Page 58 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

That Saturday, Maggie eyed herself in the little square mirror hanging over the washbasin that was mottled with age and only allowed her to view a small portion of her person at a time.It was the night of the dance, and she’d taken pains with her appearance while at the same time feeling silly to do so.

Brendan might not even be there and, even if he was, Maggie doubted he would dance with her. She’d been in Juneau for over five months now and, amazingly, considering what a small town it was, she hadn’t seen him once since he’d left their room the morning after his drunken ramble. The reasonable conclusion Maggie felt compelled to draw was that Brendan had gone to great lengthsnotto be seen.

And yet… she smoothed down the front of her dress, the silk a little crumpled from being kept in her trunk, as well as smelling of mothballs. A spritz of lavender water and a runover with a hot iron had helped, but only a little. And yet, she still hoped. Still wanted to see him again, because after all their stops and starts, their jumbled expressions of both affection and anger, the things they’d thought they’d wanted and the things they hadn’t… she wanted to tell him what she knew now was the truth.

Or, she wondered wryly, had absence simply made the heart grow fonder?

If she saw him again, maybe she’d finally know.

“Well, aren’t you a stunner!” her father exclaimed, whistling as he stood back to gaze at her admiringly. “You’ll be the loveliest lady in the room without a question!”

“Do you think so?” Laughing self-consciously, Maggie did a little twirl, the skirts of her dress flaring out as she spun. “I feel silly,” she admitted, and her father shook his head firmly.

“You don’t look silly,a chroi. You look beautiful. And while you’re out painting the town red, Danny and I will be snug at home with our favorite girl.” He smiled at Sheetka, who ducked her head, peeking up beneath her lashes with a shy smile that warmed Maggie’s heart. Her father had taken to the little girl farbetter than she ever could have hoped, and she believed Sheetka returned his affection, in her own quiet way.

“I don’t think there will be any painting going on,” she replied primly, and her da just laughed.

“Ah, Maggie, my girl, you need to learn how to kick up your heels and have some fun. Your brother certainly knows how to.”

“Yes, he does,” Maggie replied tartly. More than once, Danny had stumbled into their cabin well past midnight, smelling of spirits. She didn’t approve, but he was eighteen years old now, truly a man, and he would live his life as he chose. At least her father seemed to have abandoned such carryings-on, although he was still partial to a generous nip from his flask.

“Well, it isn’t often I say this,” her father replied, his eyes twinkling, “but maybe, my girl, you could take a page from your brother’s book, just this once.”

“Oh, Da.” Smiling, Maggie went over and kissed his grizzled cheek. “I will do my best to have a good time,” she promised and he caught her hand in his, looking, for a moment, almost tearful.

“I’m glad,” he told her, his voice choking a little as he squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you came with us all the way to Alaska, Maggie. It feels like I got a second chance.”

Maggie squeezed his hand back, moved. “So did I,” she murmured softly, and then, bending down to hug Sheetka briefly, she reached for her shawl before heading out into the twilit evening.

She could hear the music from a block away, lights blazing from inside the schoolhouse. While the dances were technically open to everyone, it was only the well-to-do of Juneau society who went—the bankers and shopkeepers, the mine managers and schoolteachers and those who considered themselves a cut above the ragtag prospectors and miners.

Maggie hesitated a moment on the threshold of the schoolroom, feeling unaccountably nervous. She knew as soonas she stepped across, she would immediately start looking for Brendan. She knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself.

As she stepped inside, though, the dance already well under way with a lively reel, the band playing a merry tune, she couldn’t see him anywhere. She didn’t have much opportunity to look, however, for within seconds she was claimed for a dance by Joseph Harrison, one of the brothers who ran the Bank of Juneau, and after that by Alfred Spiles, who worked at the hardware, and for the rest of the evening, Maggie was so busy dancing with one partner after another that she barely had a chance to catch her breath, never mind look for Brendan.

It seemed young ladieswerein demand for dances, just as Mrs. Marks had said.

In fact, it wasn’t till just before the final waltz that Maggie was able to pause to look around the crowded room for his familiar face. Mrs. Marks had told her it was a tradition to dance the final waltz with the person nearest you and then accompany them to the supper put on for the dancers at the roadhouse across the way.

Plenty of men were jostling to be closest to Maggie the moment the band struck up the waltz, so they could claim that honor, but then through the crowd of dancers with their flushed faces and falling-down hair, best Sunday dresses now crumpled from exertion and suits whose jackets had been shed, she saw a flash of brown hair, and something about the set of the man’s shoulders, whose back was to her, made the breath she was still trying to catch stop right in her chest.

Then he turned around, and for an endless second it felt as if they were the only people in the crowded room.

Brendan.

CHAPTER 31

Brendan’s gaze met hers from across the room and for a long moment Maggie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and certainly couldn’t think. All she could do was feel—a torrent of emotion, rushing faster than Gold Creek, with Brendan like an immovable rock at its center.

She loved him, Maggie knew in that moment.Trulyloved him, and maybe always had, but she just hadn’t known her own silly, schoolgirl heart. Or maybe she’d simply fought against it for so long because love was frightening, especially a love like this, that rushed through her and made her feel like she’d do anything,anything, for him to feel the same way.

Maggie swallowed hard, lightheaded, a buzzing in her ears, as she walked across the room. Someone reached for her arm, another tapped her on her shoulder, both believing they had the right to claim her waltz.

Maggie ignored them completely.

Brendan hadn’t moved from where she’d first spied him. He simply stood, waiting for her to come to him, looking so wonderfully familiar and yet also somehow different. Leaner, harder, older, but with the twinkle in his eyes she so loved, his mouth already tugging up at one corner in a wry smile.

“I think several gentlemen are trying to claim your attention,” he remarked when she was finally standing right in front of him.