His Heart's Home (12 page)

“Well…looking after your brother’s mostly,” Duncan told him. “Aidan can’t go running off again
, and you have to teach Ryan and Liam how to help.”

“And I’ll have to shoot the gun if the Indians come back,” Avery said, very seriously, remembering his duty from the day before.

“Do you
know
how to shoot a gun?”

“Er…not very well,” Avery admitted, embarrassed. “Pa only took me shooting once or twice.”

“Well, we’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?” Duncan said, thinking that lessons might be a good way to bring the boys around. “You weren’t raised in the woods, were you? There’s a lot you’ve got to know.”

Duncan spent the rest of breakfast chatting with Ciaran’s oldest son, veering away from personal topics and talking about plans for “lessons” instead. By the time the boy was called away, he had the sense that, while they weren’t exactly friends, Avery had taken the first step down a road that led to trust. There was something to build on, at least.

Duncan rinsed his dish in the creek, stealing a glance at Ciaran as he did. She was still busily washing the clothes, oblivious to his gaze, how even the
sight
of her was enough to make him burn.

When he returned to camp, the men were assembling. A few of them had shovels, and were preparing to start the grim task of burying the dead.

It was grueling, gruesome work, but finally, it was done. They marked the graves with crosses made of sticks, and then returned to camp for dinner and to prepare to depart.

The Munro
’s and the Claiber’s were leaving the following day, heading back the way they’d come. The entire wagon train had agreed to follow them back to the river, keeping them safe until they were out of Indian territory and back on their way, but then they were heading back to Carolina, a little wiser and worse for wear.

Since they weren’t going to settle on the frontier, they didn’t need all of the supplies they’d brought
and could move faster without the extra bulk. What they needed was cash, and Duncan was one of the few from the caravan who had any left. He passed the evening trading, managing to pick up a pair of cows, a sow, three more chickens and half a cartload of staples, timber, and other supplies. He loaded them into Ciaran’s wagon, along with what he’d managed to salvage from Sean, feeling much more prepared to provide for a family than he had the day before.

..ooOOoo..

Ciaran didn’t know how long it was going to take for her and the children to get used to having Duncan around, but she hoped it happened sooner rather than later.  She had mistakenly
thought
it would be so much more relaxing than traveling with Sean.  They didn’t have to worry about Duncan’s temper and he didn’t appear to be prone to violent mood swings. 

The boys were still wary though, given their experience with their father that was hardly surprising, but Ciaran was pleasantly surprised to see Duncan didn’t blame them for their suspicion.  He seemed to be trying everything in his power to put them at ease.

Why couldn’t she relax around him then?

One of the reasons, it had to be said,
was
his unfailing kindness. She still didn’t understand why he would be so nice to them all without getting anything in return. She still wasn’t sure if she genuinely trusted his altruism, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being, to wait and see what happened next…

The other reason why Ciaran couldn’t relax
was because she couldn’t forget how it had felt to be with Duncan.  She got a strange ache deep inside just from looking at the man.  They had been traveling together for a few days now, and he hadn’t broken his word. He hadn’t tried to have her again.  Ciaran still caught him staring at her hungrily every now and then, but he didn’t
act
on the lusty desires she could see reflected in his eyes.  The first time might have been nothing more than a fluke… but what if it
hadn’t
been?  Simply recalling the powerful movement of his body made Ciaran want to test Duncan, just to
see
if it had really been as good as her memory told her.  She didn’t have a clue how to do that without throwing herself at him again though, and the way things had ended last time didn’t exactly encourage her to try again.

“Ma!  I want to go with Mister Duncan and Avery and Ryan!” Aidan whined, looking longingly in the direction that the others had gone some hours ago.

Ciaran looked up from the supper she was fixing over the fire.  She smiled at her son in as consoling a manner as she could muster.  To be honest, she didn’t like the thought of
any
of her children playing with guns, but she knew it was necessary.

“You’re too little, sweetheart,” she said gently.  “Mister MacRae’s rifle is bigger tha
n you are!”

“But I’m as brave as Avery and Ryan!  And Mister Duncan likes me best,” Aidan pouted.

“Hey, you’re not meant to tell people I have a favorite, lad,” Duncan chuckled, appearing with the boys, and ruffling Aidan’s hair affectionately.  Ciaran’s heart squeezed painfully as she watched the tender, artless gesture. 
He would make such a wonderful father
.  “And besides,” Duncan continued, winking, “I had to leave you and Liam to look after your ma and sister.”

“Oh,”
Aidan nodded, his eyes grew wide, and then he beamed happily.  “We did a good job!” he said eagerly.

“Aye, you certainly did,” Duncan laughed.  Ciaran’s toes curled as her skin prickled with awareness.  It was
so attractive, the way he handled the children. 

Sean had
never
behaved so easily with any of the boys- not even on his good days-
and
they had been
his
sons.  It was wonderful to see Duncan patiently try to win them around, restoring their trust in people.  He had already gone a long way with Aidan.  Without really thinking about it, Ciaran smiled up at him over the top of the little boy’s head, and blushed when Duncan smiled back, blue eyes twinkling.

“Supper’s almost ready,” she murmured, lowering her eyes and returning her attention to the food.

The boys talked while Ciaran put the finishing touches to their simple meal.  The older two boys were telling their younger brothers all about the shooting lesson they’d just had with Duncan.  They were still wary of the Scot, but it was easy to see and hear a real difference in them since Mr. MacRae had started traveling with the family.  They talked more openly, and they talked like
children
.  What was more, they didn’t go slinking off at every possible opportunity. Even Aidan hadn’t been getting lost so often.

