To Love A Wild Irishman

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Shite! What had just happened?

Finnegan pulled his pin from his pocket and picked the lock of an empty room after he'd knocked to ensure no one was currently using it. He had seen the gentleman leave this room just moments before and it was his hope that he'd find a suitable disguise among his belongings.

Finnegan slipped into the room and pulled the door closed behind him. He flopped down on the tidy bed and covered his face with his hands, needing a few moments to compose himself and think.

For most of his life Finnegan had cared about only a few things and those were himself, whiskey, gambling and bedding as many pretty women as he could find. Then he'd made the decision to go to his childhood friend for help and now his entire world was turned upside down.

Hell he was still at half-mast in his pants after that kiss Little Cass had snuck upon him. His only intention had been to break her fall because he had not wanted her injured and somehow that had gotten turned into him nearly tearing her new clothes from her sleek little body and ravaging her...

Finnegan shook his head and leapt from the bed. Not Cassandra. He could not do that to her! Finnegan wasn't a good enough man for her. Cassandra would be the settling down forever type and there were still too many trails to ride, too many poker games to play, races to bet on and pretty women to bed for Finnegan to even think about settling down.

"We're Irishmen, my boy! 'Tis in our blood to care only for what makes us happy and not for others. Drink, rut, brawl and laugh that is our motto and a fine and dandy one at that!" Finnegan could hear his father's words in his head and he tried to repeat them but out loud but they no longer sounded right on his tongue.

Whiskey. What he needed was whiskey. Finnegan slid open a compartment and found luggage. He pulled it down and began rifling through it and he nearly cried out with joy when he found the small bottle of clear, bubbly goodness.

"Rye whiskey, how I love you," he whispered before taking a big long swig. He welcomed the instant sensation of numbness it lay upon his lips and tongue and then the burn as the liquid worked its way down.

He slid the cork back in the bottle and then dropped it into his pocket. Feeling much more like himself now that he'd had a drink, Finnegan once again began going through the luggage to find a suitable disguise to wear to lunch with Vincent Little.

Could he simply have their meal sent to their room? Yes he could. But then where would be the fun in that?

***

Cassandra shuffled along behind Finnegan with her head down and trusting him not to cause her to collide with anything. This scarf around her head made seeing much difficult in these close quarters of the hall and it also made breathing uncomfortable. She had no idea how those women from the eastern world wore garments like these daily. It would drive her batty!

Finnegan looked just as ridiculous as she did though no one would realize it if they did not know how he looked at any other time. His wild and unruly dark hair had been slicked back on his head with enough grease to fry fifty chickens. He had found quite a dapper suite and waistcoat somewhere on this train and even had a cane with silver handle draped over his arm. A golden pocket watch chain draped over his flat stomach and a pair of wire rimmed spectacles sat low on his nose.

She knew her father would not recognize him. The last time Vincent Little had seen Finnegan Callahan he'd had more hair than head and a skinny boyish figure. Finnegan certainly had a man's body now as was made evident by the muscles she could feel beneath her hand as she gripped his upper arm, and his hair lay slick and neat.