Page 11 of A Wager with the Matchmaker (A Shanahan Match #3)

11

Zaira was a talented writer. ’Twas easy to see.

Alannah used an insert sign and wrote a missing word in the margin of the page open before her. Now that she was nearing the end of the manuscript, she was having a harder time giving feedback and not getting lost in the story itself.

Sitting in the grass in the shade behind the summer kitchen, she’d been editing for the past hour while Zaira took her position inside the kitchen, helping Cook clean up the evening meal.

It felt awkward to switch places and hand her apron over to Zaira. But whenever she protested, the young woman smiled brightly and claimed it was the least she could do to allow Alannah the time she needed to edit.

Alannah had tried to work on the manuscript at night in her room. But with how exhausted she was, sitting on her bed invariably led to her falling asleep, which was one more reason why she liked reading outside, so she didn’t fall asleep so easily.

She’d considered bringing the manuscript with her during her nightly ventures to the field. But with Kiernan joining her every night for the past week, she’d hadn’t wanted to reveal Zaira’s secret. She didn’t think Kiernan would mind that his sister was writing a novel and trying to get it published, but the decision to involve Kiernan was Zaira’s.

Besides, even if Alannah brought the manuscript out to the blanket, she wasn’t sure how much work she would have accomplished with Kiernan sitting there beside her. On a couple of occasions, he’d brought a book, too, but he’d only read for a little while before he closed it.

Whenever he did that, she put her book down, too, even though he insisted that she keep reading. The truth was, she was more interested in talking to him than reading anything written on the pages.

And ... he was too distracting lying on the blanket with his arms crossed behind his head and his muscular body stretched out in all its brawny glory. Without his cravat and vest and coat, he seemed more at ease. Sometimes he even had a button or two of his shirt undone or his cuffs rolled up.

Besides, when she kept reading, he watched her, making her self-conscious. Every time she glanced at him, he pretended to study the stars and told her he was there to make sure she was safe.

But it was more than that. ... At least, it felt that way to her.

Alannah paused with her pencil above Zaira’s manuscript and smiled. She couldn’t help it. Kiernan made her happy. Spending time with him was satisfying enough, even when they weren’t talking. But she loved their conversations too. He was interesting, and they could discuss just about anything.

He’d asked her lots of questions about what her life had been like in Ireland, and she’d shared all about her childhood and family. Likewise she’d asked him about his childhood and his family and each of his siblings and his experiences with growing up in St. Louis.

They’d talked about their plans and dreams for the future along with their fears and worries. They’d discussed the problems in Missouri and in St. Louis, particularly among the newly arriving immigrants. And, of course, they’d talked about the gang concerns for Torin.

She was finding that she and Kiernan could converse about everything ... except for their relationship. It was too awkward to talk about Bellamy and his matchmaking between them, especially because Kiernan had admitted he was still trying to figure out what to do next.

The last thing she wanted to do was push him into something he wasn’t ready for. That’s why she’d suggested starting out with friendship. Maybe if they learned to be friends, eventually he’d like her as more.

That was working for her. She was liking him more with every passing day.

She stared ahead to the spot where she and Kiernan usually met, the tall grass conspicuously flattened in just one area but growing in profusion everywhere else in the meadow along with the wildflowers.

How could she not like him after he’d given her a second book just two nights ago, another Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice ? A man who gave her books was a man who knew the way into her heart.

He was wonderful.

She released a happy sigh. Was God finally smiling down on her?

For so long, God had felt far away, even angry. But she supposed He had every right to be angry. She hadn’t exactly been living an upright life over the years before she’d immigrated. She could blame Hugh’s influence—his penchant for parties and drinking and dancing. But she could have told him no. Instead, she’d gone along with him all too often and had indulged in the same vices.

Sometimes she wondered if God had punished her by taking away her family. Even if He hadn’t directly punished her, at the very least He hadn’t been pleased enough to take her side over recent years.

Was that changing now that she’d put the vices out of her life and was living more uprightly? Would God give her something good? Maybe Kiernan?

She dropped her attention back to Zaira’s manuscript and poised the pencil above the next line of fine penmanship. Before she could take in a word, hands snaked around her face from behind and covered her eyes.

She startled, and a bubble of panic welled inside her chest. What was happening? Had she grown too comfortable at Oakland, and had Shaw Farrell discovered where she was?

Kiernan had been keeping her apprised of the few times that anyone from the Farrell gang had shown up at the brickyard. They hadn’t come inside, but it was clear they were still after Torin.

Did that mean Shaw was still after her too?

With a jab of her elbow, she wrestled against the hold.

Behind her came a familiar laugh. Torin’s.

She stopped her struggling. “Torin Darragh. You’re a beast for scaring me to death.”

He released her and stepped around in front of her. With a wide grin, he peered down, his bright blue eyes behind his spectacles filled with tenderness. His fair hair was overlong and in need of a trim and his scruffy face in need of a shave. But otherwise, he appeared to be healthy, his wiry body filled out and his muscles well rounded.

