Page 66 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

“It’s a risk I need to take,” Brendan replied. “I’m not so different from Danny or your da, Maggie, even if you think I am. I want to make my fortune, too.”

“Selling shovels to the miners, rather than panning for gold,” Maggie reminded him with a shaky smile, recalling his similar words from back in Chicago.

“Yes, exactly. But I don’t like the thought of leaving you… or Sheetka.” He glanced at the girl with a smile before turning back to Maggie. “Do you know how to shoot that pistol your father gave you?”

“I’ve never tried,” Maggie admitted.

Brendan gave a decisive nod. “Tomorrow morning, before I go, I’m coming up here to give you some shooting practice. I don’t like the thought of you not being able to defend yourself.”

Maggie swallowed hard and nodded. She didn’t, either, but she’d rather Brendan stayed here and defended her. She really had changed from the spunky, spiky young woman who had insisted on doing everything herself, her own way, she reflected. And yet here in Juneau she was more independent than she’d ever been before.

“Till tomorrow, then,” Brendan said, and Maggie nodded again.

Already, she was dreading saying yet another goodbye. She’d come all the way to Alaska to stay with the people she loved… and yet they kept leaving her, for one reason or another.

CHAPTER 34

The morning of his departure, Brendan came to the cabin as soon as the sun started to rise, leading a black and white Malamute puppy tied with a rope and frisking at his heels.

“What on earth!” Maggie exclaimed as she stood in the doorway of the cabin, one hand to her eyes to shield them from the sun rising above the tree line, making the snow-covered meadow shimmer as if it was plated in precious gold.

“I know, I know,” Brendan told her on a laugh as he drew closer. “But I remember you mentioning you could use the company. Admittedly, Malamutes aren’t the best guard dogs—they’re too friendly for that. But judging by his blue eyes, he’s part Siberian husky, and in any case, he’ll growl and bark if something’s wrong, and that can be a big help, especially if you know how to shoot, which you will.”

“You’re going to teach me in half an hour?” Maggie asked, smiling skeptically. She was already dressed in her nurse’s uniform, and she needed to leave for the hospital, and to take Sheetka to school, shortly.

Brendan grinned. “I aim to try.”

Just then, Sheetka let out a cry of delight and raced toward the puppy, who was nothing more than a fluffball of fur with themost beautiful blue eyes. Maggie watched as the girl dropped to her knees to embrace the dog.

“I guess she likes him,” she told Brendan, and he laughed.

“I guess so. The Tlingit keep dogs, although usually smaller ones for hunting bears. But I suppose any child likes a puppy.”

While Sheetka played with the puppy, Brendan took Maggie out to the meadow to practice shooting. He paced out twenty feet—he told her he didn’t think she would ever need to shoot from any farther away than that—and drew a circle on a tree with a stub of charcoal.

“All right, now the important thing is to keep your arm steady, but without locking your elbow.” He moved her arm in place, his hand covering her own. “Grip the gun high and tight, and when you’re aiming, keep your eye on the front sight—that’s the narrow blade on top of the pistol. And your stance should be like this—” He paused to stand behind her, so close that Maggie’s back was pressed against his chest, his arms around her as he guided her into position. “Feet shoulder width apart, placed firmly, toes facing the target.”

Gently, he moved her into place, and Maggie’s breath caught. She knew she should be focused on the shooting lesson, but his closeness, the soapy smell of his skin and the warmth of his breath fanning her ear and cheek, his arms snug around her, was making her head spin.

“All right?” Brendan asked and then stepped back.

Maggie forced herself to focus, taking a steadying breath before she fixed her gaze on the front sight and then, pressing her lips together, pulled the trigger. The crack of gunshot ran out through the meadow, and Brendan jogged through the snow to the target, letting out a crow of triumph as he turned to face her.

“Not quite a bullseye, but good enough,” he called to her. “You hit a man that close and you may not have killed him, but you’ll surely have knocked him down.”

Maggie lowered her arm, feeling decidedly shaky. “I don’t want to kill anyone,” she told him, and Brendan’s smile slipped.

“I know, and I don’t want you to, either. But if you have to…” He let that thought trail away. “Let’s try again. I brought some extra boxes of ammunition, so you won’t have to worry about wasting bullets.”

They practiced several more times, some shots going wide, others hitting the mark, but all in all, Maggie felt more confident handling the pistol. She still didn’t want to say goodbye, though, but the moment arrived, as she knew it would. The as-yet-unnamed Malamute was tied up by the woodshed, the boxes of ammunition stored safely inside the cabin, and Sheetka was ready for school.

“I’ll write,” Brendan promised her. “The mail steamers are pretty regular now. And I’ll be back by Christmas.”

“Youhope,” Maggie reminded him, and he smiled wryly.

“I hope,” he agreed.

For a second, he simply stood there, and Maggie wondered if he would embrace her. She wanted him to, but she wouldn’t be so forward as to move first. Brendan knew how she felt; she’d told him over a year ago now, and nothing had changed. He had to know that, too. Surely he saw it in her eyes now, as she willed him to take her in his arms.