“It was two months, twenty-six days and four hours,” Ciara corrected him as she approached at a more ladylike pace. “But that was a very long time.” She glanced up at Maddie with the deep brown eyes they’d inherited from their father. “How nice to see you again, sister.”
Though Maddie had longed to hear that word from Ciara, she couldn’t help thinking that the girl was even more determined to play the lady than Maddie was. She wasn’t sure whether to tease Ciara or respond in kind. Ciara didn’t allow her time to choose. She tugged on the sailor’s hand, forcing him forward until he nearly bumped into Maddie.
“This is Mr. Michael Haggerty,” Ciara announced, gazing up at him with so much pride, Maddie might have thought her sister had sewn him together from whole cloth. “He’s come to marry you.”
Maddie’s head jerked up, and she stepped back to eye the fellow. With hair black as a crow’s wing swept back from his square-jawed face and eyes bluer than the Sound on a sunny day, he wasn’t a bad-looking sort. There was character in those solid cheekbones, determination in the firm lips. He even nodded respectfully as his gaze met hers. But no amount of good manners and handsome looks was going to win him a place in her affections.
“Mr. Haggerty came all this way for nothing, then,” she told them all, raising her chin. “I’ve no reason to marry, him or any other man, and that’s the last that needs to be said on that score.”
* * *
Michael Haggerty could not imagine a worse way to be introduced to his benefactor. Most ladies he knew would have cried out, demanded an apology at Ciara’s announcement that he had come intending marriage. Miss Maddie O’Rourke had given him a proper set-down instead, her declaration softened only by the lilt of an Irish accent that reminded him of his aunt and all he’d left behind.
Now her glare flashed around the pier, daring anyone to disagree with her. Several men ducked away as if afraid she would discover they secretly harbored hopes of winning her.
Best to calm the waters if he wanted a chance at sailing through them.
“I think Miss Ciara is overstating the case,” Michael said with a glance at the little girl. Ciara’s proud look dripped away like water off a roof. In the time Michael had known her, first at the children’s home his aunt kept in New York and later aboard ship, he’d seen the pattern many times. Ciara had been one of the older children at the home, a position that had earned her the respect and awe of most of the others. Her queenly demeanor lasted only until someone disagreed with her, and then she quickly reverted to the unsure eleven-year-old who dwelled inside.
“But he came all this way,” she protested to her sister. “He took care of us.”
“We like him,” Aiden added, slipping his hand back into Michael’s. That was Aiden, loyal as the day was long, to each of his sisters, to Michael, to anyone who befriended him. His trembling lower lip was enough to make anyone rethink whatever they’d been doing to cause his distress.
For a moment, Michael thought Aiden’s look had touched Maddie as well, for her tension eased. “Glad I am that Mr. Haggerty was so kind to you both,” she told her brother. “But that doesn’t mean I owe him my hand in marriage.”
Ciara stiffened as if she quite disagreed.
“No, ma’am,” Michael said before the girl could build up a head of steam again. “I’m the one who owes you a debt. Your money paid for my passage.”
Maddie frowned. She had delicate russet-colored brows over a pert nose and the creamiest skin Michael had ever seen. And that hair, thick as coals after a fire and twice as fiery. But a pretty exterior could hide a far less pleasing heart, he’d learned to his sorrow.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I asked for a lady to escort my brother and sister, someone who could be helping me at my work.”
That’s what Aunt Sylvie had been intending to send her, until the threats to Michael’s life had convinced her to beg him to go instead. But he didn’t want to explain that now, not with people crowding around them on the pier, gazes already curious.
So Michael released his hold on Aiden and saluted as the men on the naval ships in New York harbor had been wont to do. “Able Seaman Michael Haggerty at your service, ma’am.”
Her lips tightened until they were a pretty pink bow on her oval face. “I’m not a captain of a ship, Mr. Haggerty. I have no use for sailors.”
Michael lowered his arm, determined not to give up so easily. “You must have some fixing and carrying that needs to be done, ma’am. All I ask is a chance to repay my debt to you.”
She shook her head, threatening the placement of the tiny green hat that perched on her braid. He’d seen a few of those in New York, usually on women who couldn’t be bothered to count the cost of the whimsical things.
The thought brought his aunt’s voice to mind. Don’t you be going and judging all women like your Katie O’Doul. Not every lady sets her heart on breaking others’.
“I’ve never held with indentured servants, sir,” Maddie informed him. “Too many of our people labored under that system.”
Our people. The Irish. Was she one of those who valued the home country more than the country they now called home? He’d been fighting the battle of misplaced allegiances for most of his life. The only reason he was here now was because he’d lost that battle in New York and lost the woman he’d thought he’d loved at the same time.
He wasn’t about to lose more.
“Nevertheless, Miss O’Rourke,” he said, “I’m a man who pays my debts. And I’ve grown quite fond of Miss Ciara and Master Aiden. Until I know they’re safely settled, I’m afraid you’ll have to suffer my presence.”
It was a bold statement, so he wasn’t surprised when her dark eyes flashed fire even as her hands tightened into fists at her sides. Oh, but he was in for a tongue-lashing now. As if Ciara thought so as well, she latched on to Michael’s arm again.
“Oh, please, Maddie!” she cried. “Don’t send Michael away!”
Aiden pressed himself against Michael’s leg, face tightening with worry. “He’s our friend.”
Maddie O’Rourke drew in a deep breath. Michael knew the position in which he and the children had placed her. She was an unmarried woman, by all accounts, a laundress, Aunt Sylvie said, though no laundress Michael had ever met dressed half so well or carried herself with so much pride. But he truly didn’t want to marry her. He wanted to make sure Ciara and Aiden were safe, and he needed a job so he could pay back what he owed and find his footing on the frontier.
“Have you no other friends or family in the area, Mr. Haggerty?” she asked as if trying to determine some other solution to the problem he presented. She raised her gaze to his, and he thought the movement was at least in part a way to ignore the pitiful looks on her siblings’ faces.
“A fellow came with me on the boat,” Michael said. “But he has only enough to pay room and board until he finds employment.”
She sighed, fingers relaxing against the material of her skirts. “’Tis a difficult choice you’re giving me, Mr. Haggerty. To begin with, I’ve no idea what to do with you. A woman working off her debt might have slept upstairs with the family. I’ve no bed available for a bachelor.”
“I don’t need much,” Michael assured her. “I can make do with a blanket on the floor.”
She frowned as if she wasn’t acquainted with such humble behavior. In truth, he wasn’t used to it either. He’d been proud enough, ambitious even: working on the docks in Brooklyn, rising among the ranks to a position of authority, engaged to the prettiest lass Irishtown had ever produced.
But his pride had lasted only as long as it had taken