She gripped his arm, as he moved to leave her alone. “Food. Do you have any food or water?”
He scratched at his head and nodded. “I’ve a bit of jerky.” He patted her hand, prying it loose, leaving her alone in the back of the stage. A moment later, he’d returned with a packet of jerky wrapped in leather and a canteen. He set both next to her hip. “Don’t eat or drink too much or too fast, Miss Maggie. You could make yourself sick.” With a nod, he shut the door, and the stage rocked, as he boarded the front of it.
Maggie collapsed onto her side, her head resting on the tough leather seat, as the stagecoach hurtled into motion. She roused long enough to eat a few bites of jerky and take sips of water. She flitted in and out of consciousness, uncertain if this were another dream or if she were truly on her way home. Sleeping in fits and starts, she woke, as the stagecoach slowed and began its descent into the town. Rather than head to the livery, Bailey stopped near the O’Rourke house and began bellowing for Seamus.
Peering over the top of the door, Maggie saw Bailey outside, acting like her guard. When he saw Seamus and her brothers approaching, he puffed out his chest. “I’ve something you might want to see, sir.” Opening the door with a flourish, he pointed inside.
Maggie stared at her father with a wide-eyed, hope-filled gaze. “Da? Are you real?” she whispered, as she hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. “I … I …” Her eyes filled with tears, and she curled into herself.
“Maggie? Maggie, darlin’,” Seamus rasped, his shaking hand reaching out to caress her cheek. When she flinched, he stilled his motion. “Love, my darling girl, you’re safe. No one will hurt you.” He looked behind him and then to Maggie again. “Can I carry you inside, or do you prefer to walk?”
“I … Do you have a blanket, Da?” Maggie asked, as she blushed. “I’m indecently dressed.”
“Devil take how you’re dressed,” Seamus snapped. “You’re home and alive, and you’re whole. That’s all that matters.” He slowly reached for her, gently pulling her into his arms. “You’re home, my darlin’ girl.” He paused, held her close, as a tremor raced through her, and then a deep keening sob burst forth. “There, my darlin’,” he crooned. “You’re home. You’re safe.” He carefully swung her up and out of the carriage, nodding his thanks when Ardan slung a blanket over Maggie, and then carried her into the large family home.
Rather than head upstairs, he headed into the bedroom on the main floor and moved to set her on the sickbed. When she clung to him, he sat with her on his lap. “There’s my lovely girl. You’re safe. You’re home.”
“Seamus?” Mary called out from the living room. “What was the fuss about?” She poked her head into the room, shrieking, “Maggie!” as she saw her daughter in her husband’s arms. “Oh, my girl, my girl,” she cried, as she vaulted forward to wrap her arms around Maggie and Seamus, rocking to and fro, as tears coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, our prayers have been answered. You’re home. You’re with us again.”
Soon Maggie had been eased from Seamus’s hold, Mary had been coaxed to let go of her, and Maggie was curled under a blanket on the bed.
“Maggie,” said a deep voice from the doorway.
She curled over into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. However, she opened her striking blue eyes and looked to the man in the doorway. Dunmore stood stock-still, his long hair tied back, with only a faint scar on his cheek to indicate his recent trauma. His blue-green eyes shone with a fierce intensity, as he stared at her. “Philip,” she whispered, her throat thickening with more tears.
He entered the room, his jaw clenched tight and his hands fisted. “You’re back, beloved. You’ll be well. I promise.” He slipped past Seamus and Mary, crouching down to kneel in front of Maggie, so he was eye level with her. “Whatever happened, I don’t care. You’re my Maggie, and I love you.”
A sob sputtered out, and she reached forward to clasp his hand. “I … I …” She shook her head, as sobs racked her body.
Dunmore eased onto the bed, pulling the blanket-wrapped Maggie into his arms, so she could cry on his chest. “Cry, my cherished girl. My beloved Maggie.” He kissed her ratty hair. “Cry and share your sorrows with me. I’ll never turn my back on them or you.”
Maggie pressed against him, holding on to him, as though he were her anchor in the storm.
* * *
Seamus guided Mary out of the room, giving Dunmore a little time alone with their daughter. “It’s all right, love. Give him time to comfort her, as I’d need to comfort you.” He pulled Mary close, wrapping his arms around her, as he shuddered.
Finally Mary whispered in his ear, “I don’t know if I have the strength to hear how she suffered, Shay.” She pressed her face against his chest, as though she could hide from her shameful admission.
Running his hands over her back, he kissed her head and clasped her to him. “Oh, my sweet lass, do you not know I feel the same? The thought of all she suffered, … I want to murder.”
Mary arched back to look at Seamus. “As do I.” Her hazel eyes filled with an unutterable devastation. “Due to me, she was exposed to such a man. What kind of mother am I?”
He cupped her cheeks, staring into her
