Call Home the Heart (30 page)

 

"And just where the hell have you been all day?" he snapped, as she
threw off her cloak and went over to warm herself before the fire.

 

 

"I told you, I had some deals to make. I went to see Colonel Lowry
and Malcolm Stephens. Why, did something happen while I was gone?"

 

 

"Damn it, Muireann, you swore to me that you wouldn't sell the
pasture to Stephens!"

 

 

Of course he couldn't tell her that his own insecurities made him
fearful that she would be seduced into longing for the wealthy
lifestyle she had sacrificed once she went visiting around the
neighborhood and witnessed first hand the luxury of the Grange or
Castle Lowry.

 

 

Muireann smiled, infuriating Lochlainn still further.

 

 

Why does she always have to be in such complete control? he wondered
resentfully.

 

 

"I didn't sell our pasture. I bought his," she announced proudly.
"His and the colonel's, and their forests on the southern end of
their estates as well."

 

 

Lochlainn's mouth dropped open. "You did what?"

 

 

"I told you, I've bought more land, to be paid for out of my share
of Malcolm Stephens' trade profits over the next few years. And the
colonel has agreed to wait for his payment until we get more money
from Mr. Blessington's estate, which he assures me will be soon."

 

 

"But how the hell are we going to plant and fertilize the fields?"

 

 

"We'll put in more turnips, beets and carrots, and we'll use manure
and seaweed."

 

 

"Seaweed?"

 

 

"It's what we always used in Scotland."

 

 

Lochlainn threw himself down in a chair and looked at her
thoughtfully for a few moments before declaring, "I'll tell you what
we also use around here. Sea sticks. You dry them out and burn them,
and use the ashes for fertilizer. Also fish bones, ground up fine,
depending upon the type of soil you have."

 

 

Muireann said excitedly, "It sounds good to me. We can use the sea
sticks for fuel for heating things, and then rake up the ashy
residue carefully to put on the fields."

 

 

 "If you give me a couple of days to supervise the new timber
cutting, we could go to the beach in Donegal and get ourselves a
load."

 

 

"What, go on another little excursion?" Her delight was evident from
her expression.

 

 

"You've been working so hard, you deserve it. I must say, I quite
fancy a trip to the beach. There is a lovely sandy one at
Rossnowlagh. We would have to stay overnight, and camp out in the
dunes."

 

 

He grinned lazily, already looking forward to having several days
alone with Muireann.

 

 

But Muireann shook her head. "I don't know. Perhaps one of us should
stay behind if it will take that long."

 

 

Lochlainn protested, "You just said this afternoon that you would
start trusting everyone to run the place in your absence. Isn't it
about time you started delegating responsibility? You can't keep on
like this forever, you know. Besides, your birthday is coming up
soon. Don't you think you deserve a little treat?"

 

 

Muireann weighed the pros and cons in her head, and at last agreed,
"All right, I'll go. We can head up on Wednesday, return on Friday,
and combine it with a trip to the Donegal market, can't we?"

 

 

"Clever woman, that's exactly what I was thinking. We'll get the
first cart loaded, and get the other two to come up on Friday for
market, load them, and come back home on Saturday or Sunday."

 

 

Muireann turned back to her papers to make some new calculations
concerning the bargains she had just struck with Malcolm Stephens
and Colonel Lowry.

 

 

She tried to focus her eyes on the column of figures, but Lochlainn
was a distracting presence. He certainly was in a strange mood, and
seemed to fill the room, overwhelming her senses.

 

 

Suddenly he reached out to stroke her cheek tenderly. "Muireann, I'm
sorry if I was angry with you before. I know you're only trying to
do what's best for everyone. Augustine always warned me never to
trust a word that Malcolm Stephens said, but if you liked him. . ."

 

 

"And his wife and little boys. I thought they were lovely people,
very genuine," Muireann said, giving her honest assessment.

 

 

"I have no idea what could have provoked the fight between them so
many years ago. Since I trust your judgment implicitly, I shall have
to work with the man from now on, and I'm sorry if I doubted you."

 

 

"He certainly seems to think very highly of you as an estate agent,
from what he said. So your apology is accepted. I understand your
frustration. I suppose it all gets to us in the end, this feeling
of, well, confusion. Of powerlessness at times."

 

 

"You? Confused? Powerless? You seem to have all the power you need
at your fingertips," Lochlainn said, astonished.

 

 

"I wish I did sometimes. But I must admit to you, Lochlainn, I'm
tired of all these deals, of living by my wits, struggling for every
penny, trying to pay the mortgage, and feed everyone. Sometimes I
would just like things to be on a even keel for us all."

 

 

"Our situation is bound to improve, you'll see. It's been a long
three months, but things will get better, I promise. You've already
done so much. You can't afford to let yourself get despondent now,"
he said, kissing her on the cheek.

 

 

Inwardly he worried about her. She did indeed look absolutely
exhausted. He might have even wondered if she were expecting had she
not been so pale. Moreover, she had complained to him shyly of
monthly cramps only a few days before, and he had advised her then
to rest.

 

 

Muireann looked down at her ledger again. "They'll really improve no
end if I can tally up these sums," she sighed, desperately trying to
concentrate.

 

 

But she could smell Lochlainn's clean, sharp, woodsy fragrance, and
couldn't seem to take her eyes off his long lean hands.

 

 

"Are you going to be much longer poring over those papers?"
Lochlainn asked abruptly.

 

 

Muireann looked at him. "No, why?"

 

 

He reached over and snuffed out the candles. Taking her by the hand,
he led her into her bedroom, and began to make love to her with a
slow, leisured thoroughness which took Muireann's breath away.

 

 

"Wouldn't it be lovely if it could be like this all the time," she
murmured, before drifting off to sleep contentedly.

 

 

In truth, Lochlainn had been thinking the same thing himself. But
with so much to do all day, every day, there just never seemed to be
enough time for the two of them to be alone with each other, to
laugh and love. He had never shared a relationship like that with
Tara. He had desired her, surely, but every moment he spent with
Muireann left him aching for more.

 

 

But he couldn't reproach Muireann, demand more of her time. For one
thing, their feelings for each other were something they never dared
talk about. For another, he certainly couldn't complain when she had
willingly chosen to help all those poor unfortunates from Colonel
Lowry's and Mr. Cole's estates.

 

 

If they never had enough time together, it was because Muireann had
shouldered so many responsibilities. As her estate manager, he had
to take on those burdens as well. They were his own people after
all, weren't they?

 

 

They certainly weren't Muireann's. Perhaps they would be one day,
but he still couldn't help thinking of her as the beautiful young
girl in the incredibly elegant gown he had first met in Dublin all
those months before.

 

 

He was terrified she would go back home to Fintry. But to reveal his
fears would be impossible. She would only laugh at him for having
dared presume to fall in love with her. He could only try to make
Muireann happy, support her, and pray she would decide to stay.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

Several mornings later, Muireann rolled over in the bed sleepily,
feeling a warm presence beside her. A smile curled her lips, and she
cuddled up against the warm body. It was only when it stuck its
fluffy wet muzzle in her face to kiss her that she opened her eyes
and sat bolt upright.

 

 

Lochlainn laughed heartily at her stunned face as she exclaimed,
"What is it?"

 

 

"It's a puppy, you silly woman. Surely they have dogs in Scotland,"
he teased.

 

 

Muireann reached out a tentative hand to stroke the auburn and black
creature, which had the longest legs she had ever seen, and a fine
coat which only waved slightly between its two tiