Her Irish Surrender (7 page)

Finn’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, you can’t? You aren’t …” he gulped, … afraid are you?”

Lorcan opened his mouth to comment when a huge group of men squeezed their way through the crowd, grabbed Lorcan with a cheer, and started to drag him off.  There had to be at least ten of them, some he recognized, others he didn’t. He yelled at them to let him go but was ignored. Others around them cheered, and money appeared out of each and every pocket. He caught a glimpse of McPhee and his elated expression, and then Finn’s terrified one.  This was his doing, and he knew well the licking he was going to give him, if he ever got his hands on him that is.  Right now there were too many hands on his own body to do much of anything, despite his struggles.  It then began to occur him, he might be forced to fight. He knew well that in some cases when large sums of money were involved, a fighter was no longer a man with a talent and a skill. He became a highly prized possession, and Lorcan wanted nothing to do with any of that.    Sometimes though, a man was given no choice. What had Finn gotten him into?

He was slammed into a corner and forced to a chair.  Hands were everywhere, pulling at his clothes and yanking his boots off. “Stop!” he yelled again. But to no
avail, they ignored him.  He gave several men a good blow, and saw the teeth fly from the mouth of one, when a large fellow, larger than Lorcan at any rate, shoved his way through the mass.

“You!” the brute yelled over the din of the crowd as he pointed to him. “You’re next.”

“What’s the meaning of this? I didn’t agree to fight!”

The giant got in his face as
Lorcan’s wrists and hands were grabbed. “No man says no, to Mr. Brennan.”

“Brennan
?” Lorcan barked. “I don’t know any Brennan!”

The brute smiled. “No, but he knows you.” He looked to the men holding
Lorcan’s arms. “Bring him.”

They shoved, pulled and yanked
Lorcan along, and when they reached the “ring” which tonight consisted of nothing more than a huge group of men circled around four-by-eight foot sheets of wood, he knew he was in for it. The thin wall wasn’t even nailed together, the men were the only thing holding it in place. Half a dozen moved their part of the wall like a gate, and Lorcan was shoved inside, the door quickly shut behind him. By now he was beyond angry, and cursed the men around him in his Irish Gaelic. It was then he noticed they had become quiet, and were looking behind him.

Lorcan turned. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He was going to knock Finn’s teeth out for this. A man, the size the likes of which he’d never seen
, now stood in the ring, his hands already bloodied, probably his last opponent’s.  Lorcan looked at his surroundings more closely and noticed the blood splattered here and there on the wooden wall, one section had a huge crack in it. He swallowed and glanced about for Finn. Knocking his teeth out was too good for him. He’d like to break something, if he got out of this alive that is.

The crowd also stared at the monste
r-sized man in the ring, as another stood. He was in the center of a group of well-dressed men, and their chairs were up on a platform to have the best view of the fight. “Gentlemen,” he began. “You’ll note the leaner build, the height, the breadth of chest …”

Lorcan’s eyes widened. The man was English, well groomed, impeccably dressed. What in Heaven’s name was he doing in Oregon City in the back of an Irishman’s saloon?  And who were the men with him?

“Also note
,” the Englishman continued, “the height and weight of Mr. Stiles. I’m sure the comparisons will make the night most interesting.”

Lorcan shook his head, and felt more lik
e a horse or cow displayed at auction, than a man in a fighting match. He stared hard at the Englishman, who studied him in return before he took his seat. Lorcan’s anger reignited and he stormed toward the men on the platform.  Forcing him to fight wasn’t right, and he’d have no part of it. 

But Lorcan didn’t get the chance to voice his opinion on the matter. The giant in the ring began to move, and Lorcan had to focus his efforts on what was to come,
whether he wanted it to or not.  And as he sidestepped the first blow dealt by his monstrous opponent, he decided the worst fate he could inflict on Finn for getting him into this mess, was to turn him over to his mother. No Irishman with half a brain wanted to fight against Mrs. Meara Brody. There was just no way to win.

* * *

“Do ye think he’ll be all right?” Mr. McPhee asked as Doc Henderson examined Lorcan.

“What were you thinking you pig-headed dote?” the doctor scolded. “He’s lucky to be alive!”

Finn stood, his hat in his hands, twisting it this way and that as they looked down
upon the bloodied body of his friend.  He’d held his own for three rounds, faltered in the fourth and fifth, but came back in the sixth.  The seventh did him in, the giant acting as if bored with the whole affair, and so dealt the deathblow. If it had been any other man fighting, he probably
would
be dead. But not Lorcan, it was why he was the best in Oregon City. Finn glanced over his shoulder at the Englishman and the fighter he’d brought, then swallowed hard. These men were definitely
not
from Oregon City.

“At least he didn’t lose any teeth,” Doc Henderson commented as he continued to clean
Lorcan’s face. “Which of you is going to tell Mrs. Brody?”

McPhee’s shocked face and dropped jaw was his only response. Finn swallowed ag
ain and looked down at Lorcan.  He still hadn’t come around fully, his mind clouded from the blows inflicted upon him. But he would, and when he did, Finn was going to die.  Or at least have his brains knocked out of he head, which he should have done himself for thinking this would turn out well.

“Well done, gentlemen,” the Englishman remarked as he stepped over to them. “I’m sure he’ll recover.”

Finn, McPhee, and Doc Henderson could only stare. A beautiful woman stood behind the Englishman, her face barely showing beneath the lavender cloak she wore.  She stepped forward, and looked down at Lorcan. One hand balled into a fist, and she raised it, as if not sure of what to do, then bent to the still form on the cot. “Is he badly injured?” she asked Doc Henderson. She had an odd accent, and Finn wondered where she was from.

“He’ll live, but his fighting days are over. At least they should be,” the doctor remarked. He looked to the others. “I told him to stop, that he couldn’t keep doing this.”

“Seems tonight he … wasn’t given the choice,” McPhee said, and glared at the Englishman.

“He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” the Englishman stated as the woman reached out and touched
Lorcan’s hand. “I’d like to see him fight again.”

Finn’s hackles went up, and he stiffened. “Ye heard the doctor, he’ll not be fighting any more.”

The Englishman chuckled. “I know fighters, boy. And this is a real fighter, a good one too. He’ll fight again if I want him to.”

Finn brought himself to within
inches of the man. “No, no it’s my fault he’s here, and I … I was wrong to bring him.  He’ll never fight again. Not unless he really wants to, and even then, I won’t let him.”

The Englishman looked F
inn up and down. “Commendable, but stupid. He’ll fight.” He then took the woman by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. “Until next time, gentlemen.” He turned on his heel, and with the woman in tow, sauntered away.

“No
, he won’t!” Finn called after him.

Doc Henderson touched Finn on the shoulder. “Don’t aggravate the man, he’s … he’s not one to be trifled with, son.”

Finn looked at him, then at Lorcan as he started to moan. “I’ll make sure he never fights again, I swear.” When he looked at the doctor again he had tears in his eyes. “I almost got my best friend killed tonight.”

Doc Henderson continued to clean Lorcan up. “Lucky for you, he’s still quite alive. Though you might not be after he’s done with you.”

Finn swallowed hard. “Aye, but at least I’ll know I deserved it after what I did to him. Lorcan, he didn’t deserve any of this.”

“Then I suggest you see him married and settled down, before it’s too late,” the doctor suggested.

Finn wiped away a tear. “Aye, it’s the least I can do.”

Six

Adaline came to work the next day, her heart heavy. Mr. Walker had talked and talked at dinner last night, and though he was entertaining and witty, he didn’t put the same skip in her step as Lorcan had the day before.  It was obvious Mr. Walker was trying to
impress her, and would ask her if they could court.  But what should she tell him?  Eventually she’d have to find a husband. It wasn’t that she didn’t like how things were going, she could continue to live at the boarding house and work for Mrs. Brody, but for how long?  Even if she knew her job with the Brodys’ was secure, how long before she got lonely, and wanted to marry and start a family?  She didn’t want to be by herself forever. She sighed with the thought and entered the bookshop.

“You’re not welcome here again, Finn
Mullany!” Mrs. Brody screeched as Adaline stepped through the door.  A book, followed by another, and another, flew through the air straight for Finn’s head.

He ducked in time to avoid the first and second, but not the third. “OW!”

Mrs. Brody charged across the store, a measuring stick in her hand, where it had come from Adaline didn’t know. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at the scene. “And another thing!” Mrs. Brody scolded, her brogue thicker than ever. “I’ll … I’ll …” she dropped the measuring stick, threw her face into her hands and wept.

Adaline looked at Finn, who stood biting his lower lip, his eyes closed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he patted Mrs. Brody on the back. “So sorry …”

She brought her face out of her hands. “You ought to be! Now get out of here!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his head low,
and skulked to the door. He looked at Adaline, his eyes red, hair slightly disheveled. If she didn’t know any better she’d say he’d been up all night. Maybe he had.  She looked back to Mrs. Brody who now stood staring into space.

“Mr.
Mullany?” Adaline asked.

Finn shook his head. “When ye see him, know that it was my fault.  I take full responsibility.”

Adaline’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Finn looked over his shoulder at Mrs. Brody. “She’ll tell you,” he said, and without another word, left the shop.

Adaline listened as the door shut behind him, then made her way to Mrs. Brody. “Ma’am? What happened? You’re upset …”

“Aye,” she whimpered. She looked at Adaline, and s
he watched in fascination as Mrs. Brody’s face went from sorrow to fire. “What mother wouldn’t be when her boy comes home looking like … like he’s been …” she took a deep breath. “It has to stop. It
will
stop!”

