She laughed and waved a hand. “On with you, now. Make sure that sweet baby is cared for.”

  With another wave to Ciara, she swept into the knot of men, which parted as if they knew the true queen of the kitchen had arrived.

  “Do you want to stay and visit your brother?” Kit asked, careful not to let his opinion show in his voice.

  “No, thank you,” Ciara said, facing front. “Aiden’s made his thoughts known, and I’m not ready to hear them again. What I do want to hear is what Hart thinks about those papers.”

  Kit grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He climbed back up and set the horses in motion.

  They located the deputy down by the docks. The latest steamer from San Francisco was in, and Hart appeared to be watching the newcomers as if suspecting more than one might be trouble.

  Kit brought the wagon to a stop, set the brake, and handed Ciara the reins. Then he hopped down and came to take the papers from her. “Deputy? A word?”

  The lawman turned to meet him as Kit came forward. “Problem, Mr. Weatherly?”

  “Possibly.” Kit went on to tell him about Elodie Virden’s visit and showed him the papers.

  Hart’s face tightened with each word as his gunmetal-gray eyes scanned down the page. “I meet every steamer. Don’t recall seeing an older woman come through recently, other than your sister’s mother-in-law.”

  “She’s a young woman, very pretty,” Kit said. “Very pleasant too. Grace liked her.”

  “Sounds like a whole lot of people would like her.” His eyes narrowed. “Can I hold onto these a while? I want to look them over more closely and send a telegram to the sheriff in San Francisco. He’s been good about looking into folks for me.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” Kit said. “If she is genuine, Grace may have a chance for a better home than I can give her.”

  Hart sent a glance toward Ciara. “Thought you were building a pretty good home.”

  “We have an understanding,” Kit said lamely.

  “Are you staying in town tonight?”

  “No, we’re heading back, as soon as the horses have a moment to rest.”

  “Then I’ll ride out in a few days and tell you what I hear.”

  Kit thanked him again, then returned to Ciara. “Sure you don’t want to see your brother? Lance and Percy could do with a rest before we start back.”

  She fidgeted with her skirts. “Let’s go see Beth.”

  They spent an hour with the youngest Wallin sibling. Beth and her husband lived in a fine house up the hill from the Occidental Hotel. Every piece of furniture was well made and covered in fabric that looked too nice for the frontier town. Then again, Beth McCormick frequently looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of the ladies’ magazine she favored, Godey’s Lady’s Book. Kit’s sister would have loved her.

  He left Ciara with her friend and ventured down for the mail. He was coming out of the post office with a sack when a dark-haired young man barred his way. He wore a striped cotton shirt and gray flannel trousers, and there was something familiar about the way his dark eyes smoldered. When he put his hands on his hips and widened his stance, Kit knew.

  “You’re Aiden O’Rourke,” he said.

  Ciara’s brother nodded slowly. “I am that. What’s this I hear about you marrying my sister?”

  Kit nearly groaned aloud. “Have you spoken with your other sister yet?”

  His hands fell. “No. She’s been too busy since returning from the Landing. But she said you and Ciara were in town. And you didn’t bring her to see me. That told me all I needed to know.” He put up his fists and set one foot in front of the other. “What have you done with my sister?”

  Kit lowered the sack of mail carefully. “Nothing, I promise you. She’s up at Beth McCormick’s right now.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he demanded.

  “I suppose you have no reason,” Kit allowed. “You don’t know me. But all you have to do is walk up the hill with me, and you’ll see the truth of what I’m saying.”

  Once again, he dropped his arms. “I might do that.”

  “You should do that,” Kit told him, feeling confident enough the boy wasn’t going to swing at him to bend and pick up the sack of mail. “I think your sister would like to see you, if you can be pleasant.”

  “Pleasant,” he spat out. “You don’t know her very well, do you?”

  But he fell into step beside Kit as he started back up Commercial.

  “I think I know your sister fairly well,” Kit said. “Enough to understand that family is important to her.”

  Aiden sent him a considering look. “Maybe, but Ciara and I don’t always get along.”

  “My sister and I rarely agreed on anything,” Kit said, leaning into the climb. “But she was generally glad to see me, at least so she could tell me how I should improve.”

  Aiden wrinkled his nose, reminding Kit of Ciara. “Oh, you had one of those sisters. Ciara’s not like that. She doesn’t fret over me or criticize my actions. Lately, she’s more likely to forget I exist.”

  “I doubt that’s true,” Kit told him, breath coming harder from the climb. “Your sister is a very loving person.”

  He snorted. “With you, apparently.”

  They reached the house, and Aiden paused, glancing at the sturdy clapboard as if he thought it might tumble down the hill into the Sound at any moment.

  “Come on,” Kit urged him. He stepped up onto the porch and rapped at the door.

  Ciara herself came to open it. She glanced from him to her brother standing in the street. Then she shoved past and launched herself at the lad.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ciara drew back at arm’s length and took a good look at her brother. Aiden’s dark hair had more than one cowlick in it. Like him, it was always swirling in multiple directions. But were those shoulders in the cotton shirt broader than she’d remembered? The look in his dark eyes wiser?

  “I’ve missed you,” she said.

  He shook his head even as he shrugged out of her grip. “You have better things to do with your time than visit with me. You made that perfectly clear.”

  Guilt bit, and some of her sister’s Irish brogue came out in her tone. “I wasn’t after ignoring you, brat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be starting a new restaurant?”

  He rubbed a hand behind his neck as if it had heated with his cheeks. “No, but I’m beginning to have an idea of how hard it is to run one, what with me helping Maddie in your place. You’ve been missed as well.”

  “I told you you can always ride out to Wallin Landing,” she reminded him.

  He shook his head again. “I wouldn’t have come here today if not for that man of yours. He talked me into it.” He leaned closer, with a sidelong glance at Kit, who was keeping a distance as if to give them a little privacy. “He’s remarkably reasonable. Not the sort I thought you’d end up marrying.”

  Ciara cuffed him on the shoulder. “Who did you think I would marry, then? Some fellow with sawdust for brains?”

  “Nah,” Aiden scoffed, straightening. “I thought you might be hanging after one of those poetic types the girls are always mooning over, like Vaughn Everard.”

  Ciara sighed. “Ah, but there is no one like Vaughn Everard, and he’s been dead for more than twenty years!”

  “There is that,” Aiden allowed.

  Beth came out on the porch then and waved a hand. “You needn’t stand there talking. Come on in, Aiden. I have lemonade and some of your sister’s gingerbread.”

  “Which sister?” Aiden asked, and Ciara cuffed him again.

  Laughing, they all adjourned to Beth’s parlor, where Aiden consumed far too many cups of lemonade and pieces of gingerbread while regaling Ciara and Kit about what had been happening in the city. Ciara kept glancing at Kit, who sat on one of Beth’s fine chairs as if as comfortable there as on a stump at Wallin Landing. He wasn’t as poetic as Vaughn Everard, or even Harry, but she was becoming more certain every day that he was the only one for her.

  She just had to find a way to tell him.

  ***

  It was getting late in the afternoon when Kit went to fetch the steeldusts from the paddock behind Beth and Hart’s house. Lance and Percy came readily to his call, as if they knew he would be taking them home, and he set about putting them in harness.

  “Good lads,” he said as he settled the tack over their glossy hides. “It’s not often you get to carry an Irish rose, I imagine.”

  As if cognizant of the honor, the team stepped lively as he guided them around the house for the front.

  Aiden had already gone, and Ciara was saying her goodbyes to Beth on the porch.

  “I hope the next time we see each other we can talk about weddings,” Beth said with a look to Kit.

  “Perhaps,” Ciara said. But she lifted her skirts and hurried down the steps to the waiting wagon, climbing up onto the bench before he could offer to come around and lift her up.

