Michael had taken Clay aside after dinner. Knowing Maddie agreed with his plan to help rebuild the bakery, he couldn’t wait to put their proposal to the entrepreneur.
“How much will it cost to rebuild the bakery?” Michael asked him.
Clay rubbed his chin. “A little less than it cost to build it in the first place, assuming we can salvage the bricks for that oven. But I wonder whether Maddie will agree to rebuild. She doesn’t like going into debt, even when it’s a friend offering. I had to convince her to take as much as she needed the first time.”
That sounded like Maddie. And here Michael had thought her too interested in money. How wrong he’d been.
“She and I have a plan,” Michael said. “I want the debt under my name, if you’re willing. I’ve found work at the smithy, and I can see about taking a second job in the evenings if needed. She has a dream, and I won’t see her lose it because of all this.”
Clay nodded. “I have every faith her bakery will succeed. I’ll make you a partner investor. Consider the money yours.” He stuck out his hand, and Michael shook it. He’d just put himself under a burden, yet he felt lighter than he had in months.
A movement caught his eye. Ciara was waving her hand as she stood before Maddie and Allegra. Her voice pierced the air.
“It’s my fault the bakery burned down. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but I could have stopped him. Can you ever forgive me?”
Michael was moving toward her even as Maddie blanched. Aiden and Gillian, who had been taking turns dangling a ribbon for Amelia Batterby, looked up from near the hearth as well.
“What are you talking about?” Maddie demanded.
Ciara was worrying her hands in front of her blue dress. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t think you’d understand.” She flashed a glance at Michael as he came to a stop beside her. “We wouldn’t have had to sneak around if you had any idea about romance.”
Michael frowned at her. “Who are you talking about? If some boy at school wanted to play with fire...”
“Not a boy,” Maddie said, voice tight. “Oh, Ciara, what have you done?”
The girl’s usual defiance flared, and her head came up. “He said I was the only one who believed in him since we left New York. He said he was going to make the Irish great in Seattle.”
A sick feeling crept over Michael. “You’re not talking about Patrick Flannery.”
Ciara threw up her hands. “Of course I’m talking about Patrick! He’ll marry me one day, I know he will. When I’m old enough. He understands how I feel.”
“If he’s laid one hand on you,” Maddie started.
“It’s not like that!” Ciara protested. “He won’t even kiss my fingers, that’s how highly he holds me in his esteem. And don’t you tell me otherwise. I just wish I’d known why he wanted in the bakery yesterday. He said he had a surprise for us. All I had to do was make sure everyone went to dinner and leave the door open for him. I thought you’d follow me.” She stomped her foot. “You were supposed to follow me! Now everything’s ruined!”
“Nothing’s ruined,” Maddie said, rising. “We will rebuild the bakery. What I don’t understand is why Patrick Flannery would want to harm it.”
“Neither do I,” Michael said, his voice coming out as grim as hers. “But I intend to find out.”
His frustrations must have been written on his face, for Ciara grabbed his arm. “Don’t hurt him!”
Allegra rose as well. “Surely Mr. Flannery didn’t intend to burn down the bakery. It must have been an accident.”
“Don’t be defending him,” Maddie scolded her. “He used a schoolgirl’s infatuation to further his own cause. He’ll get no sympathy from me.” She looked to Michael in challenge.
“Or from me,” he assured her. “But I won’t believe it of him until I hear it from his own lips.”
Clay started for the door. “I’ll find him and bring him to the house.”
Michael followed. “I’m coming with you.”
Ciara ran after them. “No, you mustn’t! Leave him alone!”
“Ciara.” Maddie’s call stopped them all in their tracks. She swept across the room and stopped beside her sister. Michael had never seen her so sure of herself.
“You did not cause the fire, Ciara,” she said, voice kind yet firm. “But whether you like it or not, you are an eleven-year-old girl and under my guardianship. Michael and I will deal with Patrick Flannery. I need you to sit with your brother and help Mrs. Howard. And there will be no more outbursts, or I will know that you aren’t ready to learn from Nora.”
Michael wasn’t sure what Maddie meant by that, and he thought the girl might fight, but Ciara nodded as if she believed her sister. She went to sit near Aiden and Gillian, who were watching wide-eyed. Gillian handed her the ribbon as if in consolation.
Maddie turned her gaze on Michael next, and he stood taller, ready to face her temper. If Patrick was the cause of their troubles, he’d been the one to bring the man to her door. She had every reason to order him out of her sight.
