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Pioneer Dream: The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga Page 4


  “Oh, Kevin, what are we to do?” She flung her arms around his middle and pressed against him.

  Kissing her neck, he breathed into her ear, “Enjoy every moment we have together. And pray we have many more once we disembark.” He turned his head, his lips brushing over her cheeks. “Kiss me, love,” he murmured. “Kiss me as I’ve dreamed about you these past weeks.”

  She raised a hand, playing her hands through his silky auburn hair and kissed him chastely on the lips. When he bit gently at her bottom lip, she gasped and then gasped again as he deepened the kiss. Tightening her hold on him, she clung to him as he pulled her more closely to him. The sound of a door slamming forced them apart, their breaths rasping as they gasped for air. “I never knew a kiss could be like that,” she whispered and then flushed at her naiveté.

  He chuckled and cupped her cheek. “I’ll be forever grateful I was the first to kiss you properly.” When loud voices of men traveling with them filtered closer and closer, he backed up a step. “You should return to your stateroom, Aileen. Stay safe.”

  Raising her arm, she ran her fingers over his cheek, her thumb tracing his lips. “I’ll dream of you again tonight, Kevin.”

  “Aye, an’ I of you, lass,” he rasped. “Go,” he said urgently as boot steps neared.

  She spun away, entering the doorway just before they would have been caught. She paused in the hallway to the staterooms, taking a moment to calm herself and fix her hair before she faced her aunt. However, she knew her inner turmoil would not abate and her predicament filled her with agony. How could she keep her promise to her aunt and remain true to herself and the man she was growing to love?

  Kevin stood outside on the rear deck of the steamboat, hidden by the stack of crates. He stared at the stars and tried to forget the previous evenings he had spent with Aileen. After tomorrow, when they arrived in Fort Benton, everything would change. He sighed as he fought an insistent ache in his chest at the thought of Aileen walking away from him tomorrow. Of having no right to talk with her again. To kiss her again.

  Every evening for the past week, he and Aileen had found a way to spend a quiet moment together. Some evenings it had been more than a moment. Her aunt was a sound sleeper, and Aileen snuck out to steal away to be with him. Mostly they talked. About their dreams. Their cherished memories. He’d shied away from talking about his fears, and he now realized that was a mistake. Although he had held her in his arms and kissed her, the opportunity for true intimacy had been squandered due to his desire to seem impervious to the pain of his mother’s death and the consequences of her loss.

  He stared at the sky, the stars’ brilliance scattered overhead and swore under his breath at his stupidity. How had he ever thought he could flirt with her, talk with her, and kiss her without becoming emotionally involved? That wasn’t how he was made.

  “Eejit,” he muttered to himself. Ardan had been correct, but Kevin hadn’t been able to take his brother’s advice and keep his distance.

  “Why are you an eejit?” a soft voice asked. “And what is an eejit?”

  He spun to face Aileen, a broad smile spreading as he saw her. “An idiot,” he breathed as he looked into her eyes, lit by the moon and an inner happiness. He raised a hand to swipe at a wisp of hair on her cheek and let his fingers caress her cheek. “Hello, Aileen.”

  She flushed at his gentle touch and the silky sound of his voice. “Kevin,” she breathed. “You’re not an idiot.”

  He shook his head. “I was. I am.” He dropped his hand, his expression softening as he saw her disappointment that he was no longer touching her. “I stood here, staring at the stars, wishing for more time with you. Wishing this boat trip never had to end.”

  “Don’t,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him until she was nearly in his arms.

  His gaze stared deeply into hers. “How can you doubt I’ll miss you? That I won’t regret, every day, that I’m not the one you’ll turn to.”

  She flushed at the intensity in his eyes. “Promise me, that if the man I’m supposed to marry is hideous, that you’ll speak out.”

  He smiled. “I’ve been prayin’, for days now, that he’s a one eyed, peg legged ogre that you can’t bear to look at.” He chuckled as she giggled at his teasing. After a long moment he sobered. “I promise you, if the man your aunt made her bargain with is horrible, I’ll speak up.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “You deserve someone who will treasure you, Aileen.”

