Little Matchmakers

Maddie O’Rourke’s orphaned half brother and half sister have arrived safely in Seattle—with a man they hope she’ll wed! Though Michael Haggerty’s not the escort she planned for, Maddie allows him to work off his passage by assisting in her bakery…and helping care for her siblings. But she’ll never risk her newfound independence by marrying the strapping Irishman—or anyone else.

In New York, Michael ran afoul of a notorious gang. Traveling west was a necessity, not a choice. The longshoreman grew fond of his young charges, and now he’s quickly becoming partial to their beautiful sister, too. So when danger follows him, threatening Maddie and the children, he’ll do anything to protect them—and the future he hopes to build.

When was the last time someone had cared enough to listen to her fears, offer support?

“I just want the best for Ciara and Aiden,” Maddie said. “They deserve more than I had—a roof that doesn’t leak when it rains. A family that isn’t falling apart from work and weariness. Am I selfish for hoping I won’t have to go into debt for all that?”

“No,” Michael answered. “There’s nothing selfish about you, Maddie. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and you’re being clever about it, if you ask me. You’re building a business to support you and Ciara and Aiden. That’s something to be proud of.” As if to prove it, he bent and kissed her on her forehead.

A warning rose inside her, insistent, demanding. She had a future all planned, and it didn’t include falling in love. That way led to sorrow. She knew that.

Why then had she offered Michael a chance to stake a claim on her heart?

REGINA SCOTT has always wanted to be a writer. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages. Fascinated by history, she learned to fence and sail a tall ship. She and her husband reside in Washington State with their overactive Irish terrier. You can find her online blogging at nineteenteen.com. Learn more about her at reginascott.com or connect with her on Facebook at facebook.com/authorreginascott.

Instant Frontier Family

Regina Scott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been

born of God and knows God.

—1 John 4:7

To Kris, who knew where Maddie needed to live and that she needed a cat; and to the Lord, who gives me friends and family, both two-footed and four-footed, to love.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Seattle, Washington Territory

October 1866

Maddie O’Rourke stood on the pier beside Mr. Yesler’s mill, waiting for the ship to come in. Every inch of her tingled, from her carefully braided red hair under her green velvet hat to her toes inside the leather boots. After nearly a year of working and striving, she was about to reunite with her little brother and sister.

She shifted on the scarred wooden planks, the bell of her wide russet skirts swinging in the cool fall sunlight. She could hear the whine of saws from the mill, the hammering that told of new buildings going up behind her. Gentlemen crowded around her, ready to receive the passengers and cargo from the sailing ship that had swept into Elliott Bay an hour ago. Among those about to disembark would be Ciara and Aiden. Maddie could only pray, as she had for months, that her brother and sister had forgiven her for abandoning them in New York.

But what else could she have done? Her income then as a laundress had barely been enough to pay her room and board, let alone support two others. She and her half siblings had struggled along for months after Da and her stepmother had been killed in that horrible tenement fire. It had been a dark time for them all, one she’d prefer to forget.

Only the advertisement in the paper, announcing the need for teachers, seamstresses and laundresses in far-off Washington Territory, at exorbitant salaries, had given her hope. She’d managed to scrape together enough money to join the Mercer expedition to Seattle and find a safe place for Ciara and Aiden to stay until she could send for them. But though she had plenty of work here, the costs were high, and she hadn’t been able to bring her family to her or pay for a lady to accompany them on the ship.

Until now.

The brine-scented breeze off the blue waters brushed her cheek, setting her net veil to fluttering and tugging a strand of hair free of her coronet braid. So much had changed in the past few months since her friend Rina Fosgrave had suggested a different future to Maddie. No more was Maddie a nameless laundress lugging pounds of dirty linens up three flights of stairs to labor over a steaming tub as she had in New York. Now she was Miss Madeleine O’Rourke, owner of Seattle’s finest bakery, upstanding, respected, admired...

“You’re a little late on my shirts, Miss Maddie.”

Maddie kept her smile polite as she turned to the older logger who stood beside her, his bushy brows furrowed in frustration. If she’d learned anything since starting work at the age of nine, sixteen years ago now, it was to never disappoint a customer. There was always another girl ready to scrub her fingers raw for a penny a shirt. And Maddie was well aware there was another bakery in Seattle.

“My deepest apologies, Mr. Porter,” she said, batting her lashes for good measure. “I’ll deliver them to the boardinghouse me own self tomorrow at the latest. I can’t be keeping my best customer waiting, now, can I?”

At her praise, Mr. Porter turned as red as the flannel sticking out of the neck of his plaid cotton shirt. Stammering his thanks, he ducked his grizzled head and turned away.

Maddie smiled after him. Gentlemen had reacted with endearing embarrassment to her teasing since she was sixteen and her scrawny body had blossomed with curves. She’d heard enough compliments over the years to know the fellows liked the rich color of her fiery hair, the twinkle they claimed resided in her dark brown eyes. Her flirting made all the gentlemen, young and old and in between, smile for a time. There was nothing wrong with that.

But this laundry delivery would be her last. The woman who was coming with Ciara and Aiden could take over the remaining laundry chores, to Maddie’s everlasting relief. Whether that lady flirted with her customers was her own choice. Maddie would be focused on making the bakery a success so she could repay entrepreneur Clay Howard every penny he’d invested in her, with interest.

Her nerves tingled again as she turned her gaze once more to the ship. The vessel was a two-masted steamer much like the one that had brought her most of the way here. That ship had been filled with women like her, seeking a better life. This one was bringing her own heart’s desire.

A longboat had been lowered over the side, filled with passengers. Were Ciara and Aiden among them? How much longer would she have to wait?

“Nice day for a stroll, eh, Miss Maddie?”

Maddie nodded to the gentleman who had been so bold as to step up to her this time. He was one of the clerks in the Kellogg brothers’ mercantile, where she’d bought her supplies for the bakery. “A fine day to be sure, Mr. Weinclef.”

He squeezed the rim of the hat in his hands so hard she thought he might strangle the blocked wool. “I’d be happy to stroll with you.”

“To the moon and back!” one of his friends called from the edge of the pier, and others laughed.

Mr. Weinclef turned a sickly white.

“Sure-n but you’re a sweet gentleman to be offering,” Maddie said with a smile designed to turn his friends green with envy. “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to sit with me in services this Sunday.”

“I...I’d be delighted, ma’am,” he said. He seized her hand and pumped it up and down so hard her hat tipped to one side on her braid. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

Maddie managed to retrieve her hand before he scurried off. Righting her hat, she turned once more to the waiting ship. She’d never lacked for gentlemanly company in New York, though she’d been careful to keep from making a commitment. Here in Seattle it was far worse, with needy bachelors falling over themselves to make her acquaintance, seek a moment of her time.

She knew some of the ladies who had come west with her were already betrothed. She’d attended several weddings, been a bridesmaid at two. But that wasn’t how she planned to lead her life. She’d seen how hard work and privation could make any marriage a struggle. Look at Da and his second wife. Look at her life with her father and her late mother in Ireland, for that matter. It seemed love between a husband and wife could not last in adversity. Why pretend otherwise? Why set herself up for more heartache?

She put up her hand to shade her eyes from the sun, already low over the Olympic Mountains across Puget Sound. Every yard the longboat bobbed closer, every wave it crested, her body tensed the more.

Oh, please, Lord. I know You have better things to be doing than to deal with the likes of me, but perhaps You could spare a few moments. I tend to speak my mind, and I’m not long on patience. Would You help me make us a family again? Ciara and Aiden deserve that.

The burly-armed sailors were putting their backs into their work as they rowed the boat toward the pier. Now she could make out a girl and a boy nestled among the other passengers, and she thought her heart might push its way out of her fitted bodice, it swelled so much. Oh, how they’d grown! Ciara’s hair, a proper brown, was past her shoulders in a thick braid, and wee Aiden’s dark head was nearly to the shoulder of his sister’s blue coat. The seven-year-old was glancing about with wide eyes as if he’d never seen such a place.

Of course, he hadn’t. How strange Seattle must look to him after being raised in Five Points, the Irish neighborhood in New York. When she’d first walked past the whitewashed houses dwarfed by towering firs all around, she’d thought she’d arrived in another world entirely.

She felt a little foreign now. Would her brother and sister talk to her as they used to, sharing their fears, their triumphs? Would they still say their prayers together at night? She couldn’t take her gaze off them as the boat bumped the pier and men surged forward to catch the lines, make the boat fast and help the passengers ashore.

Calm now. Show them what a fine lady you’ve become. Show them that allowing you to go ahead was worth them staying behind.

Her smile felt shaky as she stepped forward.

A man leaped from the boat to land on the pier. She had only a moment to register height and broad shoulders before he turned to lift first Ciara and then Aiden to the planks as if neither weighed more than a feather. His heavy dark blue coat and rough brown trousers made him look like a sailor, but instead of helping the rest of the passengers to alight as the other sailors were doing, he took Ciara’s hand in one of his and Aiden’s in the other and turned toward Maddie. The look in his eyes was more challenge than welcome. It was almost as if he was Ciara and Aiden’s father, determined to lead them into a new life and protect them from any harm.

“Maddie!” Aiden broke from the man and ran toward her. All her resolve to be a grand lady evaporated like fog burning off in the sun. She bent and caught him as he hurtled into her, hugging him close.

“Oh, me darling boy! I’ve missed you so!”

“Me too.” He pulled back and scrunched up his round face. “It took forever to get here.”

“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 for the Dead Rabbits gang to try to force him into becoming a liar and a thief.

“And then there’s the work,” Maddie continued. “Have you any experience with the doing of laundry?”

“In truth, I’ve never tried it,” Michael admitted. “But I’ve a strong back and a ready mind. I should be able to learn the way of it.”

She shook her head. Perhaps she thought he denigrated her work by making it seem too easy. From what he’d seen, laundresses worked harder than most for less pay.

Ciara and Aiden were glancing back and forth between the two of them, as if willing their sister to give in. Maddie looked as if she couldn’t or wouldn’t budge, even for them.

You offered me light when all was darkness, Father. Show me the way now.

