Chapter Forty-One

“You don’t suppose they’re really dangerous, do you?” Ginny Landry breathed the words into Brendan Fagan’s ear. The interminable day which had begun with a blood-red sky had ended far more gently with soft dark and a thousand stars. The city—once more proving itself undefeatable—settled into an exhausted peace just as Ginny settled into Brendan’s arms.

“The automatons?” Brendan shifted Ginny’s body against his in the big bed, his good arm wrapped around her. He hurt from head to toe, with some other interesting sensations in between. “Fine time to think of that, my girl, when we’ve just more or less handed them their independence.”

She shifted again so she could peer into his face. “But you don’t, do you?”

“No more than humans. Though I do think there’ll have to be a whole new set of rules—laws—dealing with accountability. I’m thinking it will call for a cool head in an elevated position. Someone like Pat Kelly.”

“When he once more has a whole head.”

“True, that.”

Ginny went suddenly still. “Did you see the look in Rose’s eyes?”

“I did. Makes everything worth it—breaking that madman out of the asylum and all the other hurdles.”

“Yes. And the thing is I know just how she feels getting him back. There were times this day I didn’t think I’d see you again, Brendan Fagan.”

“Nor I you.” They gazed solemnly into one another’s eyes, and for several moments the world retreated, leaving only the two of them.

“All day long,” Ginny confessed, “I’ve longed to share something with you—ached for a chance to tell you properly, the way it should be. Not hasty, not thrown at you in the middle of a crowd.”

“Now seems like a good time.”

She drew a breath. Brendan could feel her heart beating against his chest and see the emotions moving in her eyes.

“I don’t usually let myself become vulnerable,” she murmured. “I swore I’d never again let a man get past my defenses. Then you came along with your…your blue eyes and your warm voice and that smile that could probably melt stone.”

“You thought me quite the proper police officer. I hope you’ve learned better now.”

“I’ve learned,” she replied seriously. “Far more than I could have imagined. I learned that loyalty and kindness aren’t exclusive to the human race. I’ve learned sometimes you have to gamble everything—but it’s worth it. I’ve learned if you don’t take a chance and open your heart, you can’t let heaven in.”

“Heaven?”

“You. You’re heaven, Brendan Fagan. It’s here in this bed when I’m with you. It’s in your eyes. I suspect it’s in your heart. And I…” She drew another breath. “I can’t live without it.”

“No?”

“No. And that’s terrifying. It’s terrifying to lose my independence.”

“Ginny, I can’t imagine you ever doing that.”

“To let myself stand where Rose Kelly stands, knowing what would happen to me if something happened to you. I just can’t help…”

He swallowed her words in a kiss, unable to help that either, as a sense of gladness and satisfaction filled him to the brim. Not an easy heart to win, that of Ginny Landry, but a prize finer than any of which he could have dreamed.

When the long, sweet kiss ended, he whispered, “I seem to remember you uttering a certain word back in Niagara Square. I’d like to hear it here and now—properly. Say it, Ginny—say it again.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Instead she laid the palm of her hand on his cheek and spoke with all her heart. “I love you, Brendan Fagan.”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “Does this mean you’ve conquered your preference for ugly men? For when we met, you stated quite clearly you did have a preference.”

“I guess it does, you having won me over with all that charm. And I suspect a number of prejudices have been overcome this day. The future…” She stopped as if she’d run into a brick wall.

“Aye, the future.”

“As you say, there will have to be a lot of changes. Adjustments.”

“The Commissioner will need to be dealt with, for starters.”

“Do you think he knew about the murders?”

“I’m not sure. Klemmer may have been acting on his own. But I don’t doubt Messenberg would condone his actions.”

Ginny shivered. “They slaughtered people just to convince the city that steamies are dangerous. And I don’t care what you say. You, I, and Rom Gideon know at least a few of them are.”

“Ginny, I don’t want to think about it now.” He didn’t want to think about anything but her. Yet a few things, in his opinion, needed to be nailed down.

“No?” She brushed her lips across his very lightly.

“No. I’ve something to say to you in turn. I want it out here and now, fairly between us.” Again he engaged her eyes. “I love you, Ginny Landry. And you’re right—it scares me too. It fair steals my breath, thinking what it would be like if you disappeared from my life. You make me terrible happy, woman. But losing you would shatter me.”

“What makes you think I’m going to disappear from your life?”

