Pioneer Devotion
The O’Rourke Family Montana Saga, Book Six
Ramona Flightner
Grizzly Damsel Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by Ramona Flightner
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Ramona Flightner and Grizzly Damsel Publishing. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Cover design by Jennifer Quinlan.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
15. Sneak Peek at Pioneer Ardor!
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About Ramona
Chapter 1
Fort Benton, Montana Territory; June 1868
Stay away from my daughter.
The words repeated again and again in Dunmore’s mind, as he stared at his horses plodding along the primitive wagon road that would return him to Fort Benton. He ignored the prattling of the man beside him, who was desperate to return to civilization and to leave the wilds of the Territory behind him. Dunmore suspected the man had beggared himself, rather than earning the riches he’d imagined. Dunmore’s coach was full of such men, and he knew he’d have a busy season ferrying them around the Territory. Yet none of that mattered now.
The momentary respite of thinking of something other than Seamus O’Rourke’s edict ended as Dunmore again thought about the conversation he’d had with the man, before leaving his hometown of Fort Benton a few weeks ago. Somehow Seamus had learned of Dunmore’s passionate embrace with the youngest O’Rourke daughter, Maggie. After years of patience on Dunmore’s part, Seamus had extracted a promise of more time.
Dunmore grunted in disbelief. “More time,” he muttered. If there was one thing he never took for granted, it was the guarantee for more time. He sat in disillusioned silence, as images of his beloved Maggie filled his vision. Her impish smile. Her gaze gleaming with triumph when she found a successful treatment to help an ailing family member. The warm glow in her gaze when she stared at him. Taking a deep breath, he banished his memories of their embrace. Of her kisses. He knew, if he thought of them, he’d never honor his promise.
He only hoped Maggie would understand.
* * *
Maggie O’Rourke stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, as she helped her mum prepare supper. She brushed at a strand of loose auburn hair, tucking it behind her ear, and tried to focus on the song her mum sang. At twenty, Maggie was the youngest child of Seamus and Mary O’Rourke, although both of her parents had younger children from other spouses—after her parents had been separated upon their arrival from Ireland twenty years ago. However, today Maggie had no desire to focus on the past, and she hummed, reveling in the shared camaraderie with her mother.
Casting a furtive glance in her mum’s direction, Maggie was deeply thankful no conversation was required of her, as her mind was filled with thoughts of Dunmore. A stagecoach driver, he was a close family friend. She hoped Dunmore would return soon, and she would see him again. Be held in his arms again. Flushing, she admitted her deepest hope to herself. She wanted to kiss him again.
She glanced in her mum’s direction once more, quietly sighing with relief that her mother wasn’t focused on her. Maggie didn’t know how she’d explain her sudden blush. Although she attempted to think about anything or anyone else, her every thought was of Dunmore. How had he become so much more than a friend?
Since she had moved into her father’s house almost three years ago—discovering that her father hadn’t abandoned her and her mum, meeting nine siblings she never knew she had—Dunmore had been a frequent visitor. A trusted family friend, he had taken a keen interest in her and in ensuring she was well. At first, she believed it was because he saw her as her brothers did—as a kid sister to care for. In the past year, she had acknowledged his feelings ran much deeper than that.
To her shock and delight, she discovered hers did too.
Murmuring to her mum about the need for eggs, Maggie slipped outside to go to the chicken coop. While in the yard, she allowed her thoughts to run free, reenvisioning the moment a few weeks ago when she had visited Dunmore in the livery. She had thought to invite him to dinner, before he left on his latest sojourn into the Territory. Instead she had discovered passion.
Holding a hand to her heart, she closed her eyes, as she imagined she could feel his large callused hands again caressing her cheeks with reverence. The look of unabashed joy and devotion in his gaze. The feel of his lips as his touched hers. Unwittingly her fingers traced her own. She’d never imagined a man’s lips could be so soft.
Catching her breath, she opened her eyes and cast a furtive glance around to ensure no one had seen her. Her father would have called it a waking dream, but she had no desire to explain her vision.
She heard the laughter and chatter of her younger brothers approaching, and she walked with a determined step to the chicken coop. She smiled and waved at them, as they rounded the corner of the house, thankful they hadn’t arrived a few moments earlier. With a deep breath, she attempted to push away her thoughts of Dunmore, but