“Well, I hope you’re all hungry,” Ciaran said, calling everyone over to eat around the fire.  She dished up the food and they said grace, and then Avery started boasting about how much better he was at shooting than Ryan.

“Well you
aren’t
better than Mister MacRae!” Ryan huffed, attempting to bring his brother down a peg or two.

Avery pulled a face.  “I will be one day!” he declared.

“Avery!” Ciaran sighed. 

“But I want to be the best, Ma!  And it’s
easy
to beat Ryan.”

“Ugh!  I’m going to get you!” Ryan yelled
.

He launched himself at Avery
but Duncan caught him gently by the arm before any meals could be sent flying.  The Connelly’s froze.  Each one of them stared, riveted by fear, at the Scottish laird, waiting to see what he would do next, hardly breathing.  Duncan was the only one who didn’t seem to notice the sudden terrifying tension.

“Just ignore him, lad,” he advised, letting go of Ryan
’s arm once the boy had sat back down.  “My brother started out a better shot than me, but I caught him up in the end.  Besides, you don’t want to leap around and ruin your Ma’s delicious meal, do you?”

“No, sir,” Ryan whispered, staring at Duncan in complete confusion.

“Good lad,” Duncan nodded, and then he grinned and added in a loud whisper.  “And I’ll give you a few tips to help you out when Avery’s not around.”

Ryan grinned, and went back to eating.  Ciaran smiled shakily too, and sighed in her relief.  The atmosphere was easy again.  The danger had passed.  She wasn’t even sure there
had
been any danger.  Duncan was such a totally different breed of man compared to what she expected after Sean.

The family finished eating supper, and then Ciaran announced it was time for the boys to go to bed.

This declaration was met with whines of protest by all the boys. Ciaran wondered if they were testing the Scotsman’s restraint. Certainly, they had never put up such a fuss for Sean. She was embarrassed by their behavior, and didn’t expect him to put up with it. Any other man would surely have made his excuses and wandered off to have a whiskey by the fire, but Duncan’s marvelous patience held.

“Well, now,” he said slowly. “I reckon it isn’t fair to send you off without a story at least.”

This suggestion was met with enthusiasm.

“Will
you
tell the story, Mr. MacRae?” Aidan asked, clambering up on the Laird’s lap without invitation.

“Yes! Do!” Avery piped up.

“I want to hear a story about dragons!” Liam said.

Avery had a different idea: “I want to hear about a
battle
!”

Ciaran wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw a shadow pass across the Scotsman’s face
. When she blinked, it had gone away. “I don’t know any good stories about that,” he said in a throaty whisper.

The children didn’t seem to note his suddenly somber mood, and continued calling out suggestions.

“I like the story about the pooka!” Aidan chimed in with a sleepy yawn.

His older brother Ryan jabbed him in the rib, “There aren’t any pookas in Scotland!”

“Yes there are!” Aidan insisted.

Duncan shook his head gently, his eyes crinkling in the corners from his smile, “I’m afraid not, laddie. They haven’t figured out how to swim yet, and they don’t have any boats.”

“But...!” Aidan’s little brow furrowed. “Who cleans the houses then?”

Duncan chuckled, not quite catching the reference to Irish folklore, but working out the gist. “The mama’s clean the houses,” he told Aidan apologetically. “Or sometimes the brownies do.”

“What’s a brownie?” Liam asked, frowning.

“What’s a brownie?” Duncan echoed, pretending to be shocked at the boys
’ ignorance. “Well now- it sounds like we might have our story then! Unless…” he let his voice trail off, so that all the boys leaned forward in suspense. “Unless you’d rather hear about the selkies instead.”

“I don’t know what a selkie is either,” Liam admitted.

Duncan nodded, “Aye, I reckon you wouldn’t- owing to there aren’t any here…though, I’ve heard there might have been a few in Ireland…” he paused, looking thoughtful. “The selkies are the people who live in the sea.”

Avery made a snorting sound. “People don’t live in the sea!”

“They do,” Duncan said, still playing up his reaction for the children’s amusement, acting as if the
suggestion
that the selkies were make-believe was blasphemy. “They put on their seal skins when they’re in the water, and look
just
like regular seals, but underneath, they’re as human as you and me!”

“That’s not true
- is it mama?” Aidan asked, uncertainly.

Ciaran merely shrugged and smiled.

“Of course it’s true!” Duncan snorted, defensively. “My brother Thomas and I managed to catch a selkie once…”

Ciaran busied herself cleaning up the supper as Duncan told his story. They couldn’t afford to waste a crumb, and so she carefully wrapped the bread in cotton sacks and scraped the cooling beans into a covered pot which she put in the back of the cart. When she was finished, she stacked the bowls for washing, and then checked the chickens one last time, putting the eggs she found into a basket for breakfast the next morning, before settling down with Mary to nurse the baby to sleep while Duncan finished his tale.

“…and you never saw her again?” Liam asked anxiously. Duncan had just finished explaining how his little brother, Ewan, had been tricked by the selkie into giving back her skin, and she dashed away back to the sea.

Duncan shook his head gravely. “No. We never saw her again…well, not in her human form- but there was a whole colony of seals that lived by our castle and I
swear
that one day, while Thomas and I were watching, we saw a seal with blue eyes and a silver necklace,
exactly
like the one my mother lost!”

Liam gasped. “It
must
be her!”

Duncan chuckled, “Perhaps it was
, but that’s enough for tonight now,” he told them, standing slowly to shoo the boys off to bed. Aidan had fallen asleep in his arms, and the Scot carried him carefully to the wagon, tucking him into a pile of blankets next to where Mary lay.