Michael reached out and took Maddie’s ungloved hand in his. “Give me the opportunity to help, Miss O’Rourke.”

Maddie gazed up at him, eyes narrowed as if she thought to see inside him and determine his worth. Michael held her gaze, wishing he could see inside her instead. Ciara and Aiden had talked often about their sister Maddie, and his Aunt Sylvie had sung her praises, but he couldn’t understand her. Why would anyone leave a little brother and sister behind? Why travel halfway around the world? Had she been escaping trouble, like him? Or was she the cause of it, like Katie?

“Very well, Mr. Haggerty,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You can stay with us, but only,” she cautioned, finger in the air as Ciara cried out in delight and Aiden began jumping up and down, “until you secure a proper job. I suppose I can find some use for you.”

“I’ll do anything that needs doing, Miss O’Rourke,” he vowed, “without complaint or compromise. You’ll have no cause to regret your decision to help me.”

“So you say,” she answered, but Michael got the impression that she was regretting it already.

Chapter Two

Maddie could see that Michael Haggerty was going to be trouble. For one thing, Aiden and Ciara looked to him rather than her for guidance. She supposed that was a natural consequence of him serving as their escort aboard ship, but she could not allow it to continue. She had enough doubts about her abilities to raise her brother and sister.

And as for Ciara’s insistence that Michael and Maddie must marry, that was nonsense. If Maddie wanted a brawny man in her life, she could have married one of the Wallin lads who were brothers to the man her good friend Catherine had married. Failing that, all Maddie had to do was whistle, and a dozen loggers and mill workers would have run to her side and dropped on bended knee to propose. Seattle was so desperate for marriageable females that she hardly needed to import a suitor all the way from New York!

Besides, why had Sylvie sent a man when Maddie had specified a woman? With her money going to pay Mr. Haggerty’s way, Maddie had nothing with which to hire the lady she’d needed. And by the size of him, he’d more than eat his weight in wages!

He was watching her now with those blue, blue eyes, as if waiting for her orders. She straightened her spine. “Set to work, then, Mr. Haggerty. Find Ciara’s and Aiden’s things. They’ll need to be carried home.”

He saluted her again. “On my way, Captain O’Rourke.”

Aiden giggled as Michael strode back toward the longboat.

Maddie drew in a breath. She could manage this. She must. In the next month, she had an opportunity to establish herself as the premier bakery in town by making all the cakes and rolls to be served at the biggest, most extravagant wedding Seattle had ever seen. Every man, woman and child would be singing her praises and lining up to purchase her products. Her future, and Ciara’s and Aiden’s futures, would be secure. She wasn’t about to jeopardize that for the likes of Michael Haggerty.

She pressed her hands into her skirts and bent closer to Ciara and Aiden. “Who’s ready to see their new home?”

“Me!” Aiden declared.

Ciara nodded eagerly.

With a smile, Maddie turned to allow them past her up the pier. “This way.”

Aiden ran ahead, darting between the waiting people and the sailors on the narrow pier. Ciara walked beside Maddie as if trying to be a lady, but Maddie could see her sister’s head turning this way and that as she took everything in.

“Seattle’s different from Five Points,” Maddie told her. “You’ll find everything smaller, except the geography.”

“Where are the tenements?” Ciara asked.

Maddie put an arm around her shoulders, realizing with a pang that she didn’t have to bend all that much to do so. Her sister’s eyes were nearly on a level with hers and pinched a bit around the corners with worry.

“Sure-n but there are no tenements here,” Maddie confided.

Ciara stopped, eyes widening. “Then where does everyone live?”

Maddie pulled back with a smile. “That depends, so it does. Some live in rooms above their shops as we will. Some share a house with many bedrooms in it. Others have grand houses high on the hill. And some live out among the trees in cabins built of logs.”

“Built of logs?” Now Ciara frowned. “Didn’t the coppers stop them from cutting down the trees in the park?”

Maddie shook her head, trying not to let her sister see her amusement. “If you can believe it, the trees aren’t in any park. They live out all on their own, everywhere.”

Ciara put her hands on the hips of her blue coat. “You’re teasing me.”

Maddie gave her a hug. “No indeed, me darling girl. It’s a whole new world here, and we have the privilege of helping to build it.”

Ciara’s brow cleared as Maddie released her. “We had the building of it back home too. That’s what the Dead Rabbits did.”

A shiver went through Maddie at the name of the dreaded Irish gang that had run Five Points. “The Dead Rabbits were violent, nasty creatures who used Irish pride to further their own gains,” she told Ciara.

Her sister shook her head. “You don’t understand. You were gone too long. The Dead Rabbits protect us, keep us safe. We need them.”

Maddie stiffened. “Who’s been filling your head with such nonsense?”

Ciara raised her chin. “I figured it out all by myself. I’m grown now, you know. Oh, look! What’s that?” She ran to the edge of the pier where Aiden had stopped to stare down at something in the water.

Maddie followed more slowly. She would never be able to see the vicious gang as heroes as Ciara did, but her sister was right about one thing. Life had definitely changed since Maddie had left New York. Sylvie McNeilly, who ran the children’s home where Maddie had left Ciara and Aiden, had little use for the gang violence that brought her another orphan every month. She would never have allowed Ciara or Aiden to admire the Dead Rabbits. So who had convinced Ciara otherwise?

If it was Michael Haggerty, he was about to find something considerably harder to deal with than sleeping on the floor.

* * *

Michael slung his cloth bag over his shoulder and picked up the children’s carpetbag to start up the pier. He didn’t want to lose sight of Maddie. He had a feeling she’d have liked nothing more than to leave him behind. His aunt had warned him as much.

“Maddie is a good person,” Sylvie had assured him over the narrow table where she and all her children ate under the light of a single sputtering lamp. “You’ll not be finding a kinder heart. But she’s expecting the lass I promised her, not a big strapping lad the likes of you. See that you win her over straightaway. She can be a big help to you.”

At the time, he’d agreed with his aunt that winning over Maddie O’Rourke would be key. He just didn’t think the winning-over part was going particularly well. Try as he might, he couldn’t understand her.

Help me, Father. I know she isn’t Katie, but how can I be sure that she’ll be any more faithful after leaving her brother and sister behind? These children need a family, a secure future, not more heartache. I’m not their father, but I feel like their brother. Show me how to help them.

“Hold up, me lad!”

The familiar voice stayed Michael’s step. He had known Patrick Flannery most of his life, though they’d lost contact for the past few years as Michael worked the Brooklyn docks and Patrick remained in Five Points. Michael had been pleased to find his friend among those heading to Washington Territory. With his warm blond hair, green eyes and a spring in his step, Patrick was all things good and bright about their heritage.

His friend craned his neck now to see up the pier, battered top hat shading his eyes. “Is that her, then, your warden?”

“She’s not my jailer,” Michael said, starting up the pier.

Patrick kept pace, long legs flashing in his plaid trousers. “She holds the keys to your freedom, my lad. That sounds like a jailer to me. What’s she like, then? Is she the fire-eater Ciara led us to believe?”

Ciara had bragged that her sister could do anything, but Michael wasn’t so sure. For all her confidence, Maddie O’Rourke had a fragility about her. Perhaps, like her sister, a more tender woman dwelled inside the bold shell.

But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Give me a day or two, Pat,” Michael said as they moved up the pier, shouldering their way through the crowd. “And then I’ll be able to tell you the truth about Maddie O’Rourke.”

“If anyone can, you can,” Patrick said. “You’re good with understanding people. Me? I just like getting things done. So, I’ll explore the place and let you know me findings.” He dropped back and allowed Michael to continue on alone.

Michael caught up to Maddie, Ciara and Aiden at the top of the pier, where they’d stopped. Aiden was down on his knees, bent over the water and grinning at a furry face that appeared to be grinning back.

“Ah, and here you’ve gone and made a new friend already,” Michael teased him with a nod to the seal.

Aiden glanced up at him. “Can we bring him home?”

Maddie chuckled, a sound as warm as the color of her hair. “No, I’m afraid not. His family would miss him.”

Aiden nodded as if he accepted that, then climbed to his feet. “The people here probably want him for the menagerie anyway.”

“No menagerie,” Maddie said. “All the wild animals here roam about free.”

Aiden stared at her, and Michael couldn’t tell whether the boy thought it a grand idea or a horrible one.

Ciara stomped one foot. “There you go again! You stop teasing us, Maddie!”

Maddie’s smile disappeared. “It’s the honest truth.”

Ciara turned to Michael. “She said you don’t need permission to cut down trees in the park either.”

“What I said,” Maddie clarified, “is that the trees aren’t in a park. Here you can own your land, up to one hundred and sixty acres per lad or lass.”

“Well, that’s a whopper,” Ciara said with a shake of her head.

“It’s the truth,” Michael told her. “It’s from a law called the Homestead Act. I read about it. If you’ve an interest in farming and a stomach for hard work, you could go far.”

He thought Maddie would thank him for supporting her, but she frowned at him as if she wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve.

Ciara’s frown eased. “Well, maybe you can farm, but that still doesn’t mean you get to cut down trees anytime you please.”

“You have to be cutting down the trees,” Maddie told her. “Those one hundred and sixty acres you claimed most likely are covered in trees so thick you can barely squeeze through them. If you don’t cut them down, you’d have no place to be planting your vegetables.”

“Why would they plant vegetables?” Aiden asked. “Why don’t they just buy them from the grocer?”

“I suspect you’ll not find many green grocers just yet, my lad,” Michael told him. “Or all that many farmers either. This is the wilderness. But that just means you can be anything you want to be.”

Even saying the words made his heart lighten. No one to tell him what he must do, whom he must support in the name of protecting Irish interests. He could be his own man, follow whichever way the Lord pointed. He drew in a deep breath, savoring the crisp, salty air.

“I don’t want to be a farmer,” Aiden announced, heading toward the road beyond the pier with a skip. “I want to be a sailor, see the world.”

“Now, where would you be getting that idea, I wonder?” Maddie said, following him with a sidelong look to Michael.

“Not from me,” Michael assured her as Ciara came along as well. “I worked the docks in New York. I didn’t sail the ships. And I’d think you’d have had enough of living on a ship by now, Aiden.”

