Chapter 34 #3
Maggie blinked back a wave of dizziness as she kept standing with effort, and then, to her sweetest relief, Brendan’s arms were around her and he pulled her into a hug. Maggie collapsed against him.
“You did it,” he murmured against her hair. “You really did it.”
“I can’t believe I did,” Maggie admitted. She glanced down at Sheetka, who had hidden her face in her skirts. The man had limped away, the crowd already starting to disperse, looking for the next amusement. A shooting in Juneau wasn’t that exciting an occurrence.
Maggie pocketed the pistol and then let out a shuddery sigh as she put her hands up to her face. She felt sick with nerves, the aftershocks of what had happened crashing through her.
“You’re all right, Maggie,” Brendan told her, gently removing her hands from her face. “And so is Sheetka.”
“And you’re back!” She stared at him in wonder, blinking back sudden tears. “I can’t believe it…”
“I’m sorry I took so long. It was one delay after another, and then, would you believe, the steamer I was on crashed into a tree that had fallen into the bay!
We all had to scramble out onto the trunk and escape to safety.
The ship was a wreck, but they managed to salvage their freight, including everything I’d bought, thank goodness.
But it set my journey back by nearly a month. ”
“Oh, Brendan…” Maggie stared at him in dismay, grateful he’d survived the ordeal, but hating that he’d had it.
“I’m back now,” he told her. “And not a moment too soon. It seems like every prospector from the whole west coast has landed here.”
“So you would think.” Maggie managed a laugh, although she still felt shaky. “Why don’t you come over tonight?” she suggested. “For a slap-up meal, like my da used to say? To celebrate.”
His gaze was warm on hers, seeming full of promise and making her tingle. “I’d like nothing better,” he told her.
An hour later, Maggie was flying around the cabin, trying to make everything as nice as it possibly could be. There were drop biscuits with canned butter and bear stew with potatoes and carrots, as well as a bread and butter pudding for dessert, to be served with Juneau’s local fireweed honey.
She was wearing the dress she’d sewn from the forest-green silk the Browns had given her so long ago, and she’d dabbed lavender water behind her ears.
Was she being ridiculous, going to so much effort? Maybe Brendan hadn’t meant it the way that she’d thought—hoped—he had, with his eyes so warm and full of promise. Maybe he just wanted to see her again… as a friend. Always as a friend.
Well, Maggie thought wryly as she fixed her hair for a third time, there was only one way to find out.
Biscuit let out one warning bark before Brendan gave his familiar rat-a-tat-tat and Sheetka, anticipating his arrival, flew to the door first.
“Ah, my angel!” Brendan greeted the girl, swinging her up into his arms while she laughed, a clear, pure sound, and then setting her solidly down on her feet. “And look at this brute! Enormous, and he’s probably not even finished growing.”
Maggie laughed as Biscuit bounded up to him.
“He’s got paws like dinner plates,” Brendan marveled as he crouched down to fondle the dog’s ears.
“His name is Biscuit, and he’s been a good companion.”
“I’m glad.” Brendan straightened, and once again their gazes met and she saw so much warmth in his that her insides fluttered with hope, with anticipation.
She hadn’t been wrong. She was almost sure of it.
“It’s so good to be here,” he told her as he took off his hat and coat. “I can’t even tell you.”
“It’s good to have you back.” Maggie’s cheeks were warm as she stirred the stew on the stove. She felt shy in a way she hadn’t with this man in years. Shy and yet happy. “Your journey sounded very difficult,” she continued. “I can’t even imagine.”
“I suppose it was foolish to go in winter,” Brendan admitted. “But I wanted to be back for the spring, when the miners started coming.”
“And so they have.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and then they both laughed self-consciously, Brendan ducking his head while Maggie pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.
“I don’t know why I’m so tongue-tied,” she confessed, and he laughed softly.
“Me, neither.”
The moment spun out again, and then Brendan took a step toward her. Maggie lowered her hands from her cheeks, her heart feeling as if it was tumbling over at the intent look on his face.
“Maggie…” he began, and she caught her breath.
She felt as if she were teetering on the most wonderful precipice, poised on her tiptoes, arms outstretched, ready to fly.
“I wanted to—” Brendan began, only to fall silent as Biscuit began to growl, and then a few seconds later there was a loud hammering on the cabin door.
Maggie and Brendan exchanged startled, wary glances, and then Maggie reached for her pistol as Brendan went to the door.
“Who is it?” he asked gruffly, without undoing the latch.
“I’m looking for Margaret O’Halloran,” a voice said from behind the door. “I have news about her father and brother.”