He glanced at Maggie. “When the stage crashed, I was headed to a high mountain town between Helena and Virginia City. The man with the empty wagon had brought supplies to the place where the washout occurred, and the townsfolk ferried the goods up to the town from there. I doubt they’ll fix the road this year.”
“Why were you in the livery here? Why didn’t Cormac bring you to us?”
“He worried about moving me too much, and I was a pigheaded fool. I refused to wait in the wagon, like he wanted. I wanted to heal, to take a bath, and to become presentable, before I approached you. So I crawled out of Cormac’s wagon, intent on making it to the bathhouse on my own. Instead I found you.” He heaved out a breath and kissed her head again. “I was delusional, and Cormac knew I couldn’t go far. He left me there to go find you, even though I asked him not to.” He swiped at her face, when he saw her frown.
“Why?” she asked in a small voice. “You had to have known how your absence hurt me.”
“I dreamed of being strong, the man you remembered. Not some beat-up, worthless bag of bones, who couldn’t even stand on his own.”
“Hush,” Maggie ordered, her fingers covering his lips. “Never talk of yourself like that. You survived. You did everything you could to return to me.” Her eyes filled. “I hate imagining what you suffered, so you could come back to me.”
He stared into her eyes a long moment, his thumb tracing away a lone tear. “I had to return, Maggie.” He paused before whispering, “Beloved, I had to.”
Her gaze glowed at his soft endearment, and she remained quiet for a long moment. “What was the accident like?”
Staring at her with an unseeing gaze, he whispered, “Like flying through air and waiting for death. Exhilarating but terrifying at the same time. I was so angry.”
She ran a hand over his jaw. “Because of the loss of your stage?”
Frowning, he shook his head. “No. Because I thought I’d never see you again. Never hold you again. Never have the courage to tell you that I love you.” His gaze shone with a fervent passion. “I was so angry at fate.”
She smiled. “Don’t be too mad, love. You’re here now, in my arms.”
Chuckling, he sighed. “Yes, and I’m a half-crippled man.” He saw her frown and winked at her. “I’ll heal. And, when I do, we’ll talk about the future. Nothing will ever separate us again, Maggie. I promise you,” he whispered.
Sighing with pleasure, Maggie took comfort in his avowal, impatient for the day he was better, so they could start their life together.
* * *
Cormac Ahern leaned against the doorjamb, his astute gaze roving over his friend. Rather than sweaty and fever bright, Dunmore had a healthy glow to him. His cheekbones weren’t as pronounced, and he didn’t grimace with pain when he shifted on the bed. “You look better, Dun,” he murmured.
Dunmore looked up from the book he was reading, setting it down on his belly, as he motioned for Cormac to enter. When Cormac moved to shut the door, Dunmore shook his head. “Leave it open. It soothes me to listen to Maggie sing in the kitchen.”
Grinning, Cormac sat, brushing a strand of his long brown hair over his shoulder. “You look a hell of a lot better than when I found you.”
Shrugging and wincing at that movement, Dunmore closed his eyes a moment against the pain. “That’s not saying much.” He let out another deep breath and then focused on his friend. “I’ll be fine. Just need a few more days.”
“Weeks, by the look of it,” Cormac said. “I’ve watched you hobbling to and from the privy. It ain’t a pretty sight.” He waited for Dunmore to protest, sobering further when Dunmore was quiet. “What bothers you, Dun?”
Sighing, Dunmore motioned for Cormac to close the door. After his friend had settled again, he murmured, “I’ve been reliving the time I was away. Too much of it is a blur of pain and trying so hard not to pass out. My only focus was on returning to Maggie.” He let out another deep breath. “I almost wished I could die, except I wanted to see her again.”
Cormac gave a grunt of understanding. “She has you tethered.” He said it with no censure, as Niamh had Cormac just as tethered to her. “That’s nothin’ to be ashamed about.”
Dunmore nodded and smiled ruefully. “I knew you’d understand.” He looked at the door. “I have this memory of being moved.” His gaze was filled with disbelief and doubt. “I shouldn’t have been thrown so far from the crash.”
Grunting again, Cormac hunched over, his long hair falling over his shoulders. “I can see why that would bother you.” Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know what it means, Dun. The townsfolk who searched for you said they never saw hair nor hide of you. That you plumb disappeared.” He nodded at the question in Dunmore’s gaze. “I visited that town. Spoke with the folks there.”
“Was he … ?”
“No, I didn’t see him, and no one would speak of having known a man named Jacques Bergeron. Perhaps he changed his name.” Cormac shrugged. “Here’s what I do know.” He half smiled, as Dunmore leaned forward with a childlike eagerness. “You’ve been given a second chance with Maggie. Don’t squander it.”
Dunmore half-groaned, half-laughed. “I never would have taken you for a romantic, Cormac.”
Chuckling, Cormac smiled fully at his friend. “Well, I have plenty of time to ponder life, as I stare at a team of oxen, while I trundle along the roads of this Territory. I’m thankful every day Niamh had the courage to take a chance on me.”
Dunmore nodded, his astute gaze meeting his friend’s. “When I’m better, Maggie and I will wed, as we should have done