“You’re right,” Aiden said. “It was too small. I can’t wait to run!”

Maddie grabbed his hand as if she feared he’d dash off right then. “Not so fast, me lad. First you need to learn your way about.”

With her free hand, she pointed up the steep hill in front of them. Michael had never seen anything like it. Though businesses were rising on each side, the rutted track running down the center was dark with mud. He could not imagine a wagon navigating it.

“That’s the skid road,” Maddie explained. “Lumbermen drag their chopped-down trees to the top and skid them right down to Mr. Yesler’s mill over there, where workers cut them up for boards to make houses and ships. Some of the logs are so big across, a man looks like a wee child beside them.”

“Now I know you’re bamming me,” Ciara said.

This time, Michael couldn’t argue with her.

“Be that as it may,” Maddie said, face turning stern, “it’s a dangerous place for the likes of you. The men are rough, the logs heavy and fast. You’re not to be going anywhere near it, understand?”

Aiden nodded solemnly. Ciara looked less sure, but she nodded too.

As if satisfied by their responses, Maddie set off walking, one hand still holding her brother’s. Ciara walked on her other side. Michael could only fall in behind. Her heavy skirts twitched with her impatient stride, and he didn’t think it was her siblings who concerned her. She didn’t like him by half. He needed to work harder if he wanted to put himself in her good graces.

He tried to keep quiet as he followed her up the street. Humility had been a hard lesson, but nearly three months at sea had given him time to reflect. He had a chance for a future and he wasn’t going to lose it by slipping back into old habits.

But Seattle, he saw, was even more sparsely populated than he’d supposed. He was used to tenement buildings crowding out the sunlight, masts of sailing ships so thick in the harbor he could have walked from one yardarm to another.

Here, single-story, whitewashed houses dotted the hillside, with dusky green trees taller than any he’d ever seen rising all around them. Two-story businesses were rare. The wide roads were heavy with black mud and crowded with wagons pulled by thick-necked oxen and wiry mules. And almost everyone he saw was male.

They were halfway up the hill, Maddie pointing out interesting shops to the children, when an older fellow in a fine suit, his whiskers thickest over his chin, stopped them. The tiny woman holding on to his arm must have been his wife.

“Good afternoon, Miss O’Rourke,” he said as he tipped his hat. “Mrs. Horton was asking when we might purchase more of your exceptional ginger cookies.”

“Now, dear,” his wife chided him with an affectionate smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m sure Miss O’Rourke is much too busy preparing for the wedding to bake us cookies.”

The wedding? Was Miss O’Rourke about to be married? A wealthy groom, eager to please his bride-to-be, would explain where the money had come from for passage as well as her fancy clothes and hat. What he couldn’t understand was why the thought of a wedding disappointed him. Was he truly so hurt by Katie’s desertion that he couldn’t see others happy?

Maddie smiled at the couple. “Sure-n but I’ll never be too busy for my best customers. I’ll have a batch ready tomorrow afternoon, just for you.”

Mr. Horton nodded, cheeks pink with obvious pleasure. “I’ll come get them myself,” he promised. “And good day to you and yours.”

With a nod to the couple, Maddie led Ciara and Aiden on.

Ciara glanced back at them. “Who was that? And why did she ask about a wedding?”

Michael walked closer to hear the answer.

“That was Mr. and Mrs. Dexter Horton,” Maddie replied, skirting around a rain barrel that sat at the corner of a building they were passing. “They’ve been loyal customers. They know I’m helping with a wedding for a friend who’s marrying at the end of the month. It will be a grand affair.”

Michael seized on the one word that made sense to him. “Customers. For your laundry?”

Maddie glanced back at him, and he thought a challenge lurked in those dark eyes. “First for my laundry, now for my bakery.”

“A bakery?” Aiden hopped up and down beside her. “You mean with sweets and cakes?”

Maddie turned her smile on him, warmer and more tender, and something inside Michael reached for that smile like a plant seeking light. He thought he knew the source of the reaction. His parents had died when he was about Aiden’s age; he hardly remembered them. Sylvie had been the one to look so kindly at him, to make him feel he was loved and appreciated. Was it any surprise he wanted the same for Aiden and Ciara?

But a bakery? How did a former laundress manage that, either from skill or with finances?

“Sweets indeed,” Maddie promised Aiden, her voice glowing with excitement. “And breads and cakes. As much as you want.”

That didn’t sound like such a good idea. Michael opened his mouth to tell her, then shut it again. She wouldn’t thank him for the suggestion. Still, he couldn’t help wondering whether she was trying to buy their affection.

She certainly didn’t need to buy the affection of Seattle’s citizens. That much was clear by the slow pace at which they progressed up the block of mercantiles. Every man acknowledged her as they passed, tipping his hat or otherwise greeting her as if she were the queen come to visit. By the looks in their eyes, more than one was smitten with her.

They tended to glare at Michael, who merely looked over their heads. He noticed, however, that Maddie didn’t introduce any of them to the children. Was she unsure of the men or ashamed of her kin? The latter didn’t seem likely, as she’d paid their passage and arranged for an escort.

“And here we are,” she sang out, stopping before a narrow, two-story building at the end of the street. A wide window fronted a boardwalk, and a wooden sign over the door proclaimed the place the Pastry Emporium. Aiden’s eyes lit.

“You own this?” he asked, voice heavy with awe.

“Not entirely,” Maddie replied, taking out a ring of keys and inserting one in the door. “A gentleman here finds likely enterprises and funds them to grow. He was persuaded to support my endeavors. I’m paying him back a little at a time, with interest.”

More than a little interest, most likely. Back home, there had always been shifty types ready to lend money, only to demand every penny for years while threatening their clients’ health and the lives of their families. He could imagine Maddie wanting some way to support Ciara and Aiden, but at what cost?

As she opened the door, Ciara and Aiden scampered past her into the shop, and the scent of cinnamon floated out behind them. Maddie gazed at them, her face soft. She drew in a breath as if seeking assurance she could be all they needed. He could almost see the burdens pressing on her shoulders.

It wasn’t right. First Sylvie and now Maddie—working themselves into an early grave to support family foisted upon them by fate.

Michael bent his head to hers. “Taken on more than you can handle?” he murmured, concerned and ready to offer his help.

She straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at him. “Not at all, Mr. Haggerty. You’ll learn I always know exactly what I’m about. If you intend to be of use, you’ll have to keep up.”

She marched into the shop, and he had to catch the door to keep it from slamming in front of him. He’d been raised to help those in distress, particularly a lady. What was he supposed to do when the lady wanted no help from him?

Chapter Three

The nerve of the man! How dare he question her decisions? She’d thought long and hard before taking out a loan to purchase the shop, and furnish it with the tools and supplies she’d need to establish herself as a baker. She was confident she could pay the money back in good time, so long as she proved herself at the wedding.

She forced herself to focus on Ciara and Aiden, who were glancing eagerly around the shop.

“This is where I’ll be selling my goods,” she told them, nodding to the long display counter where light glistened on specks of icing left over from the cinnamon rolls she’d sold that morning. “The high shelves behind it are for the confections and spices I hope to offer one day. And through that curtain is a fine kitchen with a brick oven big enough to cook all manner of sweets.”

“Like in ‘Hansel and Gretel,’” Aiden said, cocking his head to peer through a crack in the curtain. “Only that lady cooked children.” He glanced back at the skeptical-looking Michael, frown forming.

Michael must have interpreted the look, for he came to put a hand to Aiden’s back. “Your sister doesn’t cook children,” he assured the boy. He bent to put his mouth even with her brother’s ear and lowered his voice. “But I’m not so sure about a longshoreman like me.”

“No, silly,” Aiden said. “You’d never fit in her oven.”

“You haven’t seen my oven,” Maddie muttered to herself.

Just then the curtain gave a twitch, as if something waited on the other side. Maddie made herself smile. “Now, there’s one other resident of my bakery you should be meeting. She’s short and round-faced, with gray hair.”

Ciara and Aiden looked at her, gazes quizzical.

“I thought you wanted Sylvie to send you a lady to help,” Ciara said. “Why did you need Michael if you already had one?”

Why indeed? She couldn’t help glancing his way, only to find him regarding her as if she were a piece to a puzzle that just didn’t fit.

“You’ll see in a moment,” Maddie promised her brother and sister. She was merely glad Amelia Batterby hadn’t made herself scarce when strangers arrived. Maddie ventured to the curtain and tugged it aside. A short-haired, gray cat peered up at her, amber eyes wide.

“You have a cat!” Aiden cried, lunging toward her.

Amelia Batterby disappeared like a puff of smoke.

“She’s a bit skittish still,” Maddie explained as Aiden’s face fell. “She came to Seattle as a ship’s cat, and a mighty explorer she was, escaping every time they made port and causing the captain all manner of concern. He was persuaded to leave her in my care, and she now earns her keep as a mouser. Just know that you mustn’t let her outside, or she’ll escape again.”

Ciara angled her head to see through the curtain. “What’s her name?”

“The captain called her Her Ladyship on account of her proper ways, but I think she looked more like old Amelia Batterby.”

Michael chuckled. “The lady who lived next to Sylvie. I remember her. She was always finding something to concern her.”

Aiden shivered. “She scolded us whenever we even peeked out the door.”

“But she always brought presents for Easter and Christmas,” Michael reminded him.

“What presents does this Amelia Batterby bring?” Aiden asked Maddie.

“Mice and squirrels,” Maddie told him. “And any other vermin that creep into the bakery.”

Ciara winced.

“Maybe she’ll catch you one night,” Michael teased Aiden.

How easily he joked with her siblings, as if he were their brother and her the stranger come to live with them. She shouldn’t be annoyed with him for such a gift, but she was.

“I’m too big for a cat to catch me,” Aiden said. “But I like her. Can she sleep in the bed with us?”

“Very likely she does her best work at night,” Michael told him. “But if she finds her way to the bed, I wouldn’t be protesting.”

And who was he to be deciding that? Although she agreed with him in this instance, she was the one who should have made the decision. And Michael should know that.

Drawing in a breath, she nodded to the far wall. “Did you notice that door to the side, Aiden? That leads to our home.”