She reached up for his face and pulled him down, lips brushing his, filling him with hope.
“You daft man,” she said as she released him. “I love you. If you want to find Patrick Flannery and have it out, I’m coming with you.”
Still reeling from her kiss, he couldn’t muster an argument to stop her.
“I’ll watch the children,” Allegra said. “Go.”
They went.
An owl called from the forest behind them as they made their way down the hill by the light of Clay’s lantern. Maddie marched along, hands fisted in her skirts. Michael thought her grip had as much to do with her emotions as with the need to keep her borrowed finery out of the mud. Her determination was like a hearth beside him, keeping him warm.
But warmer still was the memory of her words. She loved him. She was willing to stand beside him. He felt as if they’d turned a corner and found a whole new world waiting for them. They were going to be all right.
He wasn’t sure where to start looking for Patrick, but as they reached Main Street, a light near the pier caught his eye. Shadowy figures clustered around the last building on the row.
The smithy.
Michael put a hand to Maddie’s shoulder. “Go to the sheriff’s office. Find McCormick. Tell him there’s trouble.”
She must have seen the crowd as well, for she patted Michael’s hand before taking the lantern from Clay and running down the boardwalk, shoes clattering on the wood, skirts flaring behind her.
Clay drew a pistol from inside his coat. “Let’s join this party.”
Together, they approached the smithy. Michael could see more torches inside, the light glowing off the faces of the surrounding men. He recognized Hennessy immediately, along with Clay’s partners Aherne and Disney. Voices murmured in concern. But one voice rose above the others.
“Now do you see what we face?” Patrick was demanding. “It’s one thing when they come for us, but when they harass a sweet, innocent woman like Maddie O’Rourke, we cannot stand by.”
Agreement was immediate and enthusiastic. Michael entered the group, and men made way for him. He saw Clay slipping into the back.
“What crime had she committed?” Patrick asked, face impassioned in the flickering light as his gaze speared the group. “What wrong had she done that she deserved to have her livelihood burned to the ground, every last thing she owned destroyed?”
“Nothing!” someone yelled, and the others roared agreement.
Patrick pointed at them. “Nothing but being born in Ireland!”
Michael pushed his way closer, meeting nods of recognition and smiles of approval that he’d joined them.
“Organizing to protect our homes isn’t enough,” Patrick continued. “We need to know our families are safe. If there’s punishment needed, we need to be the ones bringing it!”
“Aye!” they chorused.
“For Maddie O’Rourke!” Patrick cried, raising his fist over his head.
Around Michael, voices took up the chant, until the words set the rafters above them to trembling. Light shone in every eye. This wasn’t the type of fire he could fight. How would he convince these men that the very fellow stirring them up had been the one to cause the trouble to begin with?
As the sound died down, a clear female voice spoke from the doorway.
“You’ll pardon me for saying so,” Maddie said, stepping out of the shadows, “but I’m not liking the way you’re using me name.”
Every voice quieted as she made her way to the front. Her red hair burned as bright as the torches, but brighter still was the look in her eyes. She came to Michael’s side and held his hand. The squeeze told him that Deputy McCormick was somewhere in the crowd. Michael knew the lawman must be fully ready to arrest the lot of them. It was up to Michael and Maddie to see that the right person was brought to justice.
“Happy I am to see you, Miss O’Rourke,” Patrick said fervently. “I only wish we’d been able to save your bakery.”
Murmurs ran through the crowd, regretful, angry at the injustice.
“Do you, now?” Maddie asked. She turned to address the other men. “I’ve thanked many of you for helping today, and I thank you again. Sure-n but I might have lost my life without your help. Who would be so brazen as to put the torch to my bakery, in broad daylight, while my brother and I were still inside?”
Patrick took a step forward, blanching. “You were inside? But you were supposed to be at dinner with Michael.”
So at least he hadn’t meant to harm anyone. Yet even as the thought entered Michael’s mind, he realized the rest of Ciara’s story must be true. Anger licked up him faster than flames.
“And why would that matter to you?” he demanded of Patrick. “Unless you had to be certain no one was inside when you started the fire.”
* * *
So it was true. Maddie could barely stand to look at Patrick’s handsome face, knowing how he’d betrayed both Michael and her sister. The others took the news nearly as hard. Gasps echoed around them, and voices turned dark as gazes fixed on Patrick once more.