  Beth waved as Kit directed the horses out onto the street.

  “We have to find a better way of explaining our situation,” Ciara said as he drove them up the hill. “Sooner or later, they’re going to expect us to marry.”

  “Sooner rather than later, if I had to guess,” he said.

  And the prospect gleamed brighter than the sun on Lake Union.

  He nearly laughed aloud. He was falling in love with Ciara O’Rourke. He’d feared he had nothing to offer her, but he’d come to hunger for what she offered him—trust, respect, admiration. How could a man not love a lady who looked at him as if he’d hung the moon?

  But could this amazing woman have come to care for him as more than a friend? He cast her a glance. Her gaze was steadfastly on the line of trees swiftly approaching.

  All at once, the doubts were untenable. He navigated to the side of the road and drew the wagon to a stop.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning forward and tilting her head as if to study the horses. “Did one of them throw a shoe?”

  “No,” Kit said. “But I may have a better way to answer these questions about when we intend to wed. You told Mrs. Virden you preferred action. So do I.”

  He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.

  Like Fourth of July over Elliott Bay, like curling up in front of the fire with a favorite book. Her lips hinted of the gingerbread they’d just consumed, and her hair was scented with roses. He had to force himself to lean back. He was fairly certain his smile was more crooked than Jesse’s.

  She stared at him. “Why did you do that? There’s no one here to see us.”

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for days,” Kit confessed. “I’m falling in love with you, Ciara.”

  She pressed her fingers to her lips, lips he had just kissed, lips he could still feel against his own. “Oh, Kit. I feel the same way.”

  He gathered her close then, her slender body trembling against his. A wave of thanksgiving swept through him, higher than an ocean peak. If more words and kisses were exchanged, only the forest gave witness.

  At length, he drew back, but he kept one arm about her waist. “Nothing would make me happier than for this engagement to be real, Ciara, but I know I don’t deserve you.”

  Her back stiffened, and she pulled away from him.

  “Yes,” she said, chin coming up and eyes smoldering like her sister’s. “Yes, you do. But until you realize the truth of it, I’m not marrying you.”

  ***

  Oh, the maddening, wonderful, man! Ciara wanted to pull him close, run her fingers through that wild hair, and tell him again how much he’d come to mean to her. They were already partners in raising Grace, even in the running of the restaurant. She could see him beside her, friend, groom, husband, father of her children, if they were so blessed.

  But if he could not appreciate his own worth, how could they build a future together?

  “Ciara,” he started, as if intending to argue with her, but she arranged her skirts and faced front. With a sigh, he took up the reins and directed the horses out the forest road.

  The sun was dipping toward the horizon. Long shadows fanned across the road, dappling Lance’s and Percy’s coats. The rattle of tack hid the quieter sounds of the woods, but she caught sight of a hawk crossing overhead. She rummaged in her brain for some way to make him understand.

  “You saw me with Maddie,” she finally ventured. “I was afraid of what she’d say about the restaurant. And then I realized it didn’t matter. I’d built something fine and good, something that will grow even better with time and effort. What she thought of it was less important than what I thought of it.”

  He nodded, gaze out over the horses. “I’m glad you realized that. You are so talented, Ciara. You deserve to be recognized.”

  “So why,” she challenged, “are your sister’s expectations more important than your own?”

  He started, and Lance and Percy obligingly picked up their paces. He let them canter for a bit, then slowed them down. Ciara waited.

  “There’s a difference between our situations,” he said. “You know you have skills. You just had to step out from under Maddie’s shadow. I’m in agreement with my sister. I’ll never be the man she wanted.”

  “And why should you?” Ciara asked, frowning. “Why can’t you be the man you want?”

  “Because that man doesn’t have a home for a wife and daughter nor skills to support them.”