Aiden hurried to open the door, and he and Ciara clambered up the wooden stairs. Maddie stepped in front of Michael, preventing him from following.

“We need to come to an understanding, Mr. Haggerty,” she said. “You did your job bringing my brother and sister here. Now they’re my responsibility. Leave any concerns about their upbringing to me.” Satisfied she’d made her point, she turned for the stairs. A firm hand on her arm spun her back around.

All at once she wasn’t looking at a penniless vagabond but a warrior prince ready to defend his country. There was steel in those blue eyes, determination written on every feature.

“I’ll make you a deal, Miss O’Rourke,” he said. “You prove to me you have what it takes to raise Ciara and Aiden, and I’ll stop being concerned. But not one second sooner.”

Heat licked up her. She’d had to fight with herself over the decision to raise her siblings. She had plenty of frustration left to fight him too. “I’ll not be having you speak to me in such a tone, Michael Haggerty. I’m their bone and blood.”

“And I’m the man who’s listened to them cry themselves to sleep at night for the last three months,” he countered. “I don’t understand why you left them behind, and neither do they. I owe you a debt for paying my passage, but if you want my respect and theirs, you’ll have to earn it.”

* * *

There, he’d said it aloud. Aunt Sylvie had always claimed his tendency to stand up for the rights of others would get him into trouble. It had made him a pariah in New York. Likely it had just cost him room and board here. Maddie would be within her rights to toss him out on his ear for such a challenge. If she did, he’d have no recourse but to throw himself on the mercy of the church, if they even had a church yet in Seattle. He waited for her stinging rejoinder.

She took a step back from him and snapped a nod. “Done. And thank you for telling me about the crying. I’ll be sure to watch for that. Bring up their things now, then we’ll find someplace for you to sleep.” She swept past him, lifting her skirts to climb the narrow staircase.

Bemused, Michael could only follow.

Upstairs, the space over the shop had been divided into four rooms—three smaller ones across the back and one larger one facing the street. The larger room held a fat-bellied stove and a tall sideboard along one wall, with a wooden table and chairs in the center. The red-and-white chintz curtains on the window and the red checkered cloth on the table brightened the space.

“Look, Michael,” Aiden cried, gesturing toward the table. “Maddie got chairs enough for us all.”

Maddie’s cheeks turned a pleasing shade of pink. “Sure-n but I was expecting a lady to be coming with you. I thought she’d need somewhere to sit.”

And she wasn’t exactly sure she wanted him to take the lady’s place at the table. Michael set the children’s bag down on the floor. “And what might those rooms be, do you think?” he asked Aiden, nodding toward the three rooms across the back.

With two of the doors open, Michael could see that each of the smaller rooms held a bed on a wooden frame and pegs along the walls for hanging clothes. Ciara and Aiden threaded their way from one room to the next, exclaiming over the colorful quilts on the beds, the framed etching of a lady in a fancy dress that graced one wall.

Maddie stood watching, one arm hugging her waist. A moment ago, she’d been all fire; now she was as soft as smoke. She bit her lower lip as if waiting for Ciara and Aiden to find fault. He couldn’t ignore the urge to assure her.

“You’ve done a fine job of making this a home,” he murmured to her.

She drew in another breath as if she’d needed that affirmation, then reached up and removed the little hat to set it on the table. “So I was hoping,” she told him. “I suppose it will depend on what they think.”

Aiden darted out of the last room. “Who else boards here?” he asked.

“No one,” Maddie said with a smile. “One of the rooms is for you, and the other is for Ciara. The last is mine.”

Aiden stared at her a moment, then let out a whoop and dived into the nearest room. “This one’s mine!”

“That one has a pink-and-white quilt,” Ciara told him, following at a more stately pace. “It’s clearly my room.”

Aiden drew himself up. Michael readied himself to settle the squabble, but Maddie stepped between them. “Sure-n but they’re all the same size. We can change the quilts and move the picture to another room, if you like.”

Aiden made a face, backing away. “Nah. She can have her girlie room. I’ll take the other.” He dashed out the door.

Ciara perched on the bed and gave it a halfhearted bounce. She glanced up at Maddie. “Is this really to be mine?”

“All yours, me darling girl,” Maddie assured her with a smile.

Ciara rose. “Good. Then you can leave.”

Maddie blinked. “What?”

Ciara stood with her eyes narrowed. “You said it was mine. I can do with it as I please. I want to be alone. Now.”

There went Her Highness, Queen Ciara again. For once, even her sister seemed at a loss for words. Michael knew he should allow Maddie to deal with the situation as she’d just demanded. But Ciara couldn’t know how her attitude affected her sister, and he didn’t like seeing either of them hurt.

So he dropped his bag outside the doors to the children’s rooms and sketched a bow. “At once, Your Royal Highness. Just as soon as you remember your lowly servants here.”

Though she raised her little chin, Ciara’s cheeks were turning pink. “I never said you were servants.”

Michael raised his brows. “Oh, didn’t you? You seem to have forgotten that your sister paid for you to come here and gave you all this. There’s such a thing as being grateful.”

Ciara wrinkled her nose, which was nearly as pert as her sister’s. “Why should I be grateful for having to come all this way, leaving all my friends behind? She ought to be grateful I’ll even have anything to do with her.”

Maddie sucked in a breath as if her sister’s words had stung. Michael took a step back, waved at the door.

“Well, then, perhaps you should be the one to leave, you being such a put-upon lass. The captain said he was heading back to New York. Perhaps you can work your way home by clearing slops out of the kitchen and hosing out the head.”

Ciara turned green. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I’m here to work off my passage. You don’t seem to want to.”

“You’re not my father. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She turned to Maddie. “You won’t make me leave, will you, Maddie?”

Maddie glanced at Michael through the corners of her eyes. “I won’t make you leave, me darling girl, but I can’t be liking how you’re treating me. This is to be your new home.”

Ciara’s mouth worked as if she was chewing on the idea. “All right,” she said. “You can come in. But you have to knock first.” She raised her voice. “And that goes for you too, Aiden O’Rourke.”

From the other side of the wall came a rude noise. “Like I’d want to go in your stupid room.”

Michael gestured to the bag outside their doors. “You’ll each need to come and get your clothes and put them away. No dinner until it’s done right.”

“Fine.” Ciara sashayed out of her room and bent over the bag. Aiden peered out his door, but wisely kept his distance until she had found her things.

“I best be getting food from the larder for dinner,” Maddie murmured before hurrying down the stairs.

Michael sighed. He’d slipped back into his role as guardian even after telling Maddie he expected her to take up the task. But it wasn’t easy handing her the role he’d played for as long as he could remember, first with Sylvie’s other children, and then with Ciara and Aiden.

He hadn’t been surprised to find two more faces at his aunt’s table a few days after Christmas last year. Aunt Sylvie never could resist a call for help. In the crowded tenements that surrounded Five Points, someone was always dying of disease or disability, leaving children alone and frightened. Whenever possible, aunts and uncles and cousins distant and close stepped in, but sometimes no family or friends could be found.

So Sylvie took those children in, raised them as her own, scrubbed floors and sewed to make ends meet and accepted charity from all who offered. When Michael had first spotted the O’Rourke children, she’d had six others besides.

“What’s their story?” he’d asked as he’d helped his aunt clear up after a meager dinner of cabbage soup and crackers.

Sylvie’s ocean-blue eyes had turned down as she glanced at Ciara and Aiden huddled by the hearth. “Poor mites,” she’d murmured with a shake of her head that had loosened her flyaway graying blond hair. “Lost their mum and da in that terrible fire a few months ago. Their older sister had the raising of them, but she struggled so. Now she has a chance to go with Mercer’s Belles to Washington Territory. Sure-n but she’d be a fool not to take it.”

He’d read the story in the papers that eventually ended up blowing down the streets of Five Points before someone used them to fill the holes in the walls or burned them for fuel. Some fellow from the wilderness claimed men in Seattle needed teachers and seamstresses. The editors seemed to think the women were more likely to be forced into marriage or worse.

“So she’ll marry and go on with her life,” he’d surmised. “She’ll have what she needs, and she won’t think of them again.”

His aunt had set a sudsy hand on his arm. “Miss Katie O’Doul might have had her heart fixed on a crown, but Miss O’Rourke is another sort entirely.”

That night, he’d been willing to give Maddie O’Rourke the benefit of the doubt. But a reporter had sailed with Mercer’s Belles, and as his stories returned to be printed, Michael had struggled to find charity with Ciara and Aiden’s sister.

Roger Conant, a good Irishman his aunt insisted, told of flirtations galore with the ship’s officers, among the other passengers and at every port of call. How could Maddie O’Rourke be immune? He’d been the most surprised when the telegraph had arrived stating that passage had been paid for Ciara and Aiden and a lady to escort them.

“She must have found a rich husband,” he’d told his aunt when she’d shared it with him after the excited children had gone to bed.

“She signs the cable Maddie O’Rourke,” Sylvie had pointed out, showing him the closely worded note. “She’s made her fortune, just as she’d hoped, and a great deal faster than anyone expected. And now the dear girl hopes to share it with her family.”

She was trying to share it, all right. Michael didn’t like thinking what such quarters must have cost her to build and furnish. She clearly wanted her brother and sister beside her, yet something told him she wasn’t sure what to do with them now.

Leaving the children to put away their belongings, he followed her downstairs, locating her in the kitchen. The whitewashed walls enclosed a thick worktable with space below for bowls and rolling pins. Bright copper pots and dark iron pans hung from hooks over a squat wooden box with a lid. Its purpose defied him. One wall was built of red brick, with a small iron door at the bottom to cover the firebox and a wider door opening higher up for the oven.

Which just might have been big enough to fit a certain longshoreman.

Maddie was at a door in the wall to his right, digging through the supplies stored there. Casks and sacks crowded the floor; the shelves at the back were filled with tins of butter, cones of sugar in bright blue wrappers, jars of preserves, and bottles and vials of things he wasn’t sure he could name.

She glanced at him as he came to a stop beside her, and he thought he saw something glistening on her cheek before she returned to her perusal of the supplies.

“It wasn’t my place to settle that,” he said. “Forgive me.”

