Call Home the Heart (22 page)

 

 

"Well, playing hide-and-seek won't get the work done. Lochlainn,
muster all the men to get the animals off and into the stables. Then
we can prepare to load the timber."

 

 

She turned to Michael. "How long can you stay?"

 

 

"We'll have to go by the end of the day, I'm afraid. This is one of
Philip Buchanan's ships. Neil could only get hold of it because his
brother left him in charge while he's away in Canada.

 

 

"We would have come sooner, only the ship's been busy bringing
supplies to the Western Isles. We have to get back for another
regular run. Neil says to let him know what else you need, and it
will be sent when we pick up the next load of timber."

 

 

"Here are all the ledgers for the cargo, and the sums from the
shares. And this is the money left over," he said as he handed her a
small leather pouch. "Neil also says you're to keep track of the
timber in this book, so that everything is decent and above board."

 

 

Muireann flipped the books open and consulted Lochlainn about them
for a moment.

 

 

"It all looks very impressive," Lochlainn said, unable to take his
eyes off the splendid livestock coming down the gangplank.

 

 

Muireann's stallion Bran was jet black, and easily the largest horse
Lochlainn had ever seen in his thirty-six years. The mare, Misty,
was remarkably similar, and it didn't surprise Lochlainn to discover
that they were both one-half Arabian. Then there were the ordinary
dray horses, all very heavily muscled and extremely well built, with
glossy coats which bespoke lavish care.

 

 

The cows were mainly Friesians, but there were also a pair of
Simmentals and two Charolais.

 

 

The sheep were all Leicesters or Cheviots, and there was even a pair
of goats and a large Berkshire boar and sow.

 

 

As for the poultry, they were also of the highest quality. Lochlainn
was certain the estate would double its egg production in no time.

 

 

"Can you supervise the livestock getting good homes, while I take
care of the timber?" Muireann requested of Lochlainn.

 

 

"Aye. Patrick, you help Mrs. Caldwell with the timber over here. I'm
going up to the stables."

 

 

Lochlainn tried not to feel as though he were being left out, but
all the same, he was worried. What if Michael tried to persuade
Muireann to go back with him to Scotland, and leave things in the
hands of her estate agent? He felt his chest constrict so tightly
that he could barely breathe.

 

 

He knew it was wrong, but he simply couldn't help himself. He and
Muireann had worked side by side night and day ever since they had
met in Dublin. The more he got to know her, the more he knew he
desired her. Even the slightest touch of her hand, or glance from
her incredible amethyst eyes, was enough to fill him with the most
aching passion.

 

 

He had long ago ceased to think about Tara except as an unpleasant
reminder of how fickle women were generally. He knew Muireann might
prove to be the same. But for the moment he could find no flaws in
her, and the attraction between them was growing by leaps and
bounds.

 

 

 

 

 

Once all the animals were safely penned, Lochlainn went down to the
dock to help supervise the rest of the timber loading.

 

 

He came up behind Muireann and put his arm around her.

 

 

"Why don't you go up to the house to get warm?"

 

 

Muireann smiled up at him, and took comfort from his large form
beside her. She breathed in the musky male scent of him, and felt
herself go weak in the knees. An uncontrollable wave of desire
surged through her as she had a sudden recollection of their kiss in
the bed in Virginia Town that fateful morning when she had just
buried Augustine and vowed to start a whole new life for herself.

 

 

Here she was, a little over a month later, and this enigmatic man
had been at her side every step of the way, arguing, true, but also
supporting and encouraging. Backing up her every idea even when she
could tell he believed her to be wrong.

 

 

Part of her longed for the old comforts of Fintry, the beauties of
her childhood home. The other half told her that though it had been
a difficult path so far, she was on the right road. With Lochlainn
by her side, how could she fail?

 

 

But there was more to life than hard work, wasn't there? There
should be time for love, too. Muireann stiffened slightly as that
word suddenly soared into her mind.

 

 

She examined it carefully in the context of her relationship with
Lochlainn, and thought perhaps it was not so strange a word to use
after all. What did marriage mean for her? Her ideal was a meeting
of equals, a partnership, a special closeness and comfort shared
with the beloved.

 

 

She had seen enough failed marriages, experienced one for herself
briefly and horribly, to know she wanted something different from
what her parents and Alice and Neil seemed to share. Alice had taken
great delight in warning Muireann about the terrible things one was
required to do in the marriage bed. Muireann shuddered again
briefly, causing Lochlainn to tighten his arm around her and offer
her his jacket.

 

 

"No, really, I'm fine. It was just someone walking over my grave,"
she said quickly.

 

 

She tried to distract herself by moving forward to help with a
particularly stubborn log, which suddenly swung into her arm with a
crunching blow. She grabbed it and cried out in pain. Lochlainn came
running.

 

 

 "Here, let me see!" he commanded, taking her hand and gently
baring her arm to the elbow. "Well, you'll certainly have a good
bruise there, but I don't think it's broken."

 

 

"I'll be fine. I don't bruise easily," Muireann remarked
unthinkingly.

 

 

Lochlainn frowned at the remark, puzzled. When he had first met
her...

 

 

But Muireann colored furiously at her slip up, and stalked away
towards the house. "Come up for something hot to eat and drink as
soon as you're all finished here, Michael," she said over her
shoulder. "You and the whole crew."

 

 

"We'll be up in a minute," Michael called after her.

 

 

"Patrick will watch the boat just to make sure it doesn't sail away
without you."

 

 

Lochlainn could see the strain in her expression. Something odd was
going on. Was she homesick? Or just exhausted? Or in a delicate
state?

 

 

At that thought he frowned, and hurried after her.

 

 

Worried that Muireann was overdoing things again, he determined she
would get another good night's sleep at least, and made plans to
smuggle the sleeping powder into a cup of coffee later in the
evening. Bringing it to her in the study would give him a good
excuse to be alone with her too, he thought with another surging
pang of desire.

 

 

That evening, the
Andromeda
crew and the Barnakilla workers
all crammed into the benches together, chatting amiably. They ate
their fill of the hearty stew with suet dumplings which was put
before them.

 

 

Once they had finished their meal, Michael asked for a small tour of
the house and estate. At the end of it, when they had returned once
more to the warmth of the kitchen, he admitted, "You certainly do
have your work cut out for you, cousin. At the same time, I know you
can't resist a challenge. You probably love every minute of this,
even the scrubbing, cleaning, and living as though you're camping
out under the stars."

 

 

"It's certainly not been fun." Muireann shook her head. "But now,
with all these things you've brought me, and Neil's help, I think
I'm beginning to see some glimmer of hope. My only worry is the sum
owing to the bank, which is huge. But they've agreed not to do
anything until after the court case against the old accountant and
lawyer. All the same, things will still be pretty tight if my
businesses don't thrive."

 

 

"Neil says he'll take as much timber as you can give him, and I'm
sure Philip will have no objections to a couple of trips each month.
We'll get to see each other pretty often."

 

 

"You mean so you can all keep an eye on me," Muireann accused a
trifle angrily.

 

 

"No, of course not," he said indignantly.  "I know you well
enough to know you'll be fine. For what it's worth, I think you have
a good man in Lochlainn. I like him very much."

 

 

"I'm glad. He is a good man," Muireann replied warmly. "Give my love
to your parents and brothers, and Neil and my parents too, of
course. Anything you can do to dissuade mother and father from
coming over will be greatly appreciated."

 

 

"I understand, Muireann. Never fear, I shall present everything in
the most glowing terms possible."

 

 

"Not too glowing, I hope," she said with a warning look. "If I do
have to sell this place because the bank forecloses they will
definitely find out what a bunch of liars you, myself and Neil
really are."

 

 

"You won't fail. I'll bet you anything you like."

 

 

"I haven't any money, and I don't gamble," she said sharply.

 

 

"I'll bet you a kiss, then," Michael joked.

 

 

"You can have one of those without having to make a bet," Muireann
laughed, and kissed her cousin on the cheek.

 

 

"Take care of yourself."

 

 

"Aye, and you."

 

 

She walked him down to the dock, and watched the boat as it cast
off. Wondering why she felt so alone, she waved as the
Andromeda
rowed away, then became a mere speck on the horizon before vanishing
altogether in the glimmering twilight.

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

Lochlainn found Muireann in the study about an hour later. He sat
down in front of the desk, but she never looked up from her column
of figures.

 

 

"Are you all right, Muireann?" Lochlainn asked softly.

 

 

"Yes, of course. Why shouldn't I be?"

 

 

His gray eyes rested upon her intently. "You look bit sad, that's
all."

 

 

"There is no reason to be, is there? With all the livestock and
other items Michael has brought, things couldn't be better," she
said in an optimistic tone.

 

 

"Well, with the court case still pending, and the problem with the
mortgage repayments, I thought you might be getting a bit
despondent."

 

 

She shook her head.

 

 

But Lochlainn saw her pinched white face and the dark circles under
her eyes. "Did you manage to sleep well last night?"

 

 

"I've been sleeping just fine," she lied.

 

 

Lochlainn knew for certain she was fibbing. From his vantage point
in the room next to her own, he had heard her whimpering on and off
all night.  Why was she behaving so oddly? Was her
sleeplessness and dullness over the past few days symptomatic of
grief, or was something else weighing on her mind?

 

 

He went into the kitchen and brought her back a cup of coffee, which
he had laced with the sleeping mixture. Soon she was nodding off,
and Lochlainn carried her up to bed. Loosening her dress, he tucked
her in. He kissed her on the lips lingeringly, but berated himself
for taking advantage of her. She would no doubt be horrified if she
knew what he was thinking as he touched her . . .

 

 

Again that night he heard her moan and cry. Holding his head in his
hands, he forced himself not to go in to see her. To get into bed
with her again would be completely wrong. She trusted him. He simply
couldn't break that trust.

 

 

He went into the room and spoke to her quietly from the doorway, not
daring to move closer for fear of touching her, loving her. . . At
last she settled down, but for Lochlainn, wracked by desire, sleep
was a long time coming.

 

 

 

 

 

The next day was relatively uneventful, except that Muireann's
payments for all her various enterprises came in when Patrick
returned from town. She immediately paid off the rest of her debts
to the creditors in town, wiping every slate clean, and then made
further bargains for her produce and timber.

 

 

When Lochlainn saw her that night, she looked more contented than he
had seen her for a while, but she was so weary her eyes were black
with shadows. He knew she got up at five or six every day. Even with
the sleeping powder, she wasn't getting very much rest.

 

 

"Come now, my dear, you're absolutely done in," he said, taking her
hand and leading her away from the shed where she had been helping
with the milking. "I've got some sleeping powder for you. I want you
to take it and get a good night's sleep. "

 

 

Muireann's eyes widened in alarm. "No, really, I mustn't!"

 

 

"Muireann, this is ridiculous. You'll be no good to any of us if you
collapse. Now please, for me, take the draught."

 

 

Muireann still looked disturbed, but in the end she obeyed his
command and swallowed it in one gulp.

 

 

"Good girl," Lochlainn said, kissing her on the forehead.

 

 

Muireann put her arms around him briefly. She didn't dare admit how
terrified she was of her nightmares. It would sound so silly, and
she would have to admit the truth, which she wasn't even prepared to
acknowledge to herself.