  She smiled tremulously.

  He took a stuttering breath, kissing her palm. “What if he’s a good man, but I still want to speak out?” he whispered.

  Her eyes shone with regret and futile hope. “I promised my aunt I would try. That I wouldn’t foil her plans because of an infatuation.”

  He dropped her hand and backed as far away from her as possible in the tight space. “Is that what this is to you? An infatuation?” He turned to stare out at the water shining in the moonlight, ignoring the shouts of delight from the men who won at cards and the groans of those who lost. He shuddered as she touched his shoulder.

  “It’s too soon to tell what this is. Isn’t it?” she asked as she looked over his shoulder, trying to see his expression.

  “No,” he murmured. “Not for me. I knew the moment I met you that you were special. That you were unlike any woman I’d met before.” He took a deep breath. “But I will respect what you want, Aileen. I won’t ruin your dream of marriage. Of family. Of pleasin’ your aunt.” He clenched his fists, gripping the railing tight rather than clutching her to him as he wished. “I will stand aside and allow you to meet the man your aunt has picked out for you.”

  She stiffened at the implied criticism of her aunt. “She wants what is best for me, Kevin.”

  He turned to study her. “Does she? Truly? For I do not see carin’ when I look at her. I see connivin’. I see a cunnin’ mind that plots how to best help herself. But I don’t see any true concern for you.”

  “I have to believe she cares,” she whispered. “For if she didn’t …” Her voice faded away as she ducked her head.

  “Come, lass, don’t cry,” he said as he pulled her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He ran his strong fingers over her back, his soothing touch calming her and urging her closer into his embrace. “Let me hold you.” He didn’t say one last time, but he thought it.

  “Promise me this wasn’t a game,” she breathed. “Some competition with your brother or a way to pass your time on the boat.”

  “Never,” he said as his arms tightened around her. He breathed in her scent of soap and a hint of roses and hoped he could remember it forever. Feared he would be haunted by it forever. “I’ll miss this. The simple joy of holding you in my arms. Of knowing you are safe because you are here, with me.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice tear laden. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  He cupped her head in his hand and whispered in her ear. “It can’t be any harder than it is because it feels like my heart’s breakin.’” His accent thickened as he spoke. “I can’t bear the thought of seein’ you with another man.”

  She moved so she could look into his ardent gaze. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I wish it could be different than it is. But I have to meet this man. I have to at least try. For I can’t pay back the money he expended to bring my aunt and me to Fort Benton.” She flushed as she revealed the truth. “If I break the engagement, all monies must be returned in full. That would beggar me.”

  He stiffened in her arms as it would beggar him as well. “Feck,” he breathed. “I beg your pardon. I never meant to swear.”

  She giggled. “I know you swear. I’ve heard you and Mr. O’Rourke talk and you swear more than you think you do.”

  He gripped her shoulders. “I don’t have the money to pay him back either. My father does, but he shouldn’t be expected to use what rightfully belongs to all of the O’Rourkes for me.” He looked at her with abject devastation. “What can we do?�
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  She leaned on her toes and kissed him softly on the lips. “Enjoy right now and never forget what we were to each other,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “’Twill never be enough,” he said as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The desperation and desire of the kiss momentarily overpowered his anguish at the realization he would lose her tomorrow.

  Chapter 3

  Fort Benton, Montana Territory, May 30, 1865

  The steamboat captain ably maneuvered the barge toward the Fort Benton levee, docking a short distance from the shore. Small boats ferried the passengers and then the cargo to shore. Kevin waited on deck as he watched Aileen and her aunt accept the deferential aid of one of the crewmen as they boarded one of the first crafts to approach the steamboat. Smiling as she laughed while grabbing her hat as a burst of wind nearly tore it off her head, he fought a pang at the thought she was going to meet her fiancée. “Lucky bastard,” he muttered.

