When he approached their door, he eased it open, stilling at finding his Mary bent over, as she sobbed. “A ghrá,” he murmured, calling her his love in Gaelic, as he shut the door and moved to her. He knelt in front of her, stilling any attempt to soothe her, as she sat bolt upright.
“No!” she gasped. “You weren’t meant to be home. I was to have time alone.” She scrubbed at her face with a handkerchief, before she lost control again. “I promise I will be strong.”
“My most precious love,” he said, “what has happened?” Rising, he moved, so he was on the bed and pulled her head against his chest. “Share your sorrow with me. You know I’d happily carry any burden to ensure you were well.”
Mary wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted in a soft voice. “I have an overwhelmin’ fear somethin’ awful will happen while you are away. Either here or to you.” She shivered. “I can’t shake that fear.” She calmed, as she breathed in his scent and felt his presence. “But I know you must go. Must find a way to bring harmony to your relationship with Maggie.”
“Ah, love,” he murmured, kissing her head.
She backed away, her expression filled with embarrassment. “I’m bein’ selfish.”
“Selfish?” Seamus rasped, his hands cupping her face, as he gazed adoringly into her eyes. “You don’t even know the meaning of the word, my love.” He kissed her softly, when she failed to laugh. “Do you know what it means to me to see you mourn my departure? To know you’d miss me as I’d miss you?”
She half sobbed, as he kissed her forehead, cheeks, and then behind one ear, evoking a shiver. “Seamus, I’ll be lost without you.”
He sat back to stare into her wounded gaze. “Aye, as would I without you. Which is why we owe another debt of gratitude to Nora.” He waited, as Mary shook her head subtly in confusion at the apparent change in topic. “Aye, she spoke with wee Maggie. Convinced her that she was bein’ a fool to cling to her anger.” His expression was filled with pride and relief. “An’ Maggie sought me out, a ghrá. Forgave me.”
Mary gasped, her hands gripping her husband’s arms so hard that she would leave bruises. “You’re stayin’? You’ll not leave me again?” A tear coursed down her cheek, after her plaintive question.
“I’ll not leave you, my Mary,” he whispered. “Although there may come a time when I have to. But not now.”
“Oh, thank God,” Mary breathed. She fell forward, nestling into her husband’s embrace.
* * *
Maggie wandered to stand beside the Missouri River, absently listening to the men talking and shouting to each other, as they loaded wagons or loitered in front of saloons. Her gaze focused on the steady flow of the river. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she sighed, admitting to herself that she had always taken Dunmore’s constancy for granted. Deep inside, she had always assumed he would return to her. That he would be as unable to remain apart from her, as she would be from him.
However, now she doubted. She battled a deep-seated fear that she would never see his gaze lit with joy at the mere sight of her. See his mouth quirk, with a mixture of adoration and humor, when she told one of her stories. See his whole demeanor blaze with desire, when she stepped closer.
With a stuttering breath, she raised one hand to her chest, closing her eyes, as she held on to hope, with a tattered tenacity. She knew he was alive. He had to be.
“Maggie?”
Jumping, Maggie spun to face Cormac. “You scared the life out of me,” she gasped, as she stared at Niamh’s husband. He was dressed as though he were about to depart, but that made no sense, as it was too late in the day. “Are you leaving now?”
He shook his head. “No, in the morning. I just returned.”
Maggie focused more closely on him, noticing he was covered in dust. “You should go to Niamh. She misses you terribly when you are away.”
Nodding, Cormac stared at her for a long moment. “I will. You shouldn’t be here alone, Maggie.” He paused. “I promise you. I’ll look for him. I’ll find him.”
A gush of air left Maggie, and she sagged forward, thankful when Cormac’s strong arm reached out to catch her. She fell into his embrace, as she shuddered. “Da was going to search,” she whispered. “I couldn’t lose him too.” She looked up, flushing with embarrassment. “Not that I want to lose you either,” she stammered.
He chuckled. “You won’t lose me. And I’m more used to roaming the Territory than Seamus is.” He gave her arm a squeeze, his gaze inquisitive. When she nodded, he eased her away, waiting a moment to ensure she could stand on her own, before he fully released her. “Keep believing he is alive. Sometimes, all we need is faith, Maggie.” He nodded at her, as he sauntered away toward the home he shared with her sister, Niamh.
As Maggie watched him leave, for the first time since she had heard of the accident, a kernel of hope took root in Maggie’s soul.
Chapter 5
A month had passed since Maggie had received the horrible news from Ardan about Dunmore’s accident. As each additional day passed, a glimmer of her hope that Dunmore would return faded. Cormac had yet to return, and Maggie knew that Niamh, although stoic, missed her husband and wanted him home for a short visit.
Today, a bright, hot day in early August,