  Frustration simmered in the admission. Ciara cocked her head. “I’ve seen the work you did with the tables and chairs. I’ve heard Drew praise your efforts with an ax. You are perfectly capable of building and supporting a home for a wife and family. Perhaps you don’t have one merely because you haven’t needed one until now.”

  His shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. “Or maybe I’m the useless sack of bones my sister claimed all along.”

  If his sister had been here, Ciara would have been delighted to correct her impression. What sister was so cruel? Then again, hadn’t she said things to Aiden that had kept him from wanting to associate with her? Perhaps it was the way of brothers and sisters, always testing each other.

  But she knew she could count on Aiden in a pinch. And Kit’s sister Hannah had known she could count on him, or she would never have sent Grace to him.

  “Bosh,” Ciara said. “I know a useless sack of bones when I see one. Take Scout Rankin’s father. You never met him, I know. He passed five years ago now. He was a useless sack of bones. He never proved up his claim enough to keep it. He used it more as a den of iniquity than a home. He made Scout cook and clean and fetch fresh victims to cheat at his card games. And his son went on to become one of the wealthiest, most respected men in Seattle. Despite him.”

  He cast her a considering glance, straightening. “So, despite Hannah, I can still make something of myself.”

  “You already have,” Ciara insisted. “All you have to do is open your eyes and see it.”

  He was quiet most of the rest of the way to the Landing, as if she’d given him much to think about. He’d certainly given her plenty. He claimed to be falling in love with her, and she could believe it from the way he treated her, as if she were clever and beautiful and worthy of all praise. She’d told him she cared about him.

  They’d pretended to be engaged. Did these confessions mean they were?

  He reined in at the porch of the big cabin, then came around to help her down. As she stood in his embrace, he lifted a hand to her cheek. “I want to be a man you can be proud of, Ciara. You deserve no less.”

  She held his hand against her skin, allowed the warmth to seep into her. “You already are, Kit. Please, believe that.”

  His smile said he was trying.

  While he returned the wagon to the barn, took care of Lance and Percy, then went up to fetch Grace, Ciara started dinner for the three of them, Harry, and Jesse. She hadn’t wanted to leave the stove going with no one to watch it, so she had to build up the fire. While the oven warmed, she put together a quick hash from ham and potatoes, grated some carrots, and made up the batter for fritters. Harry and Jesse came in as she was setting the table.

  “Good news from town?” Harry asked, pausing at the foot of the table. Jesse stopped to hear the answer as well.

  “Deputy McCormick will look into the matter,” Ciara told them. “That’s all we can do for now.”

  Jesse sighed.

  Dinner was more challenging than usual. Sitting beside Kit at the long table, she had never been more aware of him. The moment he reached for the pitcher of lemonade and his arm brushed hers. When he turned to say something to Harry, and his leg bumped her skirts. And when he forked up a fritter and grinned, sugar sparkling on his lips, it was all she could do not to lean over and kiss it off. Oh, but she had it bad!

  Harry glanced out the window. “At least an hour of daylight left. Would you two be willing to help me with my cabin? I just about have the porch on.”

  Jesse nodded. Kit looked to the baby in the tall chair beside him. “I should tend to Grace.”

  “I’ll watch her,” Ciara offered. “Harry’s hoping to go courting soon. He’ll want a house ready for his bride.”

  Harry grinned at that, but some of the air seemed to have gone out of Kit’s lungs, and she chided herself for reminding him of what he had yet to achieve.

  The three men helped clear the table, then headed out. Ciara wheeled Grace’s chair into the kitchen and positioned it near the tub of dishes.

  “We can certainly fend for ourselves,” she told the baby, handing her a wooden spoon, which she happily waved, as if conducting a fine orchestra.

  By the time the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, Grace’s little head was bobbing. Ciara picked her up and rocked her in the chair. The words Harry had sung to her when she’d first come to Wallin Landing came to mind, only it was Kit’s voice she heard as she sang it to Grace.

  “The pale moon was rising above the green mountain.

  The sun was declining beneath the blue sea,

  when I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain