Call Home the Heart (18 page)

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Authors: Shannon Farrell

Tags: #Romance, #Love Stories, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Call Home the Heart
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"Just what sort of parents did you have?" he asked, surprised.

 

 

"Ones who didn't really take the trouble to keep an eye on me too
closely, I must admit," Muireann said with a small smile. "They
couldn't help it if I was willful."

 

 

"Willful? You? I wonder that makes you say that?" Lochlainn teased.

 

 

Muireann frowned slightly. "You don't think I'm just doing this all
for myself, do you?"

 

 

"No, of course not," Lochlainn hastened to reassure her, hugging her
to his side briefly as he escorted her back into the house. "I think
what you're doing is incredibly brave and selfless. I saw you sell
all your clothes and jewels in Dublin, remember? You could have gone
back to Scotland, never set foot here, never had to sell all your
lovely things.

 

 

"But you did it without even pausing to consider the consequences or
the sacrifice you were making. You gave whatever you could to the
shopkeepers to help them protect their livelihoods yesterday, even
though it left you virtually penniless. How could I feel anything
other than admiration for you?" Lochlainn said candidly, stroking
her cheek with his free hand.

 

 

He accompanied Muireann into the study, where she began loading more
books into the boxes, keeping count of them in a small ledger.
Lochlainn took down the ones on the highest shelves, laughing at her
fondly when she tried to reach and nearly lost her balance. He
caught her by the waist, and it took every ounce of willpower not to
kiss her.

 

 

Muireann thanked him for his help, but he noticed she looked
thoughtful. Finally she admitted, "It wasn't that much of a
sacrifice. I didn't want to go back. I've always been spoilt and
petted, I know, but I want my life to be different. I want to be of
some use in the world. I felt restless, anxious until I came here.

 

 

"Men have careers, jobs and roles in society that take them out of
the home. What would I have done in Scotland except attend dull tea
parties and endless balls? More often than not I used to make
excuses and stay at home with a good book," she confessed. "That's
why I used to sneak around the estate learning how to do things."

 

 

"You're a rare woman, Muireann."

 

 

"And you're a rare man. It must have been hard coming back from
Australia to this, this ruin . . ."

 

 

"This ruin, as you call it, is my home," Lochlainn said stiffly.

 

 

"I know, I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

 

 

"No, it isn't your fault. I can admit the truth even if it is
painful for me to bear. But you've allowed me to dream again. I'll
admit that I was in utter despair when I first met you, but now,
things seem to be a great deal more rosy."

 

 

"I was in despair when you looked after me in the hotel in Dublin,"
Muireann said with a shudder.

 

 

"Let's not talk about it, if it upsets you."

 

 

"I think we should forget about the past and look to the future,"
Muireann said as she moved across the room to where Augustine had
left a pair of decanters on a small dilapidated table.

 

 

"Let's drink to new beginnings, shall we?" she suggested, picking up
the two small glasses that stood there, and checking to see they
were relatively dust free after the rigorous cleaning the room had
received that day.

 

 

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

 

 

Muireann poured two glasses of the amber liquid. "To a whole new
life, for both of us."

 

 

"To a fresh start," Lochlainn toasted. They clinked their glassed
lightly together and smiled.

 

 

Each took a sip of the liquor, and she forced herself to swallow.

 

 

"Ugh! Augustine certainly had rotten taste in brandy!" Lochlainn
gasped, coughing.

 

 

"It's like fire," Muireann wheezed, the tears streaming down her
cheeks.

 

 

She hastily poured them glasses of water from the jug Ciara had left
there, and then began to giggle. "I think it will definitely have to
be for medicinal doses."

 

 

"For whom, the bulls?"

 

 

Muireann laughed aloud then, and Lochlainn, unable to resist her
sparkling beauty any longer, bent and gave her a peck on the lips.

 

 

She stopped laughing then and blinked in puzzlement, before putting
down her glass and going back to her book count. Lochlainn was too
near, too enticing. Why did she respond like this to him whenever
they were alone?

 

 

"Well, I think I'd better clean up and get to bed," Lochlainn said
hesitantly when he saw her withdraw from him.

 

 

"Aye, that sounds like a good idea. And speaking of cleaning up,
I've arranged for laundry and washing day tomorrow. I will not have
the people in my care living in squalor if I can help it. So if
you're first up, you can get the hottest bath. The men are going to
go first, before the women, who will no doubt need longer soaks."

 

 

"I'll look forward to it," Lochlainn said, looking at his grimy
hands, which he was sure would get even worse tomorrow when he began
the timber cutting. "It will certainly be a luxury compared to a
quick dip in the lough."

 

 

"What, you mean you actually bathe in Lough Erne in this weather?"
Muireann asked, aghast.

 

 

"Well, the cold does have a few useful purposes," Lochlainn remarked
somewhat cryptically, giving her one last longing look before he
left her alone with her ledgers.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

The next day Muireann began to organize and revitalize the estate in
earnest. As she had promised, the first thing she did when she rose
at five that morning was to stoke up the boiler.

 

 

Once the water was hot, she got all the tubs filled. All of the
clothes which she had collected the day before, and all the sheets,
went into the tubs. Once Sharon, Brona and Ciara were awake, they
organized some of the other women to help scrub all the clothes and
bedding and hang them out to dry.

 

 

Lochlainn came in early for his bath, and helped Muireann rig up
clotheslines overhead in the kitchen and scullery. Taking some
spars, he also knocked together a few clotheshorses to put in front
of the fire. Then the women withdrew discreetly so the men could
wash and change.

 

 

When they were done with their ablutions they left the washtubs to
the women, and went out to cut the timber and hunt.

 

 

All the women enjoyed the opportunity to bathe and scrub their
clothes. After they had finished, they washed their children one at
a time, and helped hang up their own clothes on the lines.

 

 

Muireann was the only woman who declined to bathe. She had far too
many other chores to do that day, though she enjoyed the horseplay
in the kitchen as she worked.

 

 

 Setting aside some of the meat the men had caught the previous
day, Muireann took the rest and salted it. She placed it in the
smoke house to slowly preserve, while she cut up the rest into small
pieces.

 

 

Some of it went into the large stew pot for dinner that afternoon.
The rest went into several succulent pies that Sharon, Brona and
Ciara made. She also took her turn kneading bread dough, and
chopping firewood for all the ovens that were now going full-blast.

 

 

Lochlainn had informed her that there was only one good bakery in
Enniskillen, so she had decided to take the remaining flour in the
storage jars and make things from it to sell.

 

 

Patrick and Siobhan had taken the cart to market in Donegal that
morning, and had been instructed to buy as many provisions as they
could with the money they received, but only after purchasing some
good laying hens.

 

 

Muireann planned to start a milk, egg, bread, turf and timber round
for the townspeople. She was sure she could turn a good profit if
only she and the tenants worked hard.

 

 

The cold dry weather continued, so that Lochlainn felt it was about
time to make a start cutting the trees. He supervised the men for
the first few hours, and then got out his carpentry tools, which he
had only recently ever used for carving his own furniture.

 

 

He began to prepare chairs, tables and sideboards for commercial
sale, sketching out a few basic designs on paper before getting
started. He discovered how much he enjoyed working with his hands
again, though the occasional splinter reminded him of some of the
less delightful aspects of being a carpenter.

 

 

At one point he took a rest from his woodworking, and went to see
Muireann, who was in the library loading up the last of the books to
be sold at the market.

 

 

"Here's the family Bible," she said, dusting off a huge black
leather-bound tome. "I'll keep that, but the rest of these can all
go. I certainly hope they fetch a good price."

 

 

She laid the Bible on the desk, and wondered why he was so silent.