She reached out and pulled down a fat ham, molasses thick on its sides. “You had to settle it,” she said, carrying the ham to the table. “I couldn’t. They’ve changed. Once I was the world to them both, and when I told them what they should be doing, they did it.”

As she pulled a knife from a drawer in the worktable, he ventured closer. She sliced through the meat with brisk efficiency, but her face remained tight.

“Ciara is growing up,” he allowed. “Though don’t tell her I said so. She’ll take it as leave to make further demands.”

Instead of smiling as he’d hoped, Maddie grimaced. “She’s been like that since she was born. Da used to be teasing her like you did, calling her royalty.” She rested the knife on the table. “She never was treating me that way. I’m thinking she blames me for leaving her behind.”

She ducked her head, but Michael heard her sniff.

“It’s hard to understand when someone you love leaves,” he murmured, her pain like a wound inside him. “When my parents died, I remember feeling like I was the last person in the whole world.”

She paused, slanting a glance up at him. “Who had the raising of you?”

He smiled. “Sylvie. She’s sister to my mother. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

Her hands started moving again. “But you didn’t rail at her, tell her you had no use for her.”

“I wasn’t eleven,” he pointed out with a shrug. “Or I might have. As it was, I was the first of her borrowed children, as she likes to call them. And she gave me many brothers and sisters over the years.”

She took the remaining ham back to the larder. “Did you never mind having to share her?”

Had Maddie minded? Sylvie had said Ciara and Aiden’s mother had been Maddie’s stepmother. Maddie had to have been nearly grown when they came along.

“I never saw it as sharing,” he told her. “Sylvie made you feel like the most important person in her world, like the two of you were partners. Her children were my family.”

“Small wonder you’re so good with Ciara and Aiden,” she said, bending to gather some potatoes from a sack. “I just wanted to give them a home, a family again. I never thought they’d fight against me on that.”

“Give them time,” Michael advised as she carried the potatoes to the table. “You’ve had more than five months to accustom yourself to the place. For them, life changed when they boarded the ship, and it changed again when they left it.”

She nodded. “I’ve just missed them so. All I wanted was for them to be happy.” She glanced up at him. A drop of molasses darkened the tear on her cheek.

Unthinking, he reached out and wiped the smudge away with his thumb. Her skin was as silky and warm as it looked, and all at once he smelled cinnamon again, as if she were the sweet treat he was meant to savor. Embarrassed by the thought, he stepped back as her face turned pink.

“You’ve given them every reason to be happy,” he said. “A good home, a warm welcome. And what child wouldn’t want to live over a bakery?”

She smiled then, brightening the room, lifting his heart. “Sure-n they say that the way to a man’s heart is down his throat. That must be twice as true for children.”

She gathered the food and a jar of preserves and headed for the door before Michael could stir himself to help. He thought she was right about Ciara and Aiden—good cooking and kind words would go a long way toward healing their hurts, helping them see the love their sister was trying to offer.

A shame it would take more than a bakery to make him ready to take a chance on love again.

Chapter Four

Maddie sat at the table, watching Michael, Ciara and Aiden tuck into the ham steaks, fricasseed potatoes and biscuits she’d prepared. She’d wanted to do more, but she’d barely finished her work in the bakery before changing to go meet them. Still, by the pace they lifted their forks, they were running a race and expected the loser to face a firing squad.

“Were they so stingy with the meals aboard ship?” she asked, fingers toying with a biscuit.

Aiden wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It was terrible! They only let us eat twice a day, and nothing but biscuits, biscuits, biscuits.” He made a face and dived back into his potatoes.

Ciara wrinkled her nose. “Hard biscuits too. Nothing like these.” She lifted the remaining half of her biscuit daintily, rubbed it in the blackberry preserves Catherine had helped Maddie put up and stuffed it into her mouth.

Maddie tried not to cringe. She’d have to work on their manners, if they’d allow her to teach them anything.

Michael had been silent much of the meal, though he’d eaten plenty, as Maddie had expected. Now he sighed almost longingly as he laid down his fork. “I’ve dined at a few restaurants in New York. None of them ever served biscuits as good as these.”

Maddie’s face warmed. “It does my heart good to hear my work appreciated.” She winked at Aiden. “Now, let’s just hope the fine citizens of Seattle agree with you.”

“If they don’t agree, they’re stupid,” Aiden said, shoving back his empty plate. He glanced up at Maddie. “When do we get sweets?”

Michael gazed at the wall, but he wasn’t fooling her. She’d seen the light in those blue eyes when her brother mentioned sweets. Like the loggers and miners around Seattle, he must have a craving for sugary things. That also boded well for business.

She rose and went to the sideboard for the tin she’d filled earlier that day. “I’ll have cinnamon rolls ready when you wake tomorrow,” she promised Aiden. “For now, you’ll have to make do with gingersnaps.”

She brought a dozen to the table, and Aiden grabbed a handful before slipping from his chair.

“I’ll just take these to my room for safekeeping,” he said.

Ciara shook her head as he scurried from the table. “The rats will get them before you do, silly.”

“There will be no rats in my establishment,” Maddie called after him, “and I’ll be thanking the Lord for that.” She fought a shudder at the memory of the beady eyes and pointy snouts she’d seen on occasion in New York.

Ciara reached down and brushed her fingers against a gray tail that was peeking out from under the table. “Amelia Batterby would not stand for it,” she said with great surety.

Maddie met Michael’s gaze across the table and caught him smiling.

Ciara climbed from her seat. “I’m going to my room. You may call me when breakfast is ready tomorrow.”

There went Her Highness again. Michael must not have liked the stance any better, for he spoke up, with a look at Maddie. “What about school? Don’t Ciara and Aiden need to attend?”

Ciara turned to stare at him, and Aiden shot out of his room.

“They have a school here?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Indeed we do,” Maddie told them, feeling a tug of pride at her adopted city. “In the Territorial University no less.”

She waited for Ciara to protest the unorthodox arrangement, but her sister seemed to fold in on herself. “I don’t want to go to a university.”

“I do,” Aiden announced, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’ll get to play with bigger boys.”

“It’s not like that,” Maddie explained. “There aren’t enough students of an age to be studying at the university, so the president opened a grammar school.” She was only glad the president was no longer Asa Mercer, for she hadn’t been impressed with him and his grasping ways when he’d brought her and her traveling companions out to Seattle earlier that year. She rose to gather up the dishes.

“Let me,” Michael said, rising as well. He took the dishes and carried them to the sideboard. It was a gentlemanly gesture, but she thought he was merely trying to keep himself too busy to jump into the middle of the conversation.

“I still don’t want to go,” Ciara insisted. “They’re probably mean. Isn’t there an Irish school?”

So that was the problem. Back home, because of the violence, many of the Irish children had learned at their parents’ knees or in groups in a crowded flat.

“No Irish school,” Maddie told her. “No German school either. Here everyone learns together.”

Ciara’s scowl said she didn’t much like that idea.

“It’s a new world we’ve come to,” Michael said. He opened his mouth as if to say more, than clamped it shut again and resolutely turned his face toward the sideboard.

“Indeed it is,” Maddie said. She moved to his side, pointing to the bucket of water waiting for the dishes and then the kettle steaming on the stove. With a nod, he set to work.

Now there was a rare man. Maddie couldn’t help the thought as she returned to her seat and gestured her siblings toward the chairs on each side of her. Da had been good about helping with the children, but her stepmother had been the one to labor over the stove, the dishes and the laundry, even though she worked cleaning houses for the wealthy folks uptown during the day.

Now Ciara returned to the table reluctantly, Aiden with unabashed curiosity.

“Perhaps we should be deciding on some rules,” Maddie said as they took their seats. “We already agreed there’d be no playing on the skid road.”

“You said that,” Ciara grumbled.

Maddie ignored her. Impossible to ignore was the way Michael looked to Maddie with a nod as if encouraging her to continue, or the sight of his muscles as he took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves for the washing.

“I expect you to attend school, do your best,” she told Ciara and Aiden, trying not to think about the man standing behind her with his arms up to the elbows in water. “The quarter started in September, but I’ve made arrangements for you to join the class on Monday.”

Both her siblings paled at that. Maddie pushed on.

“I expect you to be helping around here as well. Aiden, I’ll show you how to pump the water and bring it in. I want a filled bucket in the kitchen and up here. I’ve friends who keep the woodpile stocked, but you’ll need to bring the logs and kindling up here for the stove.”

Aiden grinned. “I can do that.”

Maddie only hoped her sister would be as accepting. “Ciara, your job will be to make the beds in the morning, sweep the floor, watch your brother and help me with the cooking.”

Ciara humphed and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s servant work. Servants should be paid.”

“You aren’t servants,” Maddie said, meeting their gazes in turn. “You’re members of this household. We all work together and we all share the rewards.”

Aiden perked up. “Like cakes.”

Maddie nodded. “Like cakes and the other goods from the bakery. But we cannot be eating all our wares or we’ll have nothing to sell and no money to buy what we need.”

They both sobered at that, nodding their agreement. Like Maddie, they must remember the times when Da and their mum had been out of work, and food had been hard to come by.

“I expect you to be kind to each other and me,” Maddie finished. “And under no circumstances will you allow Amelia Batterby out of doors. She’ll run off or be eaten by one of the fearsome creatures in the woods, bears and cougars and wolves. Neither of you is to go into the forest alone. Take an adult who knows the area with you.”

She couldn’t help glancing at Michael. He had stopped washing at some point and was listening to her, his head cocked so that a lock of black hair fell over his forehead. Why did her fingers itch to tuck it back?

Now he nodded agreement but did not offer commentary. She’d asked him to stay out of her business, but his silence somehow felt worse than his interference.

She turned back to her siblings. Aiden was already fidgeting in his chair, gaze toward his bedroom door, where Amelia Batterby was giving herself a bath. Ciara was watching Maddie with a smug smile, as if she knew Maddie was having trouble keeping a dark-haired Irishman out of her thoughts.

“Off to bed with you, then,” Maddie told them. “I’ll come hear your prayers shortly.”

