Questions of Honour. Kate Welsh

did you say?” he asked in a voice so choked it sounded more like a gasp.

      “I said, boyo, that Sullivan gave yer boy a name, since you didn’t care to. Nice that he did something decent before he passed on. Abby kept your promise by namin’ the boy for my Daniel.”

      “Abby’s son is … my son?”

      “I think you’d better be sittin’ down, boyo. You look a bit pasty.”

      Joshua sat on the edge of the boardwalk, his thoughts whirling. No one but Abby knew how he’d begged her to join him. No one knew about the money he’d scraped together and sent her for travel, clothes and food. Abby had taken his offering, but she hadn’t joined him. She hadn’t even written. By the time he’d sent the money, she must have known she was with child, yet she hadn’t joined him. She’d married another man. Given his son Sullivan’s name!

      Forgetting Dolly’s presence in the face of his pain he muttered, “How could she do that to me? To our son?”

      “To you?” Dolly asked in a high, excited screech.

      “Did staying here with her family mean so much that she’d deprive me of my son and the boy of his birthright?”

      “You’ve got a perverse way of viewin’ the past. ‘Twas your father and you who did that!”

      “My father knows Daniel is my son?”

      “'Tisn’t Philadelphia, you know. He knew. Mike Kane even went to Wheaton, but he wouldn’t send for you, so Mike struck a deal with Sullivan.”

      Joshua stood. His knees shook as much as his voice. “Thank you for your honesty, Dolly. At least Abby named him Daniel. He has one of the names he should have. I need to think. Find someone to take the buggy on home for me, will you?”

      Brendan shouldered his way into the saloon, flexing his hand and hoping he hadn’t broken it. After buying a beer, he heard Sean Murphy call his name from the center of a group of miners. This is all I need.

      “What is it brought you into our midst? Wheaton’s return drivin’ you to drink already?”

      One of the men with Murphy said Brendan would need to lock Abby in the house to keep her away from her former lover.

      “I’ll not hear talk like that said about my sister,” Brendan growled and hoped the men would back down. His punching hand was damaged enough as it was.

      “And I’ll not be hearin’ it, either,” Murphy chimed in.

      Dooley snickered at Sean, but muttered an apology to Brendan, then slipped away, leaving Brendan and Sean at the bar.

      “I was thinkin’ I’d ask Abby to the social on Saturday. With Wheaton back it’d be a good thing if she went with me.”

      Brendan felt sorry for Sean. He’d been the butt of jokes for years and he could be particularly annoying when he bragged on imagined alliances with the AMU to make himself important.

      “Sean,” Brendan said and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “She’s never seen you in that light. Besides, Joshua Wheaton is engaged to be married, so there shouldn’t be anything for people to talk about. Thanks for defendin’ her just now, though. I promised to pick up something for Abby at the store so I best be on my way.”

      Sean smiled. “I’ll walk with you. Maybe I’ll get a glimpse of Abby as we pass your house.”

      Brendan sighed and silently cursed his rotten luck. He was uncomfortable with Sean’s undying affection for Abby. She’d bluntly refused his courtship and yet he remained devoted.

      “You get what you came for and I’ll just look about,” Murphy said at the store.

      Brendan waited at the counter for Ethan Prescott. Several minutes later Prescott pushed aside the curtain to his back room and stepped out. “What can I do for you, Murphy?” he said, staring right at Brendan.

      It had not been a good day. “How long is it going to take for you to tell us apart? I’m Brendan Kane, Prescott. My sister works for you. I know one sooted-up miner looks like another to you but …” Brendan stopped, noticing Prescott’s bored expression. “Oh, forget it. Ten pounds of flour.”

      “You want this on your account, don’t you?”

      Brendan nodded and signed for the flour in the account book. When Prescott returned with the sack of flour, Brendan slung it over his shoulder. He turned to leave and found Murphy staring at him with an odd look in his eyes.

      “Problem, Sean?”

      Murphy shrugged. “I forgot I’ve something to do.

      Tell Abby I said halloo.”

      Brendan watched him rush away, grateful for the reprieve, but disturbed … as well. The only thing he could think Sean would find more important than another attempt at courting Abby was going off to try ingratiating himself further to AMU members. Murphy was not only odd, he had dangerous leanings.

      Joshua walked in the hills for hours. He felt like a ship set adrift on becalmed seas. Lost. Hopeless. He thought of the years he and Abby had shared. First as friends then finally as lovers. He remembered the innocence of her sparkling eyes. He remembered her laughter when life should have held nothing to smile about. He remembered her guilty tears the night their son must have been conceived and the argument they’d had when she’d refused to leave town with him. Remembering. Hurting. He walked for hours scarcely noticing when the sun slipped behind the hills.

      He arrived home long after dark. Dinner was thankfully a memory. With guests in the house, he would have been obligated to be civil to Harlan during the meal. Josh couldn’t have done it.

      “Is Harlan in his room, Henry?” Josh snapped when Henry met him at the door. The butler stepped back, his eyes wide. “I apologize, Henry. I’m not at my best. I just found out I’ve been a father for nine years but no one has ever seen fit to tell me. I’ll show myself in. No need to risk him snarling at you, as well.”

      “Thank you, sir,” Henry said, then seemed to scurry for cover.

      Wise man, Joshua thought as he stalked toward Harlan’s lair. Since learning about Daniel, Josh hadn’t thought of Harlan as “Father” even once. And if he didn’t get a damned good explanation Josh probably never would. The old bear wouldn’t hide from him tonight! Without knocking, Josh slammed through the door.

      “Joshua! What in heaven’s name is wrong?” Harlan shouted.

      “Wrong? What could be wrong?” Josh asked, his tone biting. “This morning I realized half the people were treating me like a leper and the rest snickered when I passed. Then I went to take a look at the conditions in the mines. How does appalling sound?”

      “Well—” the old man noisily cleared his throat “—I haven’t had my hand in there for some time now. Crippled the way I—”

      “Don’t!” Josh roared.

      Harlan blinked. “Don’t what?”

      “Don’t try weaseling out using your condition. We’ll talk about the mines, and what I’ve decided to do with them at another time. Right now, I want to discuss why people acted the way they did toward me. Abaigeal Sullivan.”

      “What about her?”

      “Abby’s a widow. She has no husband. She does have a son, though. Mine!“ The word reverberated through the room.

      Harlan sat a bit straighter. “You believe that claptrap?”

      “Believe it? Why wouldn’t I believe it?”

      “Because she married another man as soon as I tossed the two of them, their demands and lies out of my house. Michael Kane went so far as to threaten me. He’s lucky I thought he was amusing.”

      “Threats? What would he have to threaten you with?”