Her Irish Surrender (6 page)

“Grappling hook!” Mr. Walker gasped. “Great Scott, man! What are you planning to do?”

“Well, now ye see, Mr. Walker,” Lorcan began, his brogue suddenly thick. “Mrs. Fitzsimmons is prone to bouts of delusion.  Once I had to rescue her off a barn roof!”

Miss
Dermont’s eyes grew wider.

Lorcan forced back a smile and continued on. “Another time, she was trapped by a pack of, well, let me just sa
y, they were no gentlemen. Dogs they were, nothing but dogs…”

Mr. Walker looked at Miss Dermont, aghast. “Well don’t just stand there man, let’s be off!”

Mr. Van Cleet had his face in one hand by this time, and shook his head.

Lorcan shook his own, not sure if the dramatic Mr. Walker had caught on yet.  If Mrs. Fitzsimmons was in any real danger, he’d have shot out of the store to her rescue, not stand here being gabby about it. He took one last quick look at Miss Dermont, who stood with her mouth half open, brow furrowed in confusion. He caught her eye, and a tiny gasp escaped her as their eyes locked. And Lorcan, for the first time since her arrival, felt his heart warm.

He spun on his boot heel and hurried from the shop.

Mr. Walker looked between Miss Dermont and Lorcan’s retreating form, then gave a dramatic wave of his hand. “Right then, we’re off!” With that, he was out the door after him.

As soon as the shop door closed, Mrs. Brody let loose a snort of laughter.
Mrs. Brown was quick to join her.

“What’s so funny?” asked Adaline.

Mr. Van Cleet gave her a broad smile. “Mrs. Brody, Mrs. Brown. Don’t you think it would be wise to send Miss Dermont to help the lads?  After all, Mrs. Fitzsimmons is bound to be frightened after her ordeal, and a woman’s touch might be needed.”

“Oh, Mr. Van Cleet, you are such a …” Mrs. Brody chuckled, then sobered. “You’re quite right.” She turned to Adaline. Best fetch your shawl dearie, and go help. As soon as you have her, bring her back here. She’ll be wanting her breakfast I’m sure.”

“Breakfast?” Adaline asked. What was going on?  Unless … Rather than think on it further, she did as suggested and went to a coat rack behind the counter and reached for her shawl.  Wrapping it around her shoulders, she took one last look at the amused faces staring back at her, and left the shop.  From the forced looks of sincerity on their faces, Mrs. Fitzsimmons had to be quite the lady, or perhaps something more. 

And she was.

By the time Adaline reached the boarding house and went through the back gate, Lorcan was already half way up the enormous oak tree that graced the yard.  Mrs. Fitzsimmons, as Adaline began to guess on the walk over, was near the top branches and wailing as any cat would in her predicament.  But it wasn’t just Mrs. Fitzsimmons who was in a fix, but Lorcan as well.  Adaline watched him slip, and cling to a branch
for dear life.  If he fell, he could be injured or worse.

She sucked in a worried breath and ran to the base of the tree, ignoring Mr. Walker. “Mr. Brody! What are you doing?”

“I told him not to go up there,” Mr. Walker put in.

She gave him a single glance,
then returned her attention to above. “Can’t she come down on her own?”

“Mrs. Fitzsimmons likes being rescued,” he said as he got himself situated, then continued his climb. “I’ve kept count. This makes the fifth time this month I’ve saved her from death’s door.”

Adaline took a step back to better see what was happening, and clasped her hands before her.  She didn’t realize until then, she’d been holding her breath. The sight of the big man up in the branches, and knowing what could happen should he fall, was almost too much.  As was the fact this hulk of a man was going to all this trouble to rescue a cat. 

“C’mon now, Mrs. Fitzsimmons,” Lorcan coax
ed overhead. “Don’t ye know yer breakfast is waiting? Where have ye been the last few days anyway?”

The sound of his brogue sent a chill up her spine, and she took another step back to better see his progress.

