The Parting Glass (49 page)

“Well, I want you to marry me. Soon. You ain’t going to be happy staying around here, that’s for sure. People I work for ain’t real happy with your father right now, and it’s gonna be no fun living here. You’re lucky I still want to marry you.
He’s
lucky.”

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yeah, he looks like a bungler, and nobody where I come from likes bunglers. A bungler’s daughter?” Liam could almost hear him shrug. “A bungler’s daughter ain’t in high demand, either,” Cassidy finished.

“I would hate to saddle you with a bungler’s daughter.”

“Hey, listen, that stuff’ll blow over after we’re married. I can make sure it does. Your father will have to listen to me, though. No mistake about that. I’ll own him.”

“Well, good luck there. He’s not much of a listener.”

“So, you want to set a date now?”

There was a long pause. Liam could almost read the poor young woman’s mind. She was caught in a trap she had tried to avoid, but it had been thrust in her path, and now she was being forced to step into it.

“I’ll marry you…Niall, but not right away.” Her voice grew softer, as if she was moving away from the door, and probably Niall. “Until a few months ago I thought I had a vocation. I was going to become a nun. And now I’m going to be a married woman. Can you see? I need a little time to adjust.”

“How much time?” He did not sound happy.

“Just enough to enjoy being a bride-to-be for a little while. Surely you won’t deny me the excitement of planning a wedding, choosing a dress, coming to Chicago to meet your friends?”

“What kind of wedding? Tim’s not going to be able to do much for you.”

“Oh, small and simple, but the details have to be just right. I want to be married in my own church, with my friends around me. I want you to be proud of me, and I want our life together to start off well. Maybe I’m superstitious, but I feel strongly that a good marriage starts off with a good wedding. And we need to get to know each other a little more. I want to know how to please you.”

“Oh, I can show you how to do that now. But put the ring on first.”

Liam leaned forward in his chair. There was silence, then Clare gave a little cry. “Oh, I’m sorry, Niall, but it’s much too large. If I wear it now it will fall right off my finger.”

“We’ll take care of that tomorrow. I’ll take you downtown and get it fixed. Nice and tight.”

“Yes, well, okay…” There was a pause. “Niall, I don’t—”

“Come on. Don’t you think I deserve a kiss for that? A kiss for the flowers and one for the ring, and maybe one ’cause we’re getting married.” He didn’t sound happy. Clearly Niall Cassidy normally chose women he didn’t have to ask.

There was silence, and Liam got to his feet. But he didn’t go into the parlor. Not yet. There was no use making a fuss if one wasn’t needed, and a kiss, even three kisses, didn’t warrant an interruption.

“That’s enough, Niall.” Clare sounded breathless and definite. “Remember, we’re not married yet.”

“Yeah, well, we oughta be. I don’t know why we should wait, unless you’re trying to stall. I know a hundred girls who would marry me like that.”

Liam waited for Clare to advise Niall to seek them out, but obviously she knew better. “What kind of a wife do you want, Niall? The kind who throws herself at men?”

“Nah, I’ll settle for one who throws herself at me.” Something scraped across the floor, and Liam’s hand flew to the glass of water. “You got some things to learn. Might as well learn ’em now.”

Liam threw the door open so hard that it banged. “Here’s your water, Miss—” She was pressed against the wall with Cassidy’s body holding her in place and her head turned away from his. Liam felt rage rising inside him. The man was an animal and didn’t deserve a woman like this one.

“Just a minute,” Liam said. “I’m Miss McNulty’s bodyguard. You’re getting a little carried away.”

“Get out!” Cassidy shouted. “Or
your
body will need embalming!”

Liam didn’t want a fight. “I know a taste of the clover makes a thief of the cow, friend, but let’s not move too fast. Let’s just take it nice and easy. A pretty woman can do things to a man. I know—”

Cassidy rushed him before the rest of the sentence was out. Just before Cassidy reached him, Liam tossed the glass of water in his face. From the corner of his eye, he watched Clare scurry toward the door into the dining room.

Cassidy sputtered as the water sloshed over him, but he kept coming, snorting like a bull. Liam wondered which institution had been a better teacher? The streets of Chicago’s North Side or a Christian Brothers orphanage?

