Alaina's Promise Part 9

"Will you stay for supper, lad?" Maggie asked her son.

"Nay, but I did want to see how your patient is doing?"

"Better but weak."

"Would you like me to fetch the doctor from Galway?"

"That's up to you, la.s.s," Maggie said. "Would you like the doctor to take a look at your da?"

Alaina wanted to say yes. Anything would be better than helplessly watching her daddy slip away. But she was so tired of raising hopes only to have them shattered again and again. If her father's doctor couldn't do anything, what would be the point? What could any other physician possibly know that James Sloan or the mult.i.tude of specialists in Virginia did not?

"He's an educated man," Torin added, eyes narrowed. "Maybe not with a fancy office and leather case, but he does know how to care for the human body. He's not a veterinarian in disguise, if that be your worry."

"I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to," he interrupted. "The truth is plainly written on your face."

"I find that highly unfair," she insisted. Where had this anger come from so suddenly? "I merely wonder what good any doctor can do that his own could not? Hearts are the same all over the world or is there something unique about that particular organ here in Ireland?"

"Perhaps hearts here are a bit bigger and stronger than those that would allow one man to own another."

His words. .h.i.t her like a slap in the face.

"Torin!" Maggie exclaimed.

Alaina blinked up at him as the tears stung behind her eyes. She should have known this would come up sooner or later. She should have expected it and been prepared. But it still hurt. It was an accusation she'd heard many times expressed in more deplorable terms.

But coming from this man, it somehow hurt all the more. There was no defense, only excuses, and in the last five years, she'd used them all up.

Alaina turned from him toward Maggie, unable to meet her gaze. "If you feel the doctor should be called, then please do so. I'll take any chance there may be to get daddy well."

"Of course," Maggie answered softly. "Torin, I believe you owe our guest an apology."

Alaina held up a hand. "No! Please, there's no need to apologize for the truth. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'd like to see my father."

Head held high, she walked the short distance to the house, all the while hoping he wouldn't say another word let alone offer a false apology. Alaina wasn't sure how long she could hold back the tears if he spoke again.

"What's gotten into you?" Maggie insisted as the door closed behind Alaina. Torin shook away the niggling guilt and looked down at her.

"Don't be giving me that defiant glare, Torin Patrick O'Brien!" she scolded. "One minute you're looking out for the la.s.s like a knight in s.h.i.+ning armor and the next you be casting stones at gla.s.s houses."

"I said naught but the truth, Mum."

"And I don't give a wit about such truth," she countered. "No child of mine will ever abuse another as long as I'm still about. You'd best mind your manners and consider that apology, lad. I've a mind to box your ears for hurting the la.s.s so."

"Mum-"

"You've shamed this family before, but never by being deliberately cruel. I've never held the past over you, Torin, so don't be doing the like to that sweet girl."

Nay, it hadn't been fair. The desire and guilt had torn at him, until the need to push her away sparked anger at her smallest word. She was getting much too close to his heart-he'd quickly begun to lose any real reasons he might have to keep her at arm's length. Alaina had become the first thing he thought of when he woke in the morning, the last face he saw before his mind's eye at night. Hers was the form in his dreams, the warm hand in his, the soft skin he touched.

He could not forget the scent of her, the sound of her voice, the sweet protectiveness she exhibited as she defended him in front of his mother. Alaina was his heart's desire, and so he must push her away at all cost. He could not bear to ruin her life as he had ruined Brigit's.

But the hurt he'd seen in her eyes...

"I will apologize, Mum," he said with a sigh. "You're right, as always."

"Of course I am." She turned her back and headed toward the cottage. "Now take the basket and come inside for supper. I believe groveling is best done on a full stomach."

They ate in relative silence at the kitchen table that evening. Torin couldn't keep from glancing at Alaina across the table, her eyes lowered as she delicately ate the roasted mutton and colcannon. The slip and slide of utensils over the tin plates set his nerves on edge, as did everything about the woman. He couldn't keep his mind off her. Didn't know how to banish her sultry image from his dreams.

"I believe Patrick would enjoy a visit before you head home again," his mother said as she rose to fill the pitcher with water from the pump.

"I'll do that," he replied, his gaze still fastened on the lovely face across the table.

"I spoke with Mary Kate early this morning," Maggie continued as she took her seat, oblivious to the tension in the room. "She tells me you've a plan to help Tom with his fences?"

"Aye, we agreed on it some weeks ago. Sean will be helping, as well."

It would be a grand way of getting himself out of temptation's path. A few days of hard, physical labor should banish any erotic fantasies from his mind-or at least tire him so he could never make them a reality.

