Chapter 25

25

Sullivan twisted his mug of ale, his shoulders slumped, his head down. In his corner spot at Oscar's Pub, he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. No one except Bellamy McKenna.

But for the past hour since Sullivan had stormed away from Enya, he'd sat alone, and Bellamy remained behind the bar counter, pouring drinks and chatting with the regular patrons who made a home at the pub. Or at least it seemed they'd taken up residence at the counter, especially the redheaded, toothless old fellow everyone called Georgie.

Of course Georgie had noticed his arrival, and he'd called out to Bellamy that the captain was back. Bellamy had given Sullivan a quick nod. But that had been all.

Sullivan threw back a drink of the ale and in the same motion took stock of Bellamy grinning at one of the fellows while he pushed another Guinness toward him. The haze of cigar smoke wafted in the air, as did the scent of whatever had been cooking for supper, something with cabbage and bacon.

Oscar Fingal McKenna, Bellamy's father and a matchmaker for decades, sat at the opposite corner table with his thick matchmaking ledger that had been passed down in the McKenna family for generations. His gray hair was wavy and disorderly, his face and nose were ruddy, and his body was rounded with age. He had an infectious smile and laugh that made him a favorite, and his pub an inviting and popular place.

Maybe that was why Sullivan had frequented the establishment whenever he was in St. Louis, because being there reminded him of his family.

Tonight, though, he hadn't come to be reminded of home. He'd come because he needed to talk to someone about Enya. And Bellamy was the only one he trusted to bare his broken heart to. Was the young matchmaker afraid to talk to Sullivan because he didn't want to accept that one of his matches had ended in failure?

Yes, failure. Sullivan slapped his mug back onto the table, ale sloshing over and adding to the stickiness already coating the polished dark wood.

Enya's parting comment about his scars had stung. And he'd even been angry about her bringing them up. But in the end, what had hurt the most was that she'd pushed him away again, just as she had every other time.

Blast. He'd tried to take up Bellamy's challenge to win Enya: "You're just the man Enya needs. If anyone can rise to the challenge of helping her, you can."

Clearly he hadn't been that man. And he hadn't been able to rise to the challenge of helping her.

In that moment at the house in the baby's nursery, she'd kissed him. He'd believed the kiss had been her way of signal ing that she finally cared about him, that she accepted him for who he was—or at least was beginning to.

He pushed his drink away, propped his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands. Her kiss—their kissing—had been like jumping fully into one of his dreams about her, the dreams where she wanted him the same way he wanted her, where they no longer had any barriers between them, and where they could share everything together.

So what had happened?

If she would have told him that she didn't want to be away from him, he probably would have taken time off from being on the river. Because the truth was, the closer they'd come to St. Louis, the more he'd felt an undercurrent of dread—the dread of having to leave her behind for any length.

He'd contemplated asking her to travel with him on his next voyage. But he didn't want to subject her to living on a steamer in his captain's cabin, especially now that he was under suspicion for transporting runaways.

Yet he hadn't been ready to say good-bye. And he'd hoped she wasn't ready to say good-bye to him either.

Obviously, that hadn't been the case. She'd all but sent him away.

Now what? What else could he do?

The truth was, he'd already done everything he could to win her. But that hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough.

He released another groan, glad for the boisterous conversations at other tables that drowned out his misery. He shoved back from the table and stood. He still had plenty of time before the two-o'clock hour when he'd have to determine whether it was safe enough for his stowaway to make her escape or wait for another night. Even so, he was ready to go.

Without looking around, he wound through the tables. It had been a mistake to come. He could figure out what to do on his own.

As he reached the door and stepped out into the night, he tugged his captain's hat down for protection against the light drizzle. Carriages and horses lined the street. But he intended to walk to the levee. Hopefully, the cool air would help clear his head.

He started down the boardwalk and made it only a few steps before the door behind him burst open.

"Captain, wait." It was Bellamy.

Sullivan didn't slow his stride. He'd already made up his mind. And now he didn't need the matchmaker's advice. Little good it had done him previously anyway.

"The challenge gets hard," Bellamy called after him, "so you give up and run away?"

Frustration ripped through Sullivan's gut, and he couldn't keep from stopping and spinning. "I'm not running. She is."

Bellamy was leaning against the doorframe of the pub, his arms crossed, the light of the nearby street lantern casting a glow over his nonchalance and irritating Sullivan all the more.

"'Tis easy enough to stay and fight for your marriage when you have mostly smooth sailing," Bellamy said. "But it takes a man with courage and stamina to stay and fight when the seas are turbulent."

Other pedestrians were slowing to watch the exchange. But thankfully with the rain and cold, the streets were quieter and fewer people were milling about to witness his humiliation.

Sullivan stalked back until he was only a few feet from Bellamy. "I have been strong." His voice was low. "And I have tried to win her night and day for the past two months. But she sabotages the closeness and pushes me away every time."

"Is that a fact, now?"

Sullivan shook his head. Why had he thought Bellamy would understand? Instead, he was offering platitudes.

"You should have matched me with the type of woman I asked for. Then maybe she'd be satisfied with me."

"From everything I heard tonight about you and Enya, she's satisfied with you."

Sullivan was tempted to ask what Bellamy had heard, but it didn't matter. "She just told me she didn't love me."

"Then keep loving her until she can't help but love you back."

"I've already tried, and there's nothing more I can do."

"Ach, there's always more you can do if you look hard enough."

"Not when I'll never be good enough for her."

Bellamy narrowed his eyes.

Sullivan suddenly wished he could take back his words. Why had he spoken so freely with Bellamy? Sullivan wasn't asking for pity or even compassion. He didn't need either.

The young matchmaker was studying him, as if seeing the truth of the matter. "Sounds like you need to be accepting yourself first, or you'll just keep holding her at arm's length."

She was the one who kept putting up barriers, not him. At least that's the conclusion he'd come to tonight. But what if he was letting his insecurities come between them? Maybe he had to examine himself more carefully.

"You're a very fine man, Captain Sullivan. Everyone knows it. Now it's time for you to finally realize it."

Was it? Maybe Bellamy was right that he needed to work on accepting himself, flaws and all, before he could truly break down the barriers between himself and Enya.

"In the meantime, dontcha stop letting her know you care." Bellamy took a step back toward the pub door.

Sullivan breathed out a tight lungful. The darkness of the night fell upon him more heavily, along with the ever-present stench of coal smoke in the air.

Bellamy gave him a nod, pushed open the door, and disappeared inside.

Sullivan stared after the matchmaker, fighting the longing to stalk inside and demand more answers. But even as he did so, he knew he couldn't rush back to Enya without first taking some time to make peace with his own issues.

But he would also keep fighting for their marriage, just as Bellamy had suggested, and he would keep loving her until she couldn't stop herself from loving him back.