He leaped to one side and stuck his leg out. As he’d expected, Cassidy went sprawling, but he took Liam with him, so that they were on the floor rolling over and over together before Liam could tell which side was up.

A fist smashed into his cheek. Liam wrapped his hands around Cassidy’s neck and squeezed. Cassidy smashed at him again, but Liam squeezed harder. Finally Cassidy was forced to grab Liam’s hands and try to pull them free. Liam rolled over again, and this time he was on top. He thumped Cassidy’s head against the floor as he choked him. Once, twice, until Cassidy managed to pry his hands loose. He grabbed Cassidy’s wrists as they rolled over again, but it was all he could do to hold them away from him.

Cassidy was grinning like a madman. Clearly he had the upper position, and in a moment he expected to have the upper hand. There was a crash, and the grin died slowly. He slumped and fell over, freeing Liam, who still held tightly to his forearms.

Clare stood above them. The remaining shards of a large crystal vase fell from her hands.

Liam stared up at her.

“Too bad, isn’t it?” she said faintly. “This vase was the only one large enough for those hideous flowers he brought me.”

Liam was momentarily tongue-tied. Part of him wanted to laugh. The other part, the part that saw the repercussions of her action, was frozen in disbelief.

“Be careful when you get up,” she warned.

He pushed Cassidy farther to one side and sat up. “You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

“I think I might have saved your life.” She was very pale. He was fearful she might not remain on her feet.

“I would have been jim-dandy without you,” he said, his pride wounded.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She stepped back and leaned against the arm of a chair. “What are we going to do?”

Liam didn’t know. He couldn’t dump Cassidy on the front lawn, although there was no one—particularly the unconscious Cassidy—to stop him. McNulty was going to be furious. And clearly the deal was off now. When Cassidy regained consciousness, he would figure out what had happened to him. No matter how strenuously Clare protested that someone else had broken the vase over his head, Cassidy would know.

“I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t me,” Clare said, as if she had read his thoughts. “Enough of lying to the man.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m leaving.” She held up a hand. “And don’t tell me you’re going to stop me. Do you think you have a place here after this? Besides, there’s no job now, Liam. My father is out of business. He’ll be lucky to survive. He certainly can’t pay you anymore.” She swallowed hard.

“Are you packed?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll make sure you get wherever you plan to go.”

“You don’t have to—” she began.

“Get your things right now. He’ll wake up, and all hell’s going to break out the moment he does.”

She turned and fled the room, returning with a good-sized valise. Liam was on his feet by then. He had successfully picked his way through the glass and was waiting for her in the hall. Cassidy was just beginning to groan.

“Follow me,” he said. “We’re going out the back way. Be thinking about where you want to hide.”

“I know where I’m going. The Whiskey Island Saloon.”

She was escaping to
his
family. He knew better than to spend even a moment savoring the irony.

chapter 32

C
lare looked around to be sure she hadn’t been detected; then she grasped the door of the Whiskey Island Saloon and pushed. The door was locked.

For a moment panic filled her. Niall would be awake now, and he wasn’t a man to slink away. He would look for her, and it was only a matter of time before her father became involved. Tim would notice immediately that Liam was gone, too. What if Liam had mentioned her picnic with Glen to anyone, anyone at all? Would they then put the facts together and think to look here?

She rattled the door this time, hoping she’d been mistaken, that it was simply stuck. But the door was locked tight.

She could go to Glen’s apartment, but what if he wasn’t there? They were leaving town tonight. Surely his day had been filled with arrangements. Still, what were her choices? The few friends she’d been allowed to cultivate might shelter her, but those were the first places her father would look. She thought of the church, but she didn’t know if St. Brigid’s priest would believe her story. Her father gave large sums of money to help the parish poor.

With little choice, she turned to head to Glen’s apartment. When she was several steps away, she heard the door open behind her, and she spun around. “Oh, I thought no one was here.”

“We’re closed for the day. There’s a…an event tonight.”

Clare smiled in relief. “Oh, I think I’m invited to that.”

The woman frowned. She was middle-aged, with a rectangular face and heavy-lidded green eyes. “Do we know you?”

“Not yet. I’m Clare McNulty. Are you Mrs. Donaghue?”