“Mrs. Brody, I don’t know what you’re talking about, other than … oh good Lord, something’s happened to Lorcan … I mean, Mr. Brody?”

“You can call him Lorcan. There’s no harm in it.”

Adaline glanced
about the shop. “Where is he?”

Mrs. Brody took a fortifying breath. “Upstairs with the doctor.”

“The
doctor
?” Adaline asked, eyes wide.  The image of Lorcan flying out of a shop window hit her like a brick and she knew,
knew
what had Mrs. Brody so upset. “Oh no…”

Mrs. Brody
looked at her, and gave her a curt nod. “He’ll not be working for a few days, I’m afraid you’ll have to carry the load until then.”

Adaline felt the first hot sting of tears, sucked in a breath to hold them at bay, and nodded in return. “I’ll take care of everything.” She let go her breath. “Is he … hurt badly?”

“He’ll be hurting a lot worse than he is now when I’m done with him!”

Adaline sighed in relief. “Thank the Lord,” she whispered.

Mrs. Brody looked at her. “Now don’t you worry none, dearie. The boy has suffered worse, he’ll live. Ye know, one of the main reasons we sent for you was so he’d settle down and stop this nonsense. Maybe now he’ll listen to us, and we might yet have ourselves a wedding.” She smiled and winked at her. “Now what say we get to work?”
Adaline’s eyes darted to the stairs in the back, then traveled to the ceiling. She swallowed hard and nodded, her stomach knotted with worry. For some reason she sensed Lorcan was more badly injured than his mother let on.  Finn Mullany’s words came back to her. “
When you see him, know that this is my fault. I take full responsibility.”

A chill went up her spine. “Can I see him?” she blurted.

Mrs. Brody was behind the counter by now. “What was that?”

Adaline wen
t to her. “Lorcan, can I see him?”

Mrs. Brody’s eyes widened. “What would you be wanting to see him for, dearie?” she asked.

“I … I don’t know.” Indeed, she didn’t know, but needed to see him all the same.

Mrs. Brody smiled. “The doctor is with him now, but when
he leaves, I’ll take you up.” A tiny smile curved her lips, before it blossomed. “I so hoped … well, never mind. Let’s see what work we can get done before the doctor comes down.”

Adaline nodded her thanks, and together, they readied the shop for the day. No sooner had they finished the morning’s preparations, the doctor came down.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the doctor said when he saw Mrs. Brody. “That boy of yours is tough as nails.”

“He’s a hard-headed mule and needs a good beating!”

“I’d say he’s already had one,” the doctor told her gently.

Mrs. Brody’s lower lip trembled. “I’m going to kill him all the same,” she croaked.

Adaline turned her face away, as the first of her unshed tears fell.  Why was it affecting her this way? She hardly knew the man when it came
down to it. But she liked Mrs. and Mr. Brody, and had come to care for them a lot over the last few days.

“Come along, dearie, so ye
can speak to the soon departed,” Mrs. Brody said as she took one of her hands.  The doctor laughed at her remark and headed for the door. Mrs. Brody ignored it, and stayed her course for the stairs.

Mr. Brody was coming down when they reached th
em. “Go easy on him, Mrs. Brody,” he said as he took out his pipe. “He’s weak and bruised, no matter what the doctor says. I’d say his pride hurts him most of all.”

“Understood Mr. Brody. Besides, I’m not going up there to berate the boy, Miss Dermont wants a word with him.”

Mr. Brody puckered his brow. “Does she now?”

“Aye, and I’ll see she giv
es it. Now out of the way if ye don’t mind, Mr. Brody.”

He stepped aside, put his pipe in his mouth, and win
ked at Adaline as she passed. They reached the top of the stairs. Adaline had never seen the Brodys’ living quarters before, and noted the framed Irish proverb hanging on the wall by the door.  She didn’t have time to read it before Mrs. Brody pulled her inside. They entered a good-sized parlor/dining room and Adeline noted the kitchen down a short hall in the back. She looked around and saw two other doors off the hall, and assumed them to be bedrooms.

Sure enough,
it was to them Mrs. Brody led her. “Now wait here, dearie. I’ll just go in and see how he’s doing first.” She turned to the door, and softly knocked, then went inside.

Adaline stood, eyes wide, as she realized the impropriety of the situation. She was about to go into a man’s bedchamber after all, but Mrs. Brody would be right there, and it’s not as if Lorcan was in any shape to … well, act improper.

  Mrs. Brody poked her head out the door. “All right, dearie, come in.” She stepped aside to allow Adaline admittance, then placed herself in the doorway.