“It’s about time you came to visit,” she chided as she set aside Zaira’s manuscript and rose to her feet.

Torin was surveying her, taking her in from her head to her toes, likely reassuring himself that she wasn’t harmed or in want. She didn’t wait for him to finish and instead launched herself against him.

His arms encircled her at the same time she embraced him. For a long moment, she just hugged him, wishing she could see him more often. When she pulled back, she held him at arm’s length and examined him more carefully.

Even though Kiernan had kept her well informed on Torin’s doings, she couldn’t keep from peppering him with questions. “How are you doing? How is work at the brickyard? Are you getting enough to eat? Are you staying safe?”

“Whoa, now.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded her of their da. “I’m fine. I can hold my own.”

Torin had already proven he could survive danger many times over. After all, he’d survived his time as a rebel with the Young Irelanders. He’d survived the hunger and the ship voyage to America. He’d survived the first difficult year of living in St. Louis. And he was still surviving against the gang rivals determined to punish him.

Torin was an intelligent man, and she admired him for his strength of mind and body.

He surveyed the thick trees that bordered Oakland, his eyes narrowing. He probably had a friend or two keeping watch in the woods. He never went anywhere without his companions from the Saints Alley gang. If there was one good thing about gangs, at least they looked out for each other.

It’s just that Torin wouldn’t have needed looking out for if he’d never joined a gang in the first place.

He shifted his attention back to her. “How have you been?”

She couldn’t contain a smile. “I love it here.”

“You do?” His eyes held uncertainty and hope, as though he desperately wanted to believe her.

“I do.” The workload was still difficult and endless, but as long as she could spend time with Kiernan as well as read her books, she would be satisfied.

“I didn’t believe Mr. Shanahan when he told me to call off the matchmaking. But it looks like he was right, that you’re happy enough.”

Call off the matchmaking? Surely Torin meant that Kiernan had wanted the matchmaking called off with other fellows except for him .

“I’m happy,” she reassured her brother.

“I’ve been worried about you living here, that maybe Mr. Shanahan would take liberties with you.”

“He’s a good man, Torin.” She didn’t realize how besotted she sounded until his brows dipped into a dangerous glare.

“You like him,” he said in a low, ominous voice.

Something in Torin’s eyes made her hesitate to admit just how much she liked Kiernan.

What if Torin didn’t know that Bellamy had lined up a match with Kiernan? Even if Bellamy hadn’t spoken with Torin about the man he’d picked for her, surely Kiernan had mentioned it. He’d said he’d talk with Torin. But maybe he hadn’t yet done so.

“I told Mr. Shanahan to leave you alone.” Torin hefted his shoulders as though preparing for a fight.

“So you don’t approve of the match?”

“What match?”

“With Kiernan.”

Torin’s brows rose at her use of Kiernan’s given name.

“With Mr. Shanahan,” she quickly corrected herself.

Torin opened his mouth to respond but then didn’t say anything.

It was becoming clearer by the moment that neither Bellamy nor Kiernan had said anything to Torin about the match, and that was strange. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned it either. But now that she had, she might as well clear up his confusion. “When Bellamy met with me a couple of weeks ago, he told me his choice of match for me was Kiernan—Mr. Shanahan.”

“He did?”

“Aye, so he did.”

“Whyever for?” Torin’s confusion only seemed to be increasing by the moment rather than clearing up.

“I didn’t believe Bellamy was serious at first either. But when Kiernan began spending time with me, I realized he’s been giving the match a fair try, just as I have.”

“Blimey.” Torin scrubbed a hand down his mouth and chin. “I never would have expected Mr. Shanahan to agree to something like that. Not with how arrogant he is.”

“He’s not arrogant. He’s actually really wonderful.”

Torin halted. “I was right. You’ve already fallen for him.”

A half laugh escaped her lips. “No. Not yet.” Even as the denial rushed out, her heart thudded with a strange beat. What if Torin was right? Was she was letting herself get too close to Kiernan too soon?

“You better be careful, Alannah. I like Mr. Shanahan. I do. But I’m having a hard time believing he’d settle for a woman of your status.”

She straightened her shoulders and pulled herself up. “Maybe status isn’t as important to him as you think it is.” She’d gotten to know Kiernan better since living at Oakland, and his friendship was proof that he didn’t care about her status, wasn’t it?

At a nearby clanking of a pail, Torin’s eyes darted around again, taking in every detail of the landscape. As his gaze came to rest upon her, it was grave. “I overheard Mr. Shanahan discussing the business plan for the brickyard with his partner. He’s counting on a sizable dowry to help with the expansion. And from what I understand from the rumors going around, he’s been meeting with lots of different ladies who are candidates.”

A knot formed in Alannah’s chest. Was Torin right? “Maybe that was before Bellamy formed the match. Maybe now he’s changed his mind.”

“The conversation took place yesterday.”

“But he’s interested in me.” She hated the desperation in her tone.

Torin cursed under his breath. “I’ll speak with Bellamy. Soon. And I’ll get this figured out.”

