* * *
A few days later, Ardan entered the kitchen, with a glance in his mother’s direction. Ever since he had married Deirdre nearly two years ago, he had spent less time with the family and more time at the café, which he and his wife now ran. He had never imagined he could be so content, running a business with his wife, but he had found an inner peace, knowing that she was nearby in the kitchen, while he interacted with their customers.
He took a deep breath and moved toward Maggie, who stood staring out the kitchen window. “Maggie?” he murmured, his voice redolent of their native Ireland. He was the eldest O’Rourke sibling and looked the most like their father—tall, broad shouldered, with piercing blue eyes. His black hair was longer than Seamus ever wore his. However, his beard was trimmed neatly, like his da’s, and he always acted with compassion and understanding, like his da. “Maggie, I must speak with you.”
Their mum frowned, silently asking if she should remain. When he nodded, she set aside the bowl for brown bread and focused on her son too.
“What’s the matter, Ardan?” Maggie asked, belatedly noticing her brother had entered the kitchen. “Is Deirdre ailing? Do you need my help?” She took a hasty step toward the inner kitchen doorway, as though to race for her healing supplies.
Gripping her arm and shaking his head, Ardan stilled her dash from the room. “Come, lass. Sit.” He waited until she had sat beside him, before he clasped her hands, giving them a supportive squeeze. “I have news. I don’t want you to hear it from one of the town busybodies.”
Maggie frowned. “What could you have heard about town that affects me?”
Ardan closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening. “I take no pleasure in this, Maggie,” he whispered. He opened his eyes and met her guarded gaze. “There’s been an accident. Dunmore’s missing.”
“Missing?” Maggie gasped, yanking on her hands, as she attempted to wrench them from his hold. However, her brother kept a firm grip on her. Her breath ratcheted from her, as she paled and then flushed, her eyes filling with tears. “How can you say he’s missing?”
“He was driving a stage to a small town he rarely visits, and the road washed away underneath his horses and the coach, plummeting them into a ravine.” He took a deep breath. “Everyone but Dunmore was found.”
“Alive?” Maggie asked in a hopeful voice.
Ardan paused, gazing deeply into her devastated blue eyes, so like his own. “No, only one lived. The man who’d been sitting beside Dunmore. He said Dunmore pushed him off the stage, just before they fell off the mountainside. Dun yelled for everyone to jump overboard, but no one heeded him.”
Maggie crouched forward, her head bobbing, as she gazed at nothing. “A hero to the end,” Maggie whispered, her voice broken. “Why wouldn’t he save himself?”
Mary wrapped her arms around her daughter, sheltering her from behind, as Maggie lost her battle with her dawning grief, and a keening wail echoed around the room. “You know the type of man Dunmore is,” Mary whispered. “His passengers were his responsibility. He’d never shrink from doing what he deemed right.”
Maggie’s shoulders shook, but no other wail emerged. “How could this happen?” she whispered. “He only went to the big towns.” She looked at Ardan in an accusatory manner. “How?”
Ardan now caressed her hands in a soothing manner, his expression one of deep torment for having caused his sister such distress. “He had heard news of Jacques. He wanted to investigate.” He waited, as she shook her head in confusion. “He visited me before he left the last time. I didn’t understand the … tension between him and Da, but I was happy to speak with him about any plan that would help us determine where Jacques is.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. “Even at the end, he was working to keep me safe,” Maggie whispered. “He was thinking about me.”
Mary squeezed her from behind. “My darlin’ girl, you know the man he is. You know he would never have wanted to be separated from you, had your da not extracted that promise.” She paused as Maggie spun to her, Maggie’s gaze filled with an unholy fury.
“If Da hadn’t acted as he had, Dunmore wouldn’t have left! He wouldn’t have made that trip! I’d still have him! I’ll never forgive Da now. Never!” She rose, running from the room, her footsteps clomping up the stairs, as she headed to her bedroom.
Ardan rubbed at his forehead. “Jaysus,” he muttered. “I never meant to make things worse.” He looked up to meet his mum’s worried gaze, when she stroked a hand over his head.
“You haven’t, my dear boy,” she said, with pride and love glinting in her gaze. “You spared her from hearin’ the news from the likes of Janet Davies.” Mary paused, as though considering the town’s worst gossip, who reveled in provoking pain as she imparted distressing news. “Maggie needs time.” She grimaced. “Warn your da. He needs to know what’s happened, before he comes home tonight.”
Ardan nodded, leaning forward to kiss his mum on her forehead, before he rose and strode from the room.
* * *
Maggie laid curled on her bed, staring vacantly into space, as even tears wouldn’t fall. Although she had cried upon initially hearing the news from Ardan, she couldn’t believe Dunmore was dead. That he would never smile at her again. Whisper in her ear. Tease her about her cooking or encourage her as she struggled to improve as a healer.
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, as she recalled their last embrace. The way his hands pulled her close and his fingers dug into her backside, as though wanting