Adaline took one look at Lorcan and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she did. She took in the black and blue form and couldn’t help the tears that followed.
Even Mrs. Fitzsimmons looked worried, as she sat on the end of the bed at his feet, and stared at him. “Mr. Brody,” Adaline managed.

His head turned
in her direction.  Both eyes were swollen shut, and she bit her fist to stifle her reaction. His nose was huge, and she wondered if it was broken. His hands had been wrapped in bandages, and another graced his head.  He was also bare-chested, his ribs wrapped as well. “Merciful Heavens,” she breathed.

He licked dry lips. “Miss Dermont,”
he said, his voice stronger than she expected. “You seem to have me … at a disadvantage.”

She wiped at her tears. “Mr. Brody, I … I don’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘oh bugger, what happened to you?’”

She smiled despite her concern over him. “If you say so.”

“Well? Let’s hear it then.”

She smiled again, her lower lip trembling.  He obviously looked much worse than he was. “Oh …
bugger.
What happened to you?”

“I tripped.”

Both hands flew to her mouth and she laughed, her tears falling free. “On what? An elephant?”

He grimaced. “Bigger.” He licked his lips again. Mrs. Brody went to a dresser and poured him a glass of water. “Here, dearie. Give this to him.”

“Me?” Adaline said aghast. “How can I?  Look at him.”

“I’ll help you,” Mrs. Brody said as she went to the bed.  She stepped around to the other side, sat, and motioned for Adaline to join her. She seated herself opposite Mrs. Brody and together, they each put a hand beneath his head.  Careful not to hurt him, they lifted him up enough so he could drink.  Adaline held the glass to his lips, and he drank greedily.

She fought against fresh tears as she watched him. So this is what happened when he fought. What would she do if she were married to such a man? How infuriated would she be to see him brought home like this? She glanced to Mrs. Brody as she took the glass from him. No wonder she’d been screaming such threats at Finn downstairs.

Adaline’s concern for his well-being was dissolving into anger, and something inside her snapped. True, she didn’t know him well, but cared enough about the family to understand their fear, and feel it. “Just look at you. That must have been some fight.”

Her tone held a scold, but she didn’t care.

“You sound like my mother.”

“Good.”

His mouth dropped open a little, and she wondered if that’s all he could manage. Mrs. Brody snorted and stood. “I’ll be right back. He’ll be needing more water and the pitcher is empty.”

Adaline nodded and watched her leave.  When she was gone, she studied their patient, and marveled at the sheer size of him.  She felt small next to his frame, and took her time looking at him. After all, he couldn’t look back and didn’t know what she was doing.

“Like what you see, Miss Dermont?”

Or could he? She stifled a gasp before it could escape, and turned her flushed face away. “I think I’d better sit elsewhere.”

He raised a bandaged hand. “No, stay here.”

“Mr. Brody …” she began to protest.

“Lorcan, call me Lorcan …”

She could hear the first signs of fatigue in his voice, and wondered how much effort it took him now to talk. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to call you by your given name.”

“You’re in bed with
me …” he pointed out.

  She blushed a furious red, and felt the heat of it travel throughout her body. “Precisely, Mr. Brody.”

He smiled and a small chuckle escaped him, followed by a grimace. “Please, don’t make me laugh.”

“Hmmm, perhaps I should think of some jokes …”

“No, don’t you dare … Adaline Dermont.”

She smiled at the sound of her name on his lips
. It made her belly warm. “Miss Dermont,” she said in a soft voice.

“Miss Dermont …” he repeated, his voice weaker now. “Adaline … thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me a drink …”

“It was only water, Mr. Brody.”

“It tasted like
Heaven …” he croaked.

The tears returned. “You should rest now, Mr. Bro …”

“Lorcan, call me … Lorcan.”

“Lorcan.”

He smiled, and then it was gone. Adaline glanced around, spied a quilt folded at the end of the bed, and waving Mrs. Fitzsimmons out of the way, pulled it over the thin blanket already covering him. He put his wrist and bandaged hand over hers before she let the quilt go. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Rest now
... Lorcan.”

He didn’t respond, and though his face was puffy, she could see his
relaxed jaw, and knew sleep was claiming him.  She sat then, and simply watched him. The rise and fall of his chest, the sheer broadness of it, the cut on his upper lip, the scrapes, the bruises, and she wondered. What drives a man to fight?  Was it for the thrill? The win? To know as a man you are the best there is?  Or something more? Perhaps she’d have a chance to ask Lorcan, if his mother hadn’t knocked him senseless by then. She smiled at the thought, and got up from the bed. “Oh,” she breathed. Mr. and Mrs. Brody both stood in the doorway, smiles on their faces. “I didn’t realize you were there,” she whispered as she glanced back at Lorcan’s sleeping form.