"Good. She and I decided 'twould be grand time to hold the ceili for Patrick."

Torin's fork clattered against his plate.

"Ceili?" Alaina asked as she continued to cut her meat. "Isn't that like a party?"

"Exactly," Mum replied. "Only this time, we'll leave on Friday and not come back 'til Sunday evening or Monday morning, depending on how we're feeling."

Alaina's head jerked up, her mouth and eyes wide in surprise as her knife fell from her hand, bounced once on the table then dropped to the floor.

"Three days?" She glanced at him furtively and swallowed. "All of us?"

"Aye, if your da is able," Mum answered.

Alaina studied Torin for the first time since his insults in the yard. It was all he could do to take his next breath as he gazed into those fathomless brown eyes.

"I don't think we-"

"It can wait a week or two," he rushed in, heedless of what his mother might think. For some reason he couldn't let Alaina back out now. Torin needed her to say yes. It would be easier to look after her and still keep her at arm's length in the company of her cousins.

"Very well," she said and dabbed at her mouth with the edge of her napkin. "But I won't hold you back from your duties. If Daddy isn't well enough in a week's time, then you must go about your business."

"The business isn't pressing," he replied. "Tom's fences need mending, but he has plenty of fields for the lambs to graze. He can wait two weeks...maybe longer."

"Two weeks, it is," she agreed as she began to pick at her food again. "But if he isn't well, you and Maggie must go on without us."

"The whole reason for the ceili is to welcome you and Patrick," Maggie said. "There would be little use of having it if you didn't attend."

"Nonsense," Alaina replied. "There's always a reason for a good party."

"Here then, if Patrick is well enough two weeks hence, we'll have the ceili," Maggie decided. "If not...then they'll have to wait. But I'm thinking he'll be up and about very soon. All he needs is a bit of a push."

"I'll see what I can do," Alaina said as she stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'll have a word with him now."

"Have you finished eating, dear?" Maggie asked. "There's plenty left."

"Thank you, Maggie, everything is delicious as always." Her gaze flickered to Torin and back again. "I'm just not very hungry this evening. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, la.s.s. You go on and I'll fix up a plate for Patrick."

Maggie shot Torin a look that would melt steel as Alaina left the kitchen. "Excuse me," he said and he rose to follow her into the hall.

"Alaina..."

She stopped at the bottom step, her shoulders stiff. "Yes?"

He walked to her, his heart like lead in his chest. Would she ever forgive him his cruel words?

"I need to tell you..." She turned then and the look on her pretty face made his breath catch. "The words I spoke earlier were mindless, panicked utterings. I beg you to forgive me. I swear to you I meant not a word of it-I have the greatest respect for you and your father. Indeed, for anyone that stands up for what they believe in."

She frowned slightly. "Your apology is accepted. But I don't quite understand. Why were you feeling panicked? About what?"

He stepped closer until he could feel the warmth radiate from her body in the damp hallway. He breathed in the scent of her soft skin and she looked up at him, eyes wide and dark.

"I fear you, as well-the way you make me feel, the things I long for when you're near."

"And what...?" She hesitated, her voice somewhat breathless. "What things would those be?"

He chuckled softly, somewhat amazed at her almost innocent, coy flirtation. Then he stepped even closer and bent near her ear. "I think of teaching you many things, la.s.s. Many wonderous, pa.s.sionate things."

His bold statement brought a gasp from her lips and she met his gaze for a moment-the myriad of emotions there made her eyes as dark as pitch.

"Go on," he said. "Quit playing with fire and see to your da."

She blinked and drew herself up. "I-I didn't mean-"

"Aye, that you did, la.s.s. And 'tis good to know you're more a woman than I thought."

"More...? What did you think I was?"

"A child...a spoiled, self-centered babe."

"How dare-!"

He put a finger over her lips to silence the indignant protest. "I was misguided in my thinking," he admitted. "But I'm knowing better now." The feel of her soft lips beneath his finger set a hum through his blood. "I now know you to be a loving, compa.s.sionate woman. A woman any man would be proud to call his own."

The air hung heavy between them. Her sweet breath warmed his skin. When he pulled away from her, a tingle swept down his spine and she swayed toward him.

He took a slow step back. "You forgive me then?"

She blinked as if returning from a daze. "Yes, of course. I already said I did." The soft smile she gave him made his heart skip a beat. "Thank you, Torin." Then she turned and ascended the steps, disappearing into the dark hallway above.

He left the house and walked straight back to his cottage. The image of Alaina's face, the echo of her sweet voice accompanied him each step of the way. It would be a good night for dreams, he decided.

Chapter Seven.

