A moment later, Oscar exited and started down the creaking steps to the pub.
Bellamy pushed himself up until he was sitting on the edge of the sofa. With the late hours they worked at the pub every night, they usually weren’t early risers. Bellamy kept even later hours painting in the shed, so it wasn’t unusual for him to sleep away the mornings, sometimes not getting up until almost noon.
But today, he knew as well as Oscar that he was wasting time abed when he still had the looming challenge of finding a partner for Deirdre Whitcomb.
Somehow everyone had learned of the senator’s challenge and of Bellamy’s confident response that he would find a match for the man’s daughter. If only the senator had given him longer than a week.
But Bellamy had discovered the senator was getting pressure from Senator Snyder, who held the position of majority leader and was a powerful man. It had taken only a little asking around for Bellamy to learn that most of the younger senators did Snyder’s bidding or ended up with ruined reputations and short political careers.
The rumor circulating around St. Louis was that Snyder wanted to marry Deirdre. But since he was a widower in hisforties, Deirdre had refused, and her father didn’t have the heart to force her into the marriage. He’d come to Bellamy to form a love match for his daughter, probably hoping a hasty marriage to a man Deirdre loved would provide a feasible excuse for why she wasn’t available to Snyder.
Regardless, Bellamy was failing the mission. Now he had no choice but to talk to Zaira and see if she could help him.
“So?” Jenny’s question came from the kitchenette off to the side of the living area.
Bellamy rested his elbows on his knees, then buried his face in his hands. He loved his sister, but he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from her this morn any more than he’d been needing the lecture from Oscar.
Her agile footsteps crossed the room toward him. She stopped in front of him and held a cup of coffee low enough that the waft of the strong brew rose to fill his senses.
He took the mug from her. “Thank you.”
She smoothed a hand through his hair just like she’d always done since he’d been a wee babe. “You’re a grand man, Bellamy McKenna. Doncha be forgetting that because I sure won’t be.”
With twelve years’ age difference, Jenny had been more like a mother to him than sister. In fact, Jenny had been the one to raise him for most of his childhood. She’d fed and clothed him, rocked him to sleep when he’d been fussy, hugged him when he was scared, and kissed his scrapes when he’d been hurt. She’d been there for him every step of his life with a fierce, motherly love he’d never gotten from their mam.
The only thing he’d gotten from Mam was his love of painting. During the rare times when Mam had been aroundand available, she’d taken great pleasure in teaching him how to paint. She’d always come to life when she held a paintbrush in her hands. Her melancholy had disappeared for a short while, and in those moments, she’d been someone he’d admired and someone he’d wanted to be like.
If only Oscar had accepted her for who she was, painting and all. But he never had supported his wife’s talent or efforts. He’d only criticized her and made her feel bad about painting, the same way he had with Bellamy.
Bellamy had long ago determined that he didn’t care what Oscar thought of his painting. Oscar could criticize him all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change Bellamy’s desires or plans to paint. He intended to carry on and do everything his mam had dreamed of and never been able to accomplish.
Jenny’s fingers smoothed back his hair again before she cupped his cheek. “You know that even if you make this match, you’ll still have to do the one thing you don’t want to if you plan to solidify your place as the next matchmaker.”
He knew what she was referring to—the pressure for the matchmaker to get married. It wasn’t necessarily a requirement, but most people would be more willing to take marital advice from a married matchmaker than from a single one. Bellamy understood the logic. He just hoped to prove he was different.
He offered his sister a half grin. “So, you’re trying to scare me away from following in Oscar’s footsteps, are you?”
Her beautiful brown eyes regarded him seriously. She had such pretty features, but over recent years she’d grown more haggard, especially her eyes, which had taken on a perpetually tired and sad look.
Bellamy suspected some of the sadness had to do with thefact that she’d never been able to have any children of her own. Now that she was nearing her midthirties, perhaps the reality of her childlessness weighed more heavily. Whenever he asked her about it, she always denied that she wanted children, claimed that raising him had been enough for her. But he suspected if given the chance, she’d take a baby or two of her own.
She bent and kissed his forehead, then straightened. “I’m just wantin’ you to be happy, Bellamy.”
He offered her a grateful smile. “I know. And I thank you, Jenny.”
She pressed both hands to his cheeks and held him in place. “Regardless of what you think, you weren’t meant to do this life alone.”
She was hinting again at his need to take a wife, but he ignored it. “That’s why I have you.”
“Oh aye. You’ll always have me.” She held him for a few more seconds, her eyes still sad. Then with a sigh, she released him and started toward the door.
He wanted to reassure her he’d be fine without a wife, but he’d already done so on other occasions. Yet she still persisted in pushing him toward marriage.
She was as well aware as he that every matchmaker in their family had problems with their spouse leaving, cheating, or divorcing them. Their marriages had apparently started with renowned love and passion, but each one had eventually combusted with disaster.
Bellamy wasn’t sure why the matchmakers were lucky with others but so unlucky in love for themselves. A part of him suspected his family was cursed, and that no matter how hard he might try to avoid the curse, he’d end up unlucky too.
Curse or no, he couldn’t put off marriage forever. But he intended to delay it as long as he could—hopefully for years, until he was older and more mature. Maybe after growing in his matchmaking skills, he’d eventually have the discernment to choose a partner wisely and be able to break the unlucky streak or curse or whatever it was.