They seemed to accept that, for they rose and left her for their rooms. She turned to Michael. “Well, Mr. Haggerty? Have you nothing to say about the matter?”

He shrugged, hands splashing in the water. “Not my place to say, as you pointed out. But if you want my opinion, I think you handled that well.”

She wasn’t sure why that warmed her so. She didn’t need his approval. She didn’t need his help. She certainly didn’t need his distracting presence.

“Thank you,” she said, determined to be no more than polite. She eyed him a moment. He’d rubbed soap on her dishrag, and the bubbles were dripping from his fingers. Long, strong fingers they were also meant for far more than washing her dishes or eating her biscuits.

Maddie drew in a breath, preparing herself to take up the next difficult subject. “And then, Mr. Haggerty,” she said, “there’s the matter of what I’m supposed to do with you.”

* * *

So she’d come to a decision. Michael could tell by the way she raised her chin. Though he stood taller in response, he couldn’t match her for seriousness.

“I’m a bit old to go to school like Ciara and Aiden,” he offered, trying not to smile.

“You’re never too old to learn,” she countered. “And I imagine the university president would be over the moon to have a second student old enough to graduate. But going to school won’t be paying your debt, which is what you said you wanted.”

More than anything. But to pay his debt to her, he needed work, either at her bakery or at some other business in Seattle.

“So what, then?” he asked.

She nodded toward the floor. “You can sleep near the stove, and I’ll provide you food until you can provide for yourself. I haven’t a blanket to spare right now with the children arriving. Did you bring bedclothes with you?”

“Sylvie sent a blanket with me for the boat,” he said. “I can use that.”

“Good. Sure-n it won’t be a soft bed, but I’ve had worse.”

Had she? He knew she and the children had lived in the tenements of Five Points, most of which were furnished with beds. It was the number of people sharing those beds, as entire families crowded into a single room, that made life difficult.

“After I’ve finished the morning baking,” she continued, “I’ll show you the doing of the laundry.”

That ought to be less than amusing. Him, Irishtown’s finest, doing laundry. But he was determined to pay her back, so he merely nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She made a face, nose scrunching and mouth tightening into a bow. “And you can stop calling me ‘ma’am,’” she told him. “You make me feel as old as a granny.”

He couldn’t help his grin at that. No granny he’d ever known had looked half so fetching with her eyes snapping fire.

“Yes, Miss O’Rourke,” he agreed.

She blew out a breath. “Would it be killing you to call me Maddie?”

“No trouble at all, Maddie,” he assured her, liking the feel of the name on his tongue. “And you might try calling me Michael. It’s a mite easier to say than Mr. Haggerty.”

She gave him a nod, but didn’t come out and say his first name. “Very well. Then there’s the matter of the rules.”

“I heard them,” Michael said. “And I’ll honor them. Since I don’t know the area, I won’t be taking the children on any outings among the trees.”

“You’ll not be taking the children on outings anywhere,” she informed him. “I told you—you may sleep here and eat here, and it goes without saying that you’ll be doing the laundry here until you find a job. I can see the effort you’re making not to come between me and Ciara and Aiden, and I thank you for it. But the sooner you find work and a place of your own, the better it will be for all of us.”

He knew she was right, yet still a part of him balked. He’d spent nearly three months watching over Ciara and Aiden, rejoicing with them when they excelled, encouraging them when they feared, admonishing them when they strayed. She couldn’t ask him to simply turn off those feelings, leave the children behind like unwanted baggage.

But tonight might not be the best moment to argue his case. The better approach would be to bide his time, show her how helpful he could be. Then maybe she’d let him remain a part of Ciara’s and Aiden’s lives. He’d had to leave everyone else he loved back in New York. They were his last ties to his old life.

“I’ll start looking for work tomorrow,” he promised. “As soon as I finish the little tasks you have for me.”

Her smile curved up. “You might not be calling my laundry little once you’ve seen the piles awaiting you, Michael Haggerty. Finish the dishes if you’ve the will. I’ll be back shortly.” She turned and swept toward Aiden’s room.

She was going to make him earn every penny of that ticket money. He found he didn’t mind. His gaze followed her into the bedchamber, where Aiden knelt beside his bed with bowed head. Maddie gathered up her skirts and knelt beside him, listening as the boy murmured prayers for friends and family.

Michael rubbed at the plates in the cooling water, his own mind turning upward. Prayer comes easily for him, Father. There have been times it didn’t come so easily for me. Thank You for new opportunities. Help me to make the most of them.

Aiden climbed into bed, and Maddie pulled the covers up around him. As if granting Aiden’s earlier request, Amelia Batterby leaped up and curled onto the foot. Bending, Maddie pressed a kiss against her brother’s forehead. Michael felt as if her lips touched his skin instead, gentle, sweet.

What was wrong with him? So what if she was as pretty as Katie? He wasn’t going to let a woman, particularly one he wasn’t so sure about, into his confidence again.

He still remembered the first time he’d seen Katie, the way she’d smiled, the sunlight on her golden hair. He’d felt top of the world when she’d singled him out of all her suitors. He’d thought them both in love, but she’d had her eyes on a brighter future, one that involved fame won at the misfortune of others. He couldn’t be that man.

He tried to focus on his work, rinsing off the dishes in a bowl of water one at a time, then drying them, but the simple task could not take his mind off what was happening in the other room. Now Ciara was saying her prayers with Maddie, hands clasped and face lifted up. Sylvie used to kneel at his side when he was Ciara’s age, encouraging him, guiding him. Good for Maddie for wanting to take that role with her siblings.

“And bless the Dead Rabbits and all those who work to protect us,” Ciara said.

Michael stiffened. He could see Maddie raise her head as well. The gang had cost more than one of Sylvie’s children a parent, forced Michael out of his home and job. Why would Ciara want to bless them?

“Sure-n it’s a fine thing to bless your enemies,” he heard Maddie say. “Perhaps we should ask the Lord to change their hearts instead, help them use their influence to the good.”

“They already do,” Ciara protested, but Maddie must have given her a look, for she humphed and raised her eyes again. “And help the Dead Rabbits do more good things. And make Katie O’Doul sorry she ever hurt Michael.”

Michael nearly dropped the plate. He shouldn’t be surprised Ciara knew about Katie’s defection. He and his aunt had talked about the matter often enough in the evenings when they thought the children were asleep. But Sylvie’s flat was small and cramped; nothing remained a secret for long. And much as a part of him would once have considered asking the Lord for vengeance, he knew it was wrong. Katie had made her choice just as he had, and they each must live with the consequences.

“Are you sure that’s how you want to be ending your prayers?” Maddie prompted her sister.

Ciara humphed again. “Fine.” She cleared her throat. “And I suppose You should help Katie O’Doul do Your will as well. Amen.” She dropped her hands. “Now will you leave me be?”

Maddie leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Only after I’ve wished you sweet dreams, me darling girl. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Well, of course,” Ciara said, but her cheeks were a pleased pink as Maddie took the lamp and left the room.

He thought she might turn in for the night as well, but she joined him at the sideboard and plucked the towel from his shoulder as if intending to help him finish his task. Her sigh told him she was none too sure about her siblings.

“They’re settling in already,” he told her. “It will only get easier from here.”

“I hope you’re right,” Maddie said, taking the dishes he’d already dried and stacking them on the shelves above the sideboard. “It would be nice if something was easy.”

“That was a long boat ride coming out here,” he said, offering her a smile.

She chuckled. “Try it with sixty-odd females all determined to find a mate before they even reach shore.”

He decided not to tell her about the stories in the newspaper. “You arrived unscathed.”

“Unscathed and unwed and thankful for both,” she assured him. She accepted the last plate from him, and their fingers brushed. Her touch was warmer than the water.

He shook the suds off his hands, feeling as if he needed to shake off the feelings she raised in him as well. “I thought Asa Mercer brought all you ladies just to wed.”

Her face was reddening. “Sure-n and he didn’t tell us that he had the husbands all picked out until we were almost here! He even accepted bride prices for us. Well, I wanted no part of that. I came here for one reason—to make a home for Ciara and Aiden, and forget all about New York.”

They had that in common, the need to start over. “Sylvie said you lost your father and stepmother in the tenement fire last year,” Michael murmured. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“’Twas a sad, sad time,” she answered, setting the plate on the shelf. “I just wanted to hold Ciara and Aiden close, never let go. Leaving them behind was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, for all I knew it was the only way. I had to go somewhere I could be more, so I could be enough for them.” She glanced toward him. “I suppose that makes no sense to you.”

“More than you might think,” he said, remembering his reasons for leaving New York. “What should I do with this water?”

“Leave it by the door to the stairs. I’ll take it down with me in the morning and use it to scrub the floors.”

She stepped away from the shelf with a nod as if satisfied with their work and turned for her room. Though she left the lamp on the table, he felt as if some of the light went with her.

She’d taken only a couple of steps, however, before she turned to face him. “Thank you for your help, Michael Haggerty. Now if you’ll be so good as to answer a question or two for me.”

Michael toweled off his hands. “What do you want to know?”

She gazed up at him, the light shining in her dark brown eyes. “Are you involved with the Dead Rabbits?”

Had Sylvie written to her? But no, Maddie had been surprised to see him on the pier. It must have been Ciara’s prayer that had raised the question in Maddie’s mind.

“I’ll have no truck with gangs,” Michael promised her.

She seemed to accept that, and he relaxed.

Her next question, however, drove all thought from his mind.

“So, who is Katie O’Doul?” Maddie asked, watching him. “And why would Ciara wish her to regret how she hurt you?”

Chapter Five

Maddie watched as Michael’s eyes dilated until the blue seemed as vast as the sky. Did he know that his face gave him away? She could see every thought, every hope on those firm features.

He set down the cloth he’d been using on the dishes and stepped away from the bucket. He must have splashed water on himself at some point, because she could see darker spots on his shirt. He took a deep breath as if determined to give her a good answer. She found herself holding her own breath, waiting.

“I courted Miss O’Doul for a time,” he said slowly, as if measuring each word as she might have measured an ingredient for her baking. “She decided we would not suit.”

As simple as that. She wasn’t sure why she was certain there was more to the story. Perhaps it was the tense line of his body, poised as if ready to escape. It was none of her affair, yet she felt as miffed as Ciara had been about Miss O’Doul’s decision.