 

 

"What's the matter? Has something happened?"

 

 

He shook his head, and looked uncomfortable.

 

 

"Go on, Lochlainn, tell me what's troubling you. We agreed we
wouldn't keep anything from each other."

 

 

Lochlainn stretched out his hand to offer her a small bag of money,
and declared, "This is all I have in the world. I'm only sorry it
isn't more. But it's all yours. Tell Pat and Siobhan to buy a couple
of good cows with it at market in Sligo tomorrow, and your milk run
will be a reality."

 

 

Muireann hesitated, but she knew she had no choice. They needed
money desperately. Lochlainn was showing his faith in her by giving
him all he had. She couldn't turn down this gesture of good will,
much as she would have liked to.

 

 

 "Thank you." Muireann smiled up at him, her heart soaring at
his faith in her. "You don't know what this means to me. You'll get
it all back, I promise, with interest."

 

 

"I will indeed, if you can make this place a success." Lochlainn
grinned, and waved as he left the room before the atmosphere between
them grew too serious.

 

 

 

 

 

The men had a very successful day hunting, awing Muireann with the
amount of food they brought back.

 

 

Towards the evening, when the cart returned to Barnakilla laden down
with poultry cages, Muireann took a drive into town and begun
consulting the shopkeepers. She also knocked on a few doors, asking
people if they would be willing to buy milk and eggs from her.

 

 

Many of the people were quite mistrustful of the young newcomer to
start with, but her pleas for them to at least give her a chance
were in the end persuasive enough for several to put their names
down for milk and eggs in a week's time.

 

 

As for the butcher, Mr. Simmons, and the grocer, Mr. Parks, they
agreed to take her pies, bread, eggs and butter in lieu of cash for
what she already owed them, starting at the end of the month. They
were also willing to take her fish and game, both fresh and smoked.

 

 

Muireann made a tough decision then, and decided to fatten up the
pigs and geese for slaughter, but not to give to Mr. Simmons. She
would sell the sausages and bacon and dressed fowl at the market,
along with the books, and old clothes and furniture.

 

 

With the money she got from those items, she would buy more flour,
salt, and other items necessary for the businesses, and try to earn
a decent profit.

 

 

At least there was plenty of turf on the estate, and wood. With the
men and even some of the women cutting timber full-time, and her
taking three-quarters of their turf supply to town for the promised
deliveries, her tiny purse would begin to swell again.

 

 

"But it still won't be enough," she complained to Lochlainn with a
sigh as she ate her stirabout that evening.

 

 

"We can double the fishing detail. Even the old people can do that,
and we should always make sure we have plenty of fish on Friday. We
missed our chance today at the market, though since Donegal is on
the sea there wouldn't have been much point. But we could sell it in
town ourselves, in a small barrow."

 

 

"That's an excellent suggestion." Muireann made a mental note to
herself to take care of it the following week. "How soon can we
start the turf cutting, do you think?"

 

 

"As soon as the ground starts to thaw out a bit. But I'm pretty sure
we have enough to keep us going for a time, and there are always the
trees."

 

 

"I know, but as hard as everyone is going to have to work at the
minute, we still haven't got all we need to meet the demand. We also
have to get ready for the timber order I promised my brother-in-law
Neil."

 

 

"What do you suggest?"

 

 

"We work a longer day, with everyone pitching in on all the
different tasks. If we have enough rabbit snares, the men can empty
them first thing in the morning, and hunt in the late afteroon
rather than spend all day at it."

 

 

Lochlainn nodded. "That shouldn't be too difficult. I think they
will agree. I'll speak to them in a minute after we've all finished
eating."

 

 

"We're also going to have to allocate a certain portion of food to
everyone. At the moment I calculate we have enough potatoes,
vegetables and oats to keep up going for a month if we're careful.
There will be meat from the hunting, and some fish to stretch it
all. The meals will be dull, but at least we'll have something every
day."

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