“What a fool,” Mr. Walker mumbled.

Adaline didn’t look at him, instead keeping her focus on Lorcan. “How high up is he?”

“A good thirty feet I’d say. You wouldn’t catch me up there for a silly animal.”

She looked at him
. “Perhaps she’s part of the family.”

He stared at her, his brow furrowed. “Miss Dermont, you’ll find animals have a purpose, and if they don’t perform it, they’re not worth
having, let alone making them part of any family.”

“I think it’s commendable what he’s doing,” she stated without looking at him agai
n. She could see him out the corner of her eye, his face locked in indecision. 

“Well, if you insist upon heroics, I’ll not see you disappointed,” he said and stepped to the base of the tree. “When you have her,” he yelled, “Toss her down.”

Adaline pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure if she should be amused or upset with him.  The man was pleasant at dinner the night before, and held everyone’s interest with his tales of Colorado at breakfast that morning. But now she wasn’t sure what to make of him. His interest in her was not subtle, and she would have to decide what to do about him if he continued to make his intentions known.

 
Meooooow

Adaline’s attention went to the rescue attempt overhead. “Are you alright, Mr. Brody?”  Though there were no new leaves on the tree, the thickness of some of the branches made it hard to see.

“
Mrs. Fitzsimmons likes to make a knight work to win her!” Lorcan called down. 

Adaline smiled at his remark.  “Perhaps she’s been reading too many fairy tales.  If she saw you fight a dragon more often, she wouldn’t make you go on such impossible quests.”

He stopped climbing, and looked down at her. “Aye, but there’s not a dragon to be found. Trees are more to her liking.”

“Excuse me, Miss Dermont,
” Mr. Walker interrupted. “May I escort you back to the bookshop? I’m sure you have more important things to attend to than watch this man drag a cat out of a tree.”

She stared at him a moment and pursed her lips before she spoke. “No
, thank you, Mr. Walker. I’ll stay.”

He looked at her, and
shook his head. “Good day then, Miss Dermont. I’ll see you at dinner?”

She smiled, but said nothing. He turned to leave, but not before taking one last look up the tree. “Good luck … Mrs. Fitzsimmons!”

Several twigs fell around him and he darted out of the way of the falling debris.  Adaline couldn’t help but giggle.

“Good day, Miss Dermont,” he said flatly, and left.  By the time he was out the gate and around the side
of the house, she heard Lorcan begin his decent.

“Oh,” she breathed as she took in the sight of him scampering down the tree, the cat over one shoulder like any damsel in distress. She laughed at the sight the closer he got.  Mrs. Fitzsimmons spied her and gave a small “meow” as Lorcan climbed down.  The cat was huge, white, with a grey face and a large patch of the same color on the back of her neck. She had the most beautiful green eyes Adaline had ever seen, and the animal was looking right at her.

“Now, ye wee beastie!” Lorcan scolded as his feet hit the ground. “Try to stay out of trouble from now on.”  He turned, the cat still over his shoulder, and smiled triumphantly at Adaline.  Mrs. Fitzsimmons tried to squirm her way around to face front, but Lorcan held her in place. “She’s usually easy to deal with, but there are times …”

Adaline again giggled. “I can see that. May I hold her?”

“Certainly, if you don’t mind cat hair on your dress.”

“I don’t mind, let me have her.”

Lorcan peeled Mrs. Fitzsimmons off his shoulder, and handed her over.  “She’s heavier than she looks,” he told her.

He was right. Adaline’s eyes widened at the weight in her arms. “My goodness, but you are a … solid kitty.”

“We like to think of her as large boned,” Lorcan chuckled.

Adaline shifted Mrs. Fitzsimmons in her arms. “She’s adorable. Where did you get her?”

“We didn’t, she got us.”

Adaline raised a curious brow.

“She just showed up one day, came in, and took over. My folks love her, and she’s been with us ever since.”

“When did
this happen?”