“Careful, Haggerty,” Hennessy said. “You’re accusing one of our own.”
“There was plenty of trouble directed against the Irish before Miss O’Rourke’s bakery was burned,” someone else reasoned.
“And none of it before Mr. Flannery came to town,” Maddie insisted. She could not let the man get away with this. He had to be stopped before someone else was hurt.
“I have it from my own sister’s lips,” she told them all. “Patrick Flannery cozened a little girl to gain access to my shop for the purpose of setting it on fire.”
Again voices rose, some questioning, others scoffing.
Michael’s voice thundered beside her. “Listen to her! Patrick Flannery is not the man he claims.” He glanced at Patrick. “He’s not the man I thought him.”
She was sure Patrick would demur, claim innocence. Instead, his head came up, and his eyes narrowed.
“I’ll not apologize,” he said, anger darkening his voice as well as his look. “I was ever after the raising of the Irish.” He glanced out at the men, who quieted again in the face of his rage. “I saw what gangs like the Dead Rabbits did in New York. Their ways were hard, but they got results. That’s what we need here, a group of men who aren’t afraid to protect their own.”
“We didn’t need protection until you came along,” Maddie told him.
“Didn’t you?” His face twisted with a sneer. “You think you’re safe here? You think they won’t come for you? You’re wrong. You were sheep waiting for the butcher. I showed you the dangers! I showed you the future!”
Michael was pale. “We knew oppression in New York, Pat. How could you have brought it here?”
Patrick laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. “It was already here, me boy. I merely helped it along. Don’t you see? They needed a leader. It could have been us. We could have been important for once.”
“Sure-n but he’s already important,” Maddie scolded him. “A finer man I’ve never had cause to meet.”
Hennessy shoved men out of his way until he was standing directly in front of Patrick, his head down like a bull. “I’m not the smartest fellow, so let me understand this. All the thefts, the broken windows, the marks on people’s homes and shops, those fancy pants Miss O’Rourke found in my laundry sack, the fire that ruined her bakery—that was you?”
Patrick met his look, defiant. “Aye. I thought the pants would be enough to wake up Michael to the need, but it seems I had to do more to get your attention so you’d understand the reason we had to organize. It was for your own good, Hennessy.”
Hennessy drew himself up, towering over the others. “This isn’t Ireland, Mr. Flannery. The British crown doesn’t tell me what’s to my own good. I do.” His meaty hand reached out to grab Patrick.
The smithy erupted. Men shouted, fists flew. Maddie was jostled one way and another. The hem of Allegra’s gown, so hastily pinned, caught on her feet, and she felt herself tumbling. Michael’s hand seized her, and he sheltered her against him as anger rose on all sides.
Near the far wall, a shot rang out. Maddie flinched. Glancing back, she saw Deputy McCormick lowering his gun as all eyes turned to him.
“That’s enough of that, now,” he drawled. “I’ll be taking Mr. Flannery into custody for theft, vandalism and arson. If you have knowledge of his deeds, I want to hear from you. The rest of you, go home.”
The men shuffled off. Several stopped to apologize to Maddie, promising they hadn’t known of Patrick’s plan. Others waited for Deputy McCormick, and she could only hope they were confessing what they knew. Beaten, Patrick stood beside the deputy, head bowed as if accepting his fate.
Maddie turned away from him, wrapped her arms around Michael and held him tight, thanksgiving welling up inside her. “It’s over,” she murmured. “We’re safe.”
Michael rested his head against hers. “It’s over. And it’s just beginning. You have a business to rebuild and a wedding waiting for your cakes.”
She shook her head, feeling his chin firm against her hair. “There’s no time. James and Rina are to be married in four days.”
“Then you have a lot of work to do,” Michael insisted.
His determination was infectious. Could she really do it? She had no bakery, no equipment and no supplies, and she was already behind schedule with the loss of today’s rolls.
They’d just stopped a madman from setting the entire city ablaze with his anger. What were a dozen cakes and a few hundred rolls? Together, she and Michael could do anything.
Maddie leaned back to eye him. “How much time do you have between now and the wedding?”
“Seeing as I must have earned my employer’s everlasting gratitude for breaking up a riot in his business, probably quite a few hours,” Michael assured her. “What do you need?”
“Help,” Maddie said with a smile. “And I know just where to get it.”