“Clare…” The woman studied her; then she smiled a little. “Well, I can see what the fuss is about. Come in. You’re a bit early, aren’t you?”

“I had to be.” Clare wondered how much to tell her. She wanted to warn everyone that there might be trouble if her father found her, but she really didn’t want her future mother-in-law to know that she had just attacked a man with heirloom Waterford crystal.

The smile disappeared, and with one strong tug, Glen’s mother ushered her inside. “You’re not safe, are you?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I really hope not, at least nobody who would hurt me.” Clare was suffused with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger. Maybe I should go. Maybe we can think of a place where Glen can meet me. We could be married once we’re settled.”

“In a pig’s eye. I’m Glen’s mother, Fenola. You may call me Mother.” Fenola turned and gave a sharp whistle. In a moment they were surrounded. “This is Glen’s wife-to-be,” Fenola announced once the din had settled. Clare’s cheeks were bright with embarrassment. “Someone take her upstairs and help her unpack and hang out her dress. Maryedith, that will be you.”

A young woman who looked very much like Glen stepped forward. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Heaven help you if you ever want to have a conversation when the World Series is on the radio. And I hope you like meat loaf and mashed potatoes, because from what I can tell, Glen eats it for every meal.”

“That will do, Maryedith,” Fenola said. “You can educate the poor girl later. Right now she needs a few minutes to recover from meeting us. Then she can come downstairs and learn all our names.”

With one chop of Fenola’s hand the family parted like wheat falling to the thresher, and Maryedith led Clare toward a door that apparently led upstairs.

Clare turned around and gazed back at all of them. No one had moved.

“I hope someday I can learn everything about you. Every one of you.” She turned back and followed Maryedith up a set of steps. Behind her, she heard Fenola.

“So what are you gawking at? She’s lovely, she has good manners, and Glen’s in love with her. What more do you need to know?”

Liam knew his days in Cleveland were numbered now. Even though it was McNulty’s own daughter he’d rescued, he knew that McNulty would not understand. The man’s whole future was at stake. His daughter’s virtue was of lesser importance.

Despite that, Liam thought he had less to fear from McNulty than from Cassidy. McNulty was not a man to get his own hands dirty, and his employees had little reason for loyalty. Soon enough McNulty would be out of business for good. Liam was well liked, and he doubted McNulty could entice anyone to kill him for the pleasure of it. Cassidy, though, was a man who would seek revenge on his own terms. He would find Liam, or even his family, and the rest didn’t bear thinking about.

Liam dropped Clare off at the Whiskey Island Saloon, then he headed for home. The moment he arrived he shouted for Brenna, and when she came down the stairs with Irene trailing behind, his throat nearly closed with sorrow.

“Brenna…”

She searched his face; then she nodded. “Where shall we go?”

He had thought of nothing else on the trip home. “I want you to take a train to Toledo. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

“No.”

“Brenna—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “I won’t leave town, not until I know you’re safe.”

“You have Irene to think about.”

“I won’t do it.”

He tried to think of another solution, but she thought of one first. “The old ladies, the ones I worked for. They’ll take me in. No one will trace me there. You can call me, even if you can’t see me. Promise you will.”

The plan was sound enough. The ladies lived across town, and most likely nobody in the Tierneys’ new neighborhood knew that Brenna had ever worked as a housekeeper, much less for whom. Even if Cassidy found his way to their old neighborhood, it was unlikely that anyone would remember the details of her employment.

“I’ll take you there, but you have to hurry.”

“I have clothes packed, and toys for Irene.”

“How did you know?”

“I can read, Liam. Don’t you think I figured out you were involved in that raid on Whiskey Island? Don’t you think I’ve been worried sick about you?” She fled back upstairs, and he let her go. For the moment he let her believe that it was only the police they had to fear.

By the time twilight had deepened and Glen reached the family saloon, he didn’t know what to expect. He certainly didn’t expect the air of excitement that greeted him, or the smell of his grandmother’s special dishes scenting the air. His mother took him aside and lectured him for not coming to her or his father first. His father, Terry, a tall handsome man who stooped a little these days and worried about losing his hair, took him aside and accused him of trying to break his mother’s heart.