled with joy and anticipation, no fear or trepidation visible. “Finally you’ll know what it is to be cherished.”

  “By a husband, yes,” she said. “You forgive me?”

  “I forgave you months ago, Niamh,” he said, smiling when she gaped at him. “I only hope you can forgive me.”

  “For what?” she whispered. “You’ve never done anything to harm me.” She ducked her head at admitting her greatest fear.

  “And I hope I never will.” He brushed back a wisp of her hair. “I vowed to keep Maggie safe, but I didn’t have the ability to see how much you suffered.” He clamped his jaw in anger. “If I’d known, Niamh …” He broke off, shaking his head.

  “Then the sheriff would have visited for you, and Deirdre would be asleep in a lonely bed. I’m trying to accept it all worked out as it should have.”

  “Aye,” Ardan murmured. “An’ I pray, every night, that you feel no guilt for being free of such a man and for finding love with his brother.”

  A tear coursed down her cheek, as she gazed at her beloved eldest brother. “You pray for me?”

  Smiling, he swiped away her tear. “Of course I do. You’re precious to me, Niamh.” He pulled her close for a moment and then kissed her head. “Come. Let’s tell Deir your news. She’ll be over the moon for you.”

  Mary knocked on Nora’s bedroom door in the late afternoon, waiting as she heard the soft scrape of a chair and then gentle footsteps. Mary smiled sardonically. For all the woman was a Bordello owner, she was quite genteel. When Nora opened the door, Mary’s smile was filled with warmth. “Hello, Nora. I did not see you at breakfast and wanted to ensure you had all you needed.”

  Nora chuckled. “Every day you visit my room, and every day it’s the same. I worked until this morning, had breakfast at the Bordello, and came here to sleep.” She paused as she saw a triumphant gleam in Mary’s eyes. “What’s occurred?” She motioned for Mary to enter her room. After Mary sat on the desk chair, Nora perched on the bed.

  Mary stared at her with a wondrous joy. “Cormac returned. He realized his error in leaving Niamh and came back to her. He wants to marry her and to keep her and Maura safe.”

&
nbsp; Nora closed her eyes, as though saying a silent prayer. “Oh, what marvelous news.” She stared at Mary with unveiled envy. “You and your daughter are most fortunate.”

  Frowning with befuddlement, Mary shook her head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “You have the ability to provoke a deep, abiding loyalty and love in a man. Few women can.” Nora smiled. “And you chose good men.”

  Mary flushed. “Well, we both had a marriage that taught us what we never wanted to suffer again.” She shared a long look with Nora. “I know you’ve spoken with Niamh. I know she has seemed calmer, less conflicted, after you speak with her. As a mother, ’tis hard to admit she might need someone else’s counsel, other than my own. However, my greatest wish is to see Niamh happy and free of the burden of her past. Thank you, Nora, for all you’ve done while you’ve been here.”

  Nora flushed. “I’ve done little.”

  “No, you’ve done everything. You ensured Niamh wouldn’t lose Maura. You ensured Niamh continued to heal and continued to believe that a future with a man like Cormac was possible, even after all she’d suffered.” Mary shared a long look with Nora. “Thank you.”

  “You have it all backward, Mary. There is little I wouldn’t do to help the O’Rourkes. Seamus showed me tremendous loyalty and friendship when most people treated me like I was little more than a piece of garbage for my profession.”

  Mary stiffened at the mention of her husband and then relaxed. “Seamus reassured me that you were only ever friends.” At the answering affirmation in Nora’s gaze, any residual doubt eased. “I’ve always wanted to thank you for befriending him when he felt so alone. When I wasn’t here to comfort him. He’s not a man to be without a woman’s gentling care.”

  “He was, every day, until you returned, Mary. Every woman he spoke with was a poor substitute for the woman he wanted. Never doubt that,” Nora said.

  Mary smiled and rose. “I thank you again, Nora. Although I know you are eager to leave for home, I would ask that you remain here until the wedding. I wouldn’t want Mr. Chaffee or the sheriff to believe they had cause to create any more mischief.”