“A thousand things. The general uncertainty of this existence which has, of late, been abundantly proven to us. Your tendency to go off on a whim half-cocked and do as you please…”

“Me? Half-cocked? I beg your pardon.”

“I do seem to recall having met you when you were engaged in shooting up a tavern.”

“I’d had a few too many drinks.”

“Oh, was that it?”

“And I hadn’t learned then that there are some things that make it worth laying aside the figurative steam cannon.”

“When it comes to that—there’s the wee matter of you insisting on leaving this city as soon as possible for Dakota.”

“There is that.”

All the air fled Brendan’s lungs; he stared at her in consternation. “So you haven’t changed your mind about that? I confess, I had hoped.”

She regarded him through half-closed eyes. “You’d love the Dakota territories, Brendan Fagan. Wide-open spaces. Freedom of thought and action. Independence of which you can only dream while living here among rules and regulations.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“You could come with me. Start a new life.”

His heart fell violently. “I maybe could. But I discovered something when this city lay in chaos, breaking apart before my eyes. I love you, Ginny, but I love this place too. My parents’ roots are and will always be in Ireland. I carry a large part of the old sod with me also, but my roots are down in this place, wiggled in among the bricks of the streets, twined around the buildings. I’m not sure what yanking them up would do to me.”

“So.” Her eyes held his, relentless. “Which do you want more, this city or me?”

“You, beautiful lass. You. But I suspect this city’s made me the man I am—the very one who loves you.”

“Well, that’s honest.”

“But I understand Dakota, with its open spaces and free breezes, has made you the woman you are. What’s to be done?”

“What, indeed? I suppose one of us will have to bend, if we mean to stay together.”

Aching, he asked, “Do we mean to stay together?”

“I don’t know. It’s not as if I’ve heard any marriage proposals.”

“If I thought you’d marry me, Ginny Landry, I’d propose this instant.”

“But you don’t think I’d marry you?”

“I don’t. I can’t even imagine it.”

“Despite my need to be with you night and day?”

That gave him pause. “Despite that need.”

“Well, now, but there are other considerations,” she mused.

“Are there?”

“Oh, yes. There’s this house. I’ve become uncommonly fond of it. I never thought I’d fall victim to the nesting instinct.”

“Most unlikely, on the face of things.”

“I agree. Yet I find myself thinking of changes I’d like to make—if I stayed, I mean. This room, for instance. I’d like to paint it. What color would you choose?”

“I confess I’m partial to this yellow. Lots of grand and wonderful associations.”

“Really? Well, what about the parlor? It needs redecorating.”

“I think you could do that, aye. If you’re staying.”

“And then there’s my staff. What will they do if I sell the house and move back to Dakota?”

“I hate to think.”

“As do I.” She threaded her fingers through the hair on his chest. “I have to see that Floyd is rebuilt. And Arthur—I need to get him settled in. I must meet with them all and work out a fair wage.”

“All valid reasons to stay.”

“Also, I’m curious to see how things settle out here for the automaton members of this city—a test case, so to speak. Whether couples like the Michaels will be allowed to adopt, and what Chastity and the other hybrids come up with in the way of offspring.”

“You wouldn’t want to miss all that.”

She shot him a look. “If only someone would give me a legitimate cause to stay. Say, a name change. ‘Landry’ is subject to so much distrust in this city.”

“I definitely think you need to change it. Fagan’s a fine name.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“I could arrange for it to be yours.”

Again their gazes met and clung. Brendan nearly melted at what he saw in her eyes.

“Dare I ask you, Miss Virginia Landry, to give up your life in the wild west and live here with me instead?”

She pressed her lips to his with a tenderness that stole the last of his breath. “Just so long as I don’t have to give up my wild ways.”

“Never. Especially not here in this room.”

“Buffalo’s pretty wild anyway. If you mean to advance in the force, I think you could use a steam cannon-packing woman at your side.”

“So do I. Is that a ‘yes’?”

“I haven’t heard the question asked properly as yet, just some claptrap about one of us relocating.”

“Ginny, beautiful woman, girl of my heart, will you marry me?”

“I will. Provided we can live here and you’re willing to put up with an assortment of needy steamies coming and going. I have a feeling I’m going to be collecting them the way some other women collect cats.”

“Bring ’em on,” said Brendan Fagan with a big smile. “Bring them all on.”