She pulled the silver-plated brush through her hair as she sat at the dressing table and stared at her own reflection.

"There's nothing for me here."

Her hand stopped in mid-stroke. Alaina could never marry even if Torin O'Brien changed his mind. The way he looked at her now-the fire that burnt deep within his gray-green eyes made her s.h.i.+ver from head to foot. But the thought of a man's hands upon her body made her tremble. Guilt and fearful memories such an idea evoked would never allow for intimacy. Besides, what if she was to marry? What if that union turned out to be a mistake in other ways?

The distant relations.h.i.+p between her father and mother had been both subtly and openly hostile and a source of pain for everyone at Aveleen. It had set the Ryan children on edge, made them fearful. They had never known when another argument would erupt. They had never known what innocent remark or question might stir the simmering anger that always dwelt just below the surface of their parents' marriage.

Her mind spun with the doubts, fears and endless questions to which there seemed no answers. Always it ended in the same realization-she would forever be alone. She slammed the brush down on the table and stood, her pulse thundering in her ears.

It was well past midnight and Maggie had long ago gone to bed. Her father rested comfortably in his room across the hall. The cozy chamber Alaina had come to think of as her own now felt stifling and hot. Whatever time of night, she could not bear to sit in it for another minute. There was no way she could fall asleep while in such turmoil.

She walked to the wardrobe and flung open the finely planed doors to reveal her dresses and grasped the first one-a dark green that had faded with time and wear. Its long sleeves and scooped neckline once considered the height of fas.h.i.+on, the gown looked dull and old. But what did it matter? It had been years since such frivolities had crossed her mind.

The walls seemed to close in around her-suffocating, confining. She paused for a moment as she wondered at the common sense of her plan, but bore on and discarded her robe and nightgown. The soft cotton slipped over her bare skin and Alaina pulled her stomach in to fasten the b.u.t.tons up the front. She had lost weight since the dress had been made-baby fat melted away in the heat of war and the lack of abundance her family had once enjoyed. The gown fit without the help of a tightly laced corset. After sliding on stockings and soft, black kid boots, she crept out of the room, down the steps. s.n.a.t.c.hing her cloak from the peg in the hall, Alaina stepped into the cool, crisp night.

Not a cloud drifted in the cold black sky although it had rained for most of morning and afternoon. The air still felt damp, the gra.s.s squished beneath her boots. Alaina took care to step only on the stones that led from Maggie's door. An insistent, biting breeze tore at her cloak, pulling it away from her and creeping inside her thin dress. She s.h.i.+vered; the cold felt invigorating. It might help her think.

Alaina hesitated at the end of the walk, glancing up and down the road and wondering where she should go. To her left, the primitive path led to Fisher Street, the heart of Doolin. Several yards to her right, the road forked. One branch headed north, the other south. Torin had brought her down the road from the north when he'd met them at Ballyvaughn. The other branch went south, back behind the house, and skirted around the village as it curved in a wide arch to the west.

Alaina decided on trying the route she had not yet taken. Heading south, she soon found herself in the open countryside. The darkness did not worry her. The waxing moon shone down upon her and the surrounding landscape. In the moonlight, the Burren took on an eerie, silver color. The gray limestone slabs stretched ghostlike across the valley, the sight sending a s.h.i.+ver up Alaina's spine. The breeze grew fainter, yet stretched out its thin, icy fingers to caress her face beneath the hood of her dark cloak.

After several minutes, she turned toward Maggie's house. It was no longer within sight. She had walked much further than she realized. She hesitated, wondering if her impulse was foolish. Should she head back to Maggie's or continue onward, to risk becoming lost?

Thinking again of her room and the suffocating loneliness she had been feeling, Alaina threw caution to the wind and continued her trek. At first she took careful steps to avoid catching her heels in the deep cracks of the pavement.

The stillness and absolute peace soon calmed her troubled nerves and quelled any doubts. After a time, Alaina walked leisurely across the Burren, little noticing her surroundings. Her mind filled instead with memories of the past months. So many things had changed her life and her very purpose in it.

She thought of James Sloan-his gentle gray eyes and warm sense of humor. Alaina sighed as she tugged the cloak closer. Why couldn't she now feel anything more than a sisterly affection for the man? It would make life so much easier to return to the safety of Aveleen and accept his proposal, though she knew he had offered it only to spare her from spending a life alone once her father died.

James understood her fear, knew her secret. Perhaps, in time, he could help her overcome the past. Perhaps they could find a way to live as husband and wife-at least they had years of friends.h.i.+p to rely upon. She had once cared for the man with a young girl's infatuation. Wouldn't that be enough?