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?
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.”
* *