“Well, then,” she told him. “I’ll know how to help Ciara pray in the future. Sure-n but it’s intelligence and wisdom Miss O’Doul must be lacking to refuse a fine upstanding gentleman like yourself.”

She’d hoped for a smile, but he turned away from her. The hurt went deeper than she’d thought, or perhaps it was merely too soon for him to feel comfortable joking about it.

“If there’s nothing else you need from me tonight, Maddie,” he said, “I’ll be turning in.”

All at once she wanted more. There was nothing wrong with two people from common backgrounds sitting at a table, swapping tales, perhaps sharing a chuckle. She’d seen her friend Allegra and her husband, Clay, behave that way aboard ship, and Maddie had thought it a shame her father and stepmother hadn’t managed that kind of relationship. They’d each put so much time and energy into keeping the family fed and housed that they’d nothing left for companionship. It must be her own hard work that had her thinking about a quiet cup of tea with a friend just then.

Besides, why be companionable with a man who would be in her life less than a month if she had her preferences?

“I need nothing from you, Mr. Haggerty,” she said, turning for her room. “I’ll wish you good-night and see you in the morning.”

* * *

A distant thunk woke Michael from a deep sleep. He shifted on the hard planks of the floor, listening. It couldn’t be morning. Not a ray of light came through the curtains, and the room was as dark as it had been when he’d blown out the lamp and gone to sleep, bundled in front of the stove.

He’d thought between his sparse bedding and his busy mind he would have difficulty sleeping. Lord knew Katie’s betrayal had kept him up more than one night. He still remembered the cold glitter of her green eyes when she’d informed him she wanted nothing more to do with him.

“As if anyone could ask me to be marrying a coward,” she’d flung at him from the doorway of her father’s flat.

Michael had fisted his hands at his sides, knowing that half the tenement was listening to their argument. “I’m no coward. But a woman who claims to love me wouldn’t ask me to make myself a liar and a thief.”

“You think only of yourself,” she’d complained, delicate chin high with righteousness. “I’ll be having nothing more to do with you, Michael Haggerty, until you’ve begged the pardon of those fine men who asked you for a paltry favor you cannot be bringing yourself to grant.” And she’d slammed the door in his face.

Paltry favor. Michael wrapped the blanket closer now. The coals had cooled, leaving the room as chilly as Katie’s parting look. Katie’s father had asked Michael to lie to the man who’d hired him to keep watch on the ships at shore. Michael was to betray his employer’s trust and look the other way while the Dead Rabbits pillaged what they liked from those they found beneath them. Nothing about that was paltry.

How could I ever have looked at myself in the mirror again, Lord? How would I have explained myself to You when I see You face-to-face one day?

He knew he’d made the right choice. But the gang’s reaction had put his life in danger and threatened Sylvie and her children as well. He could only hope the gang’s tentacles didn’t reach across the nation to the frontier.

Another thump had him stiffening on the floor. Turning his head, he could just make out the three doors across from him that led to Maddie’s, Ciara’s and Aiden’s rooms. No one seemed to be stirring, not even the little gray cat. What had caused that sound?

As he eased up on one elbow, he heard more noises—a thud, a creak, a murmur of a voice, all coming from below. Had someone broken into the bakery?

He climbed to his feet, thankful he’d worn his shirt and trousers to bed for added warmth. He had no weapon, but he seized the broom and took it with him as he crossed to the stairs in his stockinged feet.

Whoever was below was making enough noise that the sounds of Michael’s footsteps on the stairs went unnoticed. The shop stood empty, waiting for the morning’s customers. He crept to the curtain, then whipped it aside with his free hand and sprang into the kitchen with a yell, broom handle raised above his head.

Maddie dropped the pot she’d been holding with a clang. “What!”

She was alone in the room, crouching by the firebox, her black-and-white-striped cotton gown swathed in an apron and pooled about her. Her red hair wilted around her face, like steamed cabbage, and the warmth of the room struck him for the first time. He could hear the heat crackling in the firebox, and the scent of something moist and tangy hung in the air.

Michael lowered the broom. “What are you doing so early?”

She threw up her hands, sending flour puffing in all directions. “My job, if you’ll let me.”

She pushed off from the floor and swept up to the worktable, which was draped in checkered cloth. Whipping off the material, she nodded to the two dozen mounds of dough, white and puffy, and pans of rolls, cinnamon showing in each swirl. He set the broom in the corner and ventured closer, mouth starting to water.

“Forgive me,” he told her. “I heard a noise, and I thought we were being robbed.”

She chuckled as she shook out the cloth. “No robbers,” she said, folding it up and tucking it under the worktable. “If one stuck his head in the door right now, I’d put him to work.”

Doing what? By the dirty bowls and pans stacked on the sideboard and the speckles on her apron, she’d already finished for the morning. How early had she risen?

“What else do you need done?” he asked.

She eyed him a moment as if trying to decide whether he was teasing. Then she raised her flour-dusted hand and began counting off the remaining tasks on her fingers.

“I have to finish preparing the oven, put in the bread and rolls, gather the eggs, brush and turn the bread and make icing for the cinnamon rolls, all before my customers arrive on their way to work.”

That didn’t sound so daunting. “Then you might as well put me to work,” Michael said. “I’m up anyway.”

She pointed to a door at the back of the kitchen. “There’s a rake and a pail in the shed. Bring them in and muck out the firebox.”

Michael frowned. “You want to clear out the fire before you start baking?”

“’Tis the hot bricks that bake the bread, Mr. Haggerty,” she informed him. “And don’t you be questioning my work like you question the raising of Ciara and Aiden.”

Michael held up his hands in surrender and went to do as she asked.

Sylvie had baked from time to time, when she could use a neighbor’s oven. He’d never realized there was so much to be done, and all at a rhythm only Maddie seemed to understand. Under her direction, he raked the hot coals into the pail and closed the lid, then swept out the ashes. Taking a long-handled wooden paddle from where it hung on the wall and resting it on the table, she dusted it with flour and then began shifting the rounded loaves onto it.

As she grabbed the handle, Michael stepped forward. “Let me.”

Brow raised, she moved aside. “Just you be careful with my peel, Mr. Haggerty.”

He had a feeling he was going to hear the name Michael from those pink lips only when he’d done something magnificent. He lifted the paddle and was surprised by the weight. With the oven set above her waist, how did she manage?

As if she saw his surprise, she smiled and reached for the peel. “Here, let me. Watch now. There’s a trick to putting them in so you can bake the most.” She nodded toward the oven, and Michael hurried to open the iron door for her. Heat blasted him, raising sweat on his forehead and neck. With a deft movement, she stuck in the paddle, lifted the end and slid the loaves onto the brick. It took her three trips to transfer everything into the oven. Michael shut the door for the last time, and she closed the damper.

“Now we wait,” he guessed.

She laughed. “Now we hurry, Mr. Haggerty.”

And hurry they did. While Maddie went outside with a basket to gather eggs, Michael began washing the dishes. She took one of the bowls, then shaved sugar from a cone, pounded it to powder with a pestle and mixed it with water for icing. Next, she mixed dough for cookies, rolled and cut them to lay them on a sheet, and popped them into the oven after she had removed the bread and rolls to cool. She never sat down, never stopped moving, even when he helped her carry her wares out to the shop to set them on display.

The newly risen sun was gilding the signs of the merchants across the street as Michael glanced out the panes of the front window. But what took him aback were the faces pressed against the glass.

“Me charming customers,” Maddie assured him. She pointed toward the stairs. “Go on, now. Take some of the cinnamon rolls upstairs for you and Ciara and Aiden. I should be finished here in a half hour.”

All that bread, all those rolls and cookies, gone in a half hour? He couldn’t believe it. She’d be working for hours to sell all that. As she went to open the latch, he picked up three of the rolls, then headed for the stairs. Glancing back, he saw her throw wide the door.

And every man in Seattle, he thought, stampeded into the shop. Dressed in flannel shirts and rough trousers, caps pulled down over their lank hair, bushy beards bristling, they crowded the counter, the sound of their heavy boots against the wood planks as loud as thunder. Voices rose in entreaty, hands held out coins. They were the happiest gang of rioters he’d ever seen.

One of the men with a deep voice managed to make himself heard over the din. “Whatcha got for us today, Miss Maddie?”

“Cinnamon rolls dripping icing,” Maddie assured him, beaming around at them all. “Fresh-baked bread with the steam still rising and gingersnaps to tickle your tongue.” She waved one arm down the display counter as if presenting jewels to royalty.

“I’ll take one of each,” someone declared.

“I’ll take two!” another shouted.

Voices rose louder as they surged forward.

How could he leave her surrounded?

Michael wasn’t sure how he heard the noise on the stair. Looking back, he saw Ciara creeping toward him. Her brown hair was tumbled into her face, and she hugged a plaid flannel wrapper around her nightgown.

“Is it the mob?” she whispered, face pinched. “Have they come for us, then?”

She must be remembering the violence that had cut like metal through the fabric of life in Five Points, as the Dead Rabbits clashed with other gangs.

“Just some happy customers come to sample your sister’s baking,” Michael assured her. He handed her the rolls. “Take these upstairs for you and your brother. I’ll be up shortly.”

Her face brightened as she accepted the rolls. Holding them close, she scurried back up the stairs.

Michael turned to the fray. Maddie was handing out loaves, rolls and cookies at breathtaking speed and grabbing payments even faster. He wasn’t sure how she knew which came from whom. He started to wade through the men, but they squeezed closer, frowning at him as if thinking he was trying to reach the food before they did. He was only thankful he could match or better the muscle arrayed against him.

With the liberal use of his shoulders, he managed to reach the counter and slide in next to Maddie. “How can I help?”

“Take their money and give them what they want,” she said, turning her smile on the next fellow. The wizened man asked for a roll and a half-dozen cookies, and she named an exorbitant price that would have set the denizens of Five Points to crying with despair or laughing at the sheer lunacy of it. The man piled his silver on the counter, offering a toothless grin.

“How about you?” Michael asked the next fellow.

This man was tall and lean, short-cropped dark hair showing under the edge of a broad-brimmed black hat. His gaze swept over Michael as cold and gray as the Confederate cannon on display in the Battery.

“I’ll wait for Miss O’Rourke,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

Was he a suitor? She certainly hadn’t mentioned a particular fellow. In fact, she’d seemed pretty against marriage last night.

“Suit yourself,” Michael told him.

He tried the next man over and the one after him, but the answer was always the same. Even though the food was disappearing by the moment, every man was content to wait until Maddie could serve him personally.

That’s when it struck Michael. They weren’t here because they loved Maddie’s baking. They were here because they loved Maddie!

He wanted to throw wide his arms, shove them all out of the shop right then and there. They had no right to treat her as if she was one of her own confections, available for a smile and some pieces of silver. Yet even as the thought poked at him, he knew it was none of his affair. In the end, the only way he could help matters was to control the crowd.

Stalking around the edges, shoulders thrown back and eyes narrowed, he managed to herd the men into some semblance of a line. At least then they couldn’t all rush her at once. He yanked back a few who tried to push ahead before their turn, made one fellow sit down on the floor when he shouted for her attention. One by one, they bought their food and left.

A gentle rain had begun to fall as he opened the door to let out the last two men. The one who had first refused Michael’s services paused to glance back at Maddie.

“Hired a man-of-all-work, have you now, Miss O’Rourke?”

Maddie’s smile was as sweet as the icing on her rolls. “Mr. Haggerty brought my sister and brother to me on the ship, Deputy McCormick. He’s staying with us until he finds a job.”

Deputy. So this was the law in Seattle. Michael met his gaze straight on, refusing to be the one to look away first. The deputy’s steely eyes narrowed.

“Yesler is looking for another man on his saws,” the lawman offered. “Long hours but good pay. And there are rooms at Patterson’s boardinghouse by the mill.”

Michael nodded, relaxing. “My thanks to you. I’ll go by the mill today.”

Deputy McCormick touched the brim of his black hat to Maddie, then stalked out.

As Michael shut the door behind him, Maddie collapsed against the counter. “Like ravens, they are, swooping in to devour.” She glanced around the empty counter and smiled. “But they are loyal, bless them.”

Surely she knew it went beyond loyalty. “They’re sweet on you, every last one of them,” Michael told her.

She tsked, pushing off from the counter. “It isn’t me. They act that way with every unmarried female within miles, all twenty of us.”

Michael found that hard to believe. “They’d pay those kind of prices to any woman?”

Maddie shrugged as if the matter were out of her hands. “There are nine men for every female over the age of twelve here. Before we came on the Continental, fellows were paying fathers to hold their newborn daughter to marry when she was of age, just so they’d know they’d have a wife someday.”

“That’s madness,” Michael said, stepping away from the door.

“That’s loneliness,” Maddie countered, pulling open the curtain to the kitchen. “I suppose they think it’s better to have a spouse than live alone. Can’t say I agree with them.”

Was she so willing to encourage her customers, only to leave the men dangling? He couldn’t help thinking of Katie, with her sweet smiles and warm words, until he’d refused to risk his future to help the Dead Rabbits. He’d wondered whether she was the only woman to think her power was more important than her suitor’s love. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed to find Maddie O’Rourke might think the same way.

Michael followed her into the kitchen. “With dozens of suitors to choose from, you haven’t found one to your liking?” he asked, trying for a light tone. “Are your standards so high, Maddie?”

She chuckled as she pulled a canister from under her worktable and pried off the lid. “Sure-n I could find more than one fellow in that lot to marry, if marriage was important to me.” She jingled the coins she drew from her skirts and dropped them into the tin with a clank. “As it is, if I marry I have to share all this. Why would I want to be doing that, when it’s my efforts that earned it in the first place?”

He couldn’t argue with her there. He knew the law generally granted any money a woman earned to her husband. But to be so coldhearted about it? That didn’t make sense.

She cocked her head, watching him. “You look disappointed in my answer. Did you think I should give up my dreams to marry? You never let love get in the way of your goals, did you now? You wouldn’t have let your Katie sway you from your intended course.”

“I fell in love,” he admitted, “but I never lost sight of my goals. If I had been willing to compromise my values, I might be married by now.”

“Love is compromise from what I can see,” she said, going to the washbasin, wetting a cloth and wringing it out. “You work and work to put food on the table and clothes on your back, until there’s no time left for love. Sure-n but we’re better off without such heartache.” She tossed him the rag, and he caught it in one hand. “Use that to clean off the counter. I’ll go up to check on Ciara and Aiden, and then I’ll start the baking for this evening.”

In the act of pushing back into the shop, Michael paused. “More baking?”

She laughed. “You make it sound as pleasant as the rack. Yes, more baking. That’s my job. This is a bakery, and I bake. I was hoping for a lady to come with Ciara and Aiden to help, if you recall.”

And she’d gotten him instead. “I’m sorry I can’t be more use to you,” he said, “but I’ll do what I can.” Feeling inept for the first time in his life, he went to clean off the counter, wiping away the crumbs and scrubbing at the drips of icing. Yet her words refused to leave him.

He wanted to agree with her that love meant heartache. He’d certainly had his fill. But some part of him whispered that more might be possible, if he would but try once again.

He had been so focused on his task that he didn’t see her move into the room. Instead, he felt her hand on his arm.

“Good enough, Mr. Haggerty,” she said. “Another minute and you’ll rub right through the wood.”

He relaxed his hand, feeling her grip soften. She was close enough that he could see a dusting of freckles across the tip of her nose, as if ginger had escaped some of her cookies. Cinnamon-colored lashes fluttered over eyes as dark as fresh-roasted coffee.

Michael mentally shook himself. Working in the bakery must have addled his brain, because all he could think about was that her kiss would taste as sweet as her cooking.

“Are they gone?” Ciara asked from the stair.

Maddie stepped away from Michael, cheeks turning pink as if she’d been the one thinking about sweet kisses.

“For the moment,” she told her sister. “There will be another group coming later, when the shift changes at the mill. I aim to have more loaves of bread and dozens of cookies ready by then along with the ones I promised Mr. Horton.”

With her chin up, she was all determination, and Michael could only marvel at her energy.

But even more surprising was his reaction to her. He’d given his heart to Katie. He’d never thought to give it to another. And she’d made it clear that, while she might flirt with her customers, she had no interest in marrying.

Why, then, did he want her to reserve her flirting for him?

Chapter Six

Maddie could only be glad for her sister’s interruption. For a moment, with her hand on Michael’s burly arm, she had felt as if the earth had tilted, pushing her toward him. Why? It was all well and good to talk about true loves and lost hearts, but in the end she’d only be disappointed. She had too much evidence to think otherwise.

So, broad-shouldered or not, charming smile or not, Michael Haggerty would get no further in her affections. She knew her plans, and they did not include forming an attachment to any fellow, no matter how helpful and well-meaning.

Standing at the foot of the stairs now, Ciara scrunched her face. “More work, more noise? What sort of place is this?”

Her sister’s complaints were like touching a hot stove with her bare hand—sharp and painful. She’d worked so hard to make a home for Ciara and Aiden. Could her sister not appreciate the effort?

“This is a home with plenty of food to eat,” Maddie told her. “That’s a blessing.”

Ciara shrugged. “The rolls were good. But I’m not going to sit in my room all day while you have all the fun.”

“Fun, is it?” Maddie said, temper rising. “Perhaps I ought to wake you at three in the morning to help knead tomorrow’s dough.”

Her sister scowled at her.

Michael leaned his hip against the counter. “You seemed awfully pleased with that room yesterday,” he reminded Ciara.

The girl eyed him. “It’s nice too, I suppose.”

What crumbs of affection she offered! Had her sister no understanding? Maddie tightened her lips to hold back a scold.

Michael merely smiled at Ciara. “But you have the urge to wander, is that it?” he teased with a look to Maddie.

Maddie blinked. Of course! That must be the source of today’s animosity. Ciara and Aiden had been cooped up aboard ship for months. It was only natural that they’d want to get out, explore their new home. And that was one yearning she could satisfy.

“Let’s go see Seattle,” Maddie told Ciara. “Make sure you and Aiden are ready for the day. Do your chores as I asked. I’ll mix up the next batch of dough. We can take a walk while it rises and I can make a delivery.”

“All right,” Ciara agreed. “But don’t expect me to hold your hand while we walk. I’m not a child, you know.” She turned and flounced up the stairs.

“Nicely done,” Michael said, straightening away from the counter.

“Thank you,” Maddie replied. “But I was only following your lead.”

He smiled. “Glad to help. I’ll join you on your walk, if I may, so I’ll know where to start looking for work.”

“Of course,” Maddie said. “But perhaps you should be putting on shoes first.”

He glanced down at his stockinged feet, the thick gray yarn darkened with grime after he’d traipsed across the floorboards so many times, then rubbed the dark stubble speckling his chin. “And I should shave as well,” he said before he pounded up the stairs.

A short while later, the four of them left the front of the bakery. Maddie was careful to lock the door behind her. Seattle was remarkably free from crime, especially compared with Five Points, but she wasn’t taking any chances with her livelihood. She could only hope today Michael might find an opportunity for a livelihood of his own.

“What sort of work are you seeking?” she asked, Mr. Porter’s shirts tucked under one arm as they strolled down the boardwalk. The bakery was the last shop on the street, but she knew Seattle would only grow from there. Already someone else was building a new store down the block.

Michael eyed her over Ciara’s head. “I’ll take whatever I can get for the moment. I just want to pay my way.”

“Well, you ought to find something here,” she said, lifting her skirts to navigate a gap in the boardwalk. Ciara hopped from hump to hump, but Aiden slogged merrily through the puddles. A breeze came in off the water, moist and briny, setting the clapboard signs above them to creaking as she climbed onto the next stretch of boardwalk.

Ahead of them, the door of a mercantile opened and three natives exited, murmuring in husky voices. Hair slicked down and smelling of aromatic oils, colorful blankets draping their sturdy frames, they moved past Maddie and the children with dignity born of sorrows. Maddie nodded respectfully to them. Aiden stopped and stared.

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