  “Don’t let Da catch you talking like that,” Ardan said as he crouched down with his hands hanging off the edge of the railing, mimicking his brother’s pose. He looked in the direction of his brother’s gaze and sighed. “Give her up, lad. There’s no hope.”

  “It doesn’t seem to matter,” Kevin murmured. “I hate that all I can do is hope, whoever the man, he’s a decent man.”

  Ardan slapped him on his back, stood tall and pushed him toward the row of people lining up to disembark. Soon, they were bobbing along on a tiny craft. When they reached shore, they waved at their father, standing tall as he beamed at his boys.

  “Lads!” Seamus exclaimed. “I feared you’d missed the boat.” He held out his hand, tugging them up and then grabbing each into a strong hug before releasing them. “Come, we have our cargo to take care of and then there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Seamus O’Rourke stood nearly six feet tall with a broad chest and muscles that rippled under his checkered shirt from the hard manual labor he insisted on doing. His black hair was shot with gray and his trimmed beard held more gray than black. His blue eyes sparkled with joy to have his two eldest sons home after their adventure in Saint Louis. “Home’s not been the same without you lads.”

  He slung an arm over Kevin’s shoulder and walked with them toward their brother, Declan, who waited nearby with a wagon and team of mules. Declan greeted his brothers and soon they were busy hauling crates and loading them on the wagon while Declan and Seamus listened with avid interest to the elder O’Rourke boys’ tales of the big city. When the wagon was loaded, Declan drove the wagon to the warehouse with Ardan and Kevin walking the short distance to meet him there. Seamus remained at the levee to chat with the newly arrived and the captain.

  When Seamus saw his boys walking back from the warehouse, he slapped the captain on the shoulder and met his sons near the bustling levee. “You did well, lads,” Seamus said with a smile. “These supplies will get us through the season.”

  Kevin shared a long look with Ardan. “I thought so, Da, but many more men are intent on traveling to the Territory than we expected. I fear we will run out of supplies before we outfit all of them.”

  Seamus rubbed at his temple. “Aye, a good problem to have lads. We purchased all we could, and our warehouse will be full.” He looked from Kevin to Ardan. “Is more coming on other steamboats?”

  “Aye,” Ardan said. “The supplies should be here in a week or two. But then I fear we won’t have anything more until next year when the steamboats run again.” He shared a look with his father as they knew they were at the mercy of the mercurial Missouri River. Steamboat captains risked the nearly 2400 river mile trip to Fort Benton because of the lure of riches to be extracted from the Montana Territory, established in 1864. However, boats could only travel when the river roared with plenty of water from the spring run offs after the ice had melted. Thus, their season was very short in Fort Benton.

  Seamus shrugged. “If there are that many men intent on purchasin’ our wares, they might find them a wee bit more expensive.” He winked at his sons. “Come, let’s not worry about business right now. I have a surprise for you.” He slapped a hand on Kevin’s and then Ardan’s shoulders, urging them into motion.

  Aileen walked a few paces behind her aunt after disembarking the dinghy that ferried them from the steamboat. Even though her aunt muttered and proclaimed her distress every few seconds, Aileen largely ignored her, gaping at the scene around her. She had never envisioned such a rough, wild, untamed place in all her schoolgirl imaginings of the frontier town. Naively she had thought it would be similar to, albeit smaller than, Albany. Or slightly less tame than Saint Louis. She couldn’t have been more mistaken. Never could she have imagined such a rowdy, seemingly lawless place with an abundance of uncivilized men. “I should have heeded Kevin’s warning,” she whispered to herself.

  The river rumbled by Front Street with tall brown cliffs standing sentinel on the other side of the river. The anchored steamboats swayed in the river alongside a flat part of the riverbank called the levee where numerous small craft bobbed in the river as they made trips to and from the steamboats. A multitude of men yelled and worked in tandem to unload the cargo. Wagons lined up along the dusty, rut filled road that separated the dock area from the single row of businesses across from the river and levee area.