“About a year ago,” he said and scratched the cat’s head. “She’s a good mouser, and likes to lounge about the shop. Sometimes though, she gets it in her head to do things like this.”

Adaline smiled. “When was the last time?”

“Remember the barn incident I mentioned?”

She nodded, her smile broadening.

“That was real.  Must have been five dogs barking at her from the ground
.  Made me miss a fi … er, an appointment.”

“Did you do that to him?” Adaline scolded as she cuddled the animal.  Mrs. Fitzsimmons began to purr loudly, as if in answer. Adaline smiled mischievously and held the cat to her chin. “Did he deserve it?”

“Hey now, can a man not speak in his own defense?”

“Oh, so you did deserve it?”

“I … well, maybe.”

Adaline pressed her lips together a moment, then laughed. Lorcan joined her, and Mrs. Fitzsimmons, continued to purr.

Five

It felt good to laugh. Not th
at Lorcan never did, but laughing with Miss Dermont was preferable to laughing with say, Finn, or Mr. Cotter from the mercantile and definitely better than Mr. McPhee. As soon as he did any laughing with him, he got his face bashed in, McPhee doing most of his laughing right before a fight. Miss Dermont was definitely much better to laugh with, prettier too.

He watched her snuggle Mrs. Fitzsimmons and had a flash vision of her with a child in her arms. It came out of nowhere, and he almost jerked at the sight of it.
His chest tightened for a scant second, and he swallowed.

“We should get her back to the shop,” Miss Dermont suggested. “Your mother told me to
bring her once you were done with the ah … rescue.”

Lorcan smiled. “Ol Mrs. Fitzsimmons is a mischievous one. We’ll bring her back, but it’s only a matter of time before she’s off again.”

Miss Dermont smiled before she turned toward the gate. “How long was she gone this time?”

“A few days, which is strange, she’s never left home for more than one at the most.” He stopped her, opened the gate,
and let her precede him. “Maybe she has a suitor.”

“Oh my. You’d best prepare for the result of that!”

“Aye, just what I need, more mouths to feed.”

  She stopped and waited for him to walk beside her. “She can’t eat that much.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said with an exaggerated nod. They walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the shop. Once inside, Miss Dermont set the cat on the floor. Mrs. Fitzsimmons took off like a shot to the back of the store, and up the stairs.

Miss Dermont laughed in delight and clapped her hands together. “Someone is happy to be home!”

“Running straight to her milk no doubt.
Maither
will have it waiting for her. Sometimes I think that cat has it better than I do.”

“Oh come now, Mr. Brody, I think your mother holds you in higher regard than a kitty.”

He looked down at her, his expression flat. “Don’t be too sure, Miss Dermont. After you’ve been around for awhile, you’ll see.”

She looked away. “Do you expect me to be around … for awhile, Mr. Brody?”

He watched as she turned back to him, her eyes shining with something he could not identify. Was it defiance? No, not that. But it held a spark, a fight, and he liked it. He smiled. “That’s up to you, Miss Dermont.” He went to the counter and straightened a random stack of books. “I cannot make you stay, or go.”

Guilt suddenly assailed him. Hadn’t he already tried to make her go? Yet here she was, standing before him with an innocence that beguiled him, and a quiet strength of heart that he realized didn’t strike out in anger at what he’d done, though she did say a f
ew things, he recalled. But at the time, he’d deserved it. Now however, the pretty little thing was conveying in a single look, that she didn’t need him, that being there was because
she
made the decision to be. Of course, the fact his mother hired her on helped, but even if she hadn’t been added to their midst, he was sure she’d have had no problem finding work somewhere. “Do you cook, Miss Dermont?” he asked without thinking.

He froze waiting for her to answer. He wasn’t even sure why he asked.

  She smiled. “Not as well as I’d like.”

“Oh.” He picked up the stack and studied the spines. “Looks like Mrs. O’Leary
was in again.”

“Mrs. O’Leary?”

“Aye, she comes in, finds three or four books on the same subject, looks through them, and leaves.”

“Does she ever buy anything?”

“No, she’s a widow and hasn’t much money. We don’t mind.”

  She followed him as he made his way to the shelf where the books belonged. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Aye, we try.  When we first got this place, my mother gave away more than she sold. Took her heart awhile to figure out giving away the store wasn’t going to feed us. So now she bakes.”

“I see,” she said softly. “Cookies are more affordable than books?”

He shrugged, “We break even on the cookies.”

She laughed at that, her eyes bright. “Speaking of which, I should earn my keep, and get to work.”

He watched her a moment, and took in the few wisps of hair that framed her face. “Aye,” he agreed. “I as well.” She turned to retrieve the feather duster.  He watched as she went about the simple task of cleaning the shelves and stacks, and decided he didn’t feel like going to McPhee’s later for some practice. It was much nicer to watch Miss Dermont do her work. He smiled at the thought, and returned to his place behind the counter.

* * *

Adaline walked back to the boarding house, a dreamy smile on her face. The day had been pleasant, and she enjoyed it more than she thought she would.  She and Lorcan Brody may have gotten off to a rough start, but today made up for it, and she was already looking forward to going to work tomorrow.

She held the book Lorcan suggested she read, and fingered the spine as she walked.  She’d heard of it, but had never read
Alice’s Adventure’s in Wonderland.
When she asked why he suggested it, he told her it was one of Mrs. Fitzsimmon’s favorites. She’d burst out laughing in a most un-lady like manner, that seemed to delight him, and that in turn made her smile. She’d been smiling ever since. She almost hated to go inside the boarding house and become engaged by others. But she couldn’t very well stand outside on the front porch all night, so in she went.

“Why, Miss Dermont, how was your day?” asked Mr. Dixon as he came down the stairs.

“Very well, thank you. And yours?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid. But I’m sure some of Mrs. Brown’s fried chicken will cheer me up.”

“I’m sorry to hear your day disagreed with you,” she said.

“It was either that, or
I
disagreed with my day, I’m not sure which.”

They both laughed at the remark as Polly Van Cleet came through the door. “Good evening, am I late for dinner?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Dixon said. “But where is Mr. Van Cleet?”

“He’s in a meeting with some gentlemen
from Portland and knew it to be too boring for my tastes, so he had someone escort me home. Smells like fried chicken tonight.”

“I can’t wait!” exclaimed Mr. Dixon as he rubbed his hands together and went into the dining parlor.

Adaline smiled at his happy demeanor and turned to the stairs.

“Are you going t
o sit next to Mr. Walker at dinner?” Polly asked her from behind.

Adaline looked over her shoulder. “Sit next to him?”

Polly tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention, then glanced around before she spoke. “I hear he plans on sitting next to you.”

Adaline’s stomach churned. “What?”

Polly gave her a curt nod. “Really dear, don’t waste your time on the likes of him. I don’t think he’s all he seems.”

Adaline sighed. “I’m beginning to think that myself.”

“Did you enjoy working with Lorcan today?”

Adaline started at the question. “How did you know… oh, yes, you were in the shop this morning.”

“We love to visit their bookshop whenever we come to Oregon City. You … you aren’t angry with him?”

Adaline sighed again. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Mrs. Brody felt bad it didn’t work out between you two, but don’t you go and marry the first man to come along.”

“Like Mr. Walker
?”

“Exactly
. Now, be a good girl and get ready for dinner. I’m going to help Mrs. Brown in the kitchen.”

Adaline watched her leave,
then went up the stairs.  She got to her room and noticed a piece of paper peeking out from under her door.  She glanced around but was the only one in the hall.  She unlocked her door, went into her room, and snatched up the folded paper from the floor.  She opened it and read:

Miss Dermont, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to church come Sunday?

H. Walker

Adaline let her hand fall to her side, the note still in it. “Oh, dear me,” she said with about as much enthusiasm as Mrs. Fitzsimmons when dragged out of the oak tree. She was going to have to think of what to say.  She shouldn’t be entertaining ideas of Mr. Walker or any man, especially not now that … oh, Heavens … now that she’d begun to have feelings for Lorcan Brody.

Adaline went to the chair and sat. She belatedly remembered the book she’d carried in, and set it on the writing desk. She looked at it
, and could hear Lorcan’s voice as if he were sitting next to her.
It’s Mrs. Fitzsimmons’s favorite.

She closed her eyes and felt a tiny prick of regret. She’d traveled so long and far coming from New Orleans, and convinced herself on the trip she was doing the right thing. Aunt Pricilla would be well taken care of by Uncle Charles, and she and her new husband would start life together. 

Such was not the case, and was no guarantee Lorcan would change his mind about her. So here she was in a strange city, in wild country, where many of the residents were less than civilized, at least by southern standards. But Adaline was determined to make the best of it. She just didn’t know what to tell Aunt Pricilla when she wrote to let her know how things were going.

A knock sounded on the door. Adaline opened her eyes and looked at it, her earlier joy from working all day with Lorcan squashed
by the reminder of his rejection of her as his mail order bride. She stood up and walked toward the door. What was she doing thinking she would have something with the man?  He was pleasant to work with today, it didn’t mean he would be the same way tomorrow. She sighed and opened the door.

“Are you ready to go down to dinner?”

Adaline stilled at Mr. Walker’s words. He stood on the other side of her threshold, a single flower in his hand. Adaline stared at it, swallowed, and looked at him. “Yes.”

He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

She took it with reservation, but didn’t want to be rude. He smiled broadly as he handed her the flower, and they descended the stairs to join the others.

* * *

“C’mon Lor, it’s one fight, one wee fight,” Finn wheedled. “And think of what we can do with the prize money!”

Lorcan took a deep breath. The crowd at McPhee’s was larger than normal, and he suspected Finn knew something he didn’t,
but wasn’t going to press it, because he wasn’t going to fight. “No,” he said firmly.

Finn’s should
ers slumped. “Ah, I guess yer right. But it’s a shame though, that money would do your da good.”

Lorcan scowled at him. “What of my da? What would you know of it?”

“Yer folks talk with my folks, they tell each other things.”

“Yes, they tell
each other
things, not you.”

Finn shrugged. “Can I help it if the wall
s in me house are thin as paper?  Did ye know yer folks spent everything they had on getting a mail order bride? And what do ye do? Ye throw her back!”

“Shut up, Finn.”

“Shut up, Finn? Why should I? Not only do ye make it clear ye don’t want the girl, but when a fine upstanding citizen such as meself offers to take her off yer hands, ye get that fierce look in yer eye.”

“What fierce look?” Lorcan growled.

“The one ye have right now! McPhee!”

“Don’t call McPhee over here, you fool,” Lorcan hissed.

Too late, Mr. McPhee came running, his hands full of money, a pencil in his mouth. He removed it and stuck it behind an ear. “Ah, there ye are lad! Glad to see ye decided to turn up. Over half this crowd is here to see
you,
ye know!”

“Me? How could they be here to see me? I didn’t say I was fighting tonight.”

“No, but Finn here did.” Mr. McPhee laughed. “I’ll go tell them yer here.”

  Finn began to back away as Lorcan seethed. “Tell who? Just what is going
on?” he asked as he grabbed Finn by the shirt collar.

“D
idn’t Finn explain things to ye, lad? There are agents from Stump Town here to watch ye tonight! It’s brought folks from all over!” He held up his two fists full of money. “I’ve never had it so grand!”

He hurried off before Lorcan could say another word. Not that he could, his lips were pressed together so hard he had to suck air through his nose as his eyes narrowed on Finn.

“Now, Lorcan, save it for the ring.”

“There is no ring here, there never was,
and there never will be. This isn’t fighting, this is hoping you don’t get killed.” He gave Finn a shake. “Don’t you understand? I’m not going to do this anymore, I can’t.”