Bellamy wouldn’t have misled her. She didn’t know the matchmaker well, but he was too kind to direct her down a path that would lead to nowhere. Of course, he wasn’t God and couldn’t work miracles. But surely he wouldn’t have suggested something impossible.

Even as she tried to defend Bellamy, all her doubts rushed back in. She’d questioned the match with Kiernan all along. Had she been foolish to allow herself any hope?

At a distant whistle, Torin nodded curtly, probably at one of his friends. “I have to nip along.”

“So soon?” She started to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but he was putting himself in danger by leaving the brickyard. What if the Farrell gang had followed him to the Shanahans’?

He gave her another hug. “Be careful, Alannah. Stay away from Mr. Shanahan until I talk to Bellamy.”

She pulled back. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to be telling me what to do.”

“Don’t be a fool.” His tone turned harsh.

“I’m not.”

“Then listen to me for once, lass.”

“I do listen—”

“If you’d listened to me and stayed at the tenement where I told you to, maybe Shaw wouldn’t be hunting for you.”

The hard accusation was like a slap against her cheek, and she drew back with a sharp inhale.

Torin kneaded the back of his neck. “Ach, I’m not meaning that, Alannah. I’m to blame for everything and not you.”

“That’s not true. I’m to blame too.”

At another whistle, he cursed again. “Before I go, I wanted to warn you that we got word the Farrell gang is planning to do something soon. No matter what happens to me, you need to promise to stay here and not show yourself.”

She pressed a hand to her throat. She didn’t want anything more to happen to him, but she was so helpless to protect him.

His expression softened. “I love you, Alannah. Take you care now.” Without waiting for her reply, he jogged toward the nearest area of woodland. He didn’t look back, and within the span of thirty seconds, he disappeared into the dark depths of the brush and trees.

She could only stand watching the spot, her mind reeling with everything she’d learned. One thought crowded to the front more than the others. Kiernan needed a sizable dowry that would help him make his new brickyard successful.

Just last night he’d shared with her how another shaft was nearing completion. In addition to that second mine shaft, he was also building a second kiln, erecting more open storage sheds, purchasing more equipment, and was hoping to at least double the production of bricks by the end of the year. She’d heard the determination in his voice along with the excitement over all he was accomplishing.

She wouldn’t have a dowry and couldn’t possibly help him achieve what he wanted. Torin was right that Kiernan would never settle for a woman of her status. He likely had his sights set on someone else. Maybe he’d even been courting another woman.

A burn began to work its way up her chest and into her cheeks.

There was one way to find out if she’d been making a fool of herself with Kiernan.

Swiping up the manuscript from the grass where she’d left it, she marched around the kitchen to the side door. As she stepped inside, Zaira was standing in front of the sink, scrubbing a pan and telling Cook a story as she did each time she took Alannah’s place in the kitchen.

Cook stood at the center worktable, her preparations for the next day’s meals forgotten, her attention riveted to Zaira. Storytelling was a skill Zaira excelled at whether written or vocal. And she’d spun an almost magical spell over Cook with her tales each visit. As a result, Zaira had garnered a promise that the cook wouldn’t tell anyone about Alannah skipping her duties.

Now as Alannah halted just inside the doorway, one question clamored in her mind. If anyone could answer it, Zaira would be able to with as insightful as she was. “Has your brother, Mr. Shanahan, been matched with anyone by the matchmaker Bellamy McKenna?”

“Bellamy?” Zaira’s brows rose. “That man is a sneaky one, to be sure.”

Alannah was tempted to call out that she didn’t care to hear Zaira’s thoughts about Bellamy. But she swallowed the retort and persisted with her question. “Has he matched your brother with someone yet?”

Zaira lifted the blackened pot from the sink, heedless of the water she was sloshing onto the floor. “From everything I’ve heard, Bellamy’s been busy setting up visits with potential matches for Kiernan. He had a few last week and a couple so far this week.”

So the rumors were true. Kiernan was meeting with other women. Lots of other women. To find a match. Particularly one with a sizable dowry. “You’re certain?”

“I’m not certain of much.” Zaira cast a smile toward Alannah. “But I do know that Kiernan is on a mission to find a bride. And when he’s on a mission, he’ll stop at nothing to succeed.”

Alannah didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. So she did neither and stood mutely.

Bellamy was the one making it all happen. If that was really the case, why had he told her that he wanted to match her with Kiernan? It made no sense. Had she misunderstood the matchmaker? Or maybe he’d changed his mind and hadn’t bothered to tell her.

Whatever the case, she’d made a complete fool of herself in spending time with Kiernan. She never would have done so if Bellamy hadn’t mentioned Kiernan as a potential match. She wouldn’t have been so bold or so forward. And she certainly wouldn’t have presumed he wanted to be her friend.

She hung her head. Saints above. How could she ever face Kiernan again now that she knew the truth? That he hadn’t been considering her for a match. That he really had only been watching over her because she’d been so insistent on going outside by herself.

She couldn’t face him. She would have to avoid him. It was the only way.