  She noted a laundry, a barber, a general store, a café, and a hotel. She was certain that with the number of men in town, there would be numerous saloons. As she gaped at her surroundings, she saw few women walking on the uneven, plank boardwalks in front of the buildings across the street. Men loitered in front of buildings, chatting or watching the spectacle at the levee, as though biding their time before journeying further into the territory.

  With wide eyed fascination, Aileen stared as men who hadn’t seen a wash in weeks, if not months, ambled past her. Most wore a type of hat she’d never seen before that had a brim all the way around to protect their face from the sun. Many wore buckskin pants with cotton shirts where the top few buttons were undone, revealing tufts of chest hair. She flushed as she dropped her gaze for a moment as she’d never seen a man before in such a state of undress. All the men were tanned a bronze brown or darker, unless they were fair skinned and then they looked as red as a raspberry. A few men who appeared as though they were Indian traipsed through town, their gazes averted, their long, black hair tied back into a rope down their backs. One had a feather by his ear and she itched to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  She tripped as she walked across the uneven dirt road while following her aunt to the hotel. A firm hand caught her before she could tumble to the ground. “Thank you,” she whispered, flushing as she saw the man stare at her with interest. He was a large beast of a man with broad chest, a wild look in his brown eyes and unkempt hair. He looked like a madman from one of the novels she read, but realized he appeared no differently than many of the men on the street. She took a stuttering breath as she recalled Kevin’s words about the men of this town. This man in front of her spoke a few words in a French accent and then released her arm.

  Scurrying after her aunt, she ignored the appreciative stares of the men she passed. When she stepped into the hotel, she heaved out a sigh of relief. However, any reprieve was short lived as her aunt propelled her through the hotel entryway so quickly she had no chance to look at it. Before she knew it, she stood in their room on the second floor with a rear-facing window.

  “It should be quieter,” her aunt intoned. “No God fearing woman should have to listen to those heathens as they carouse through the streets at all hours.”

  Her aunt paused in her tirade as their trunks were delivered. When the door was shut, she stared at her niece with a disapproving glower. “Now, Aileen, you must work a miracle. Your betrothed will be here in an hour, along with a few of his family members. You must wash and attempt to look attractive.”

  Aileen grimaced at her aunt’s criticism. “I shall wear the blue dress,” she said. When her aunt woul
d have complained, Aileen glared at her. “If you want me to look my best, then let me.”

  Aileen spun away from her aunt to rummage through the larger of her trunks that she hadn’t had access to during their voyage on their journey up the river. She had only had a small travel case in their cabin. She pushed clothes aside and reached the bottom of the trunk with no blue dress in sight. “Aunt, what have you done?” she whispered.

  “I saw no reason to make a spectacle of you when you were already promised.”

  Aileen stared at the trunk filled with her ugly, serviceable dresses from the past five years. Some were threadbare and all were dull and indistinguishable from the next. None of the beautiful dresses she had sewn for herself over the past year were inside. “What did you do with them?” she asked as she battled tears. She faced her aunt, anger and incredulousness battling for supremacy as she fisted her hands at her side. “This is why you insisted on packing my trunk! I’m such a gullible fool. I thought you wanted to help me!”

  Her aunt stood with shoulders back and a look of betrayal on her face at her niece’s perceived disloyalty. “I thought you would rejoice in the fact I was able to recoup some of the cost I have endured—yes, endured—these many years caring for you. I never suspected you would be so selfish that you would wish to wear clothes better suited to a call girl than to a woman on the verge of marriage.”

  Aileen swiped at the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I’ll always be grateful to you, aunt, for all you did for me. For never sending me to an orphanage.” She took a deep breath. “But those dresses were mine. They were beautiful and perfect and special. I paid for the needle and cloth, I worked late into the night and never shirked my duties around your house, and I dreamed of wearing them when I met my betrothed.” She turned away before she said any more. Yanking out a faded, serviceable dun colored dress that was little different from what she currently wore, she began to strip out of her travel clothes. She knew it was vain of her, but she wanted to wear something special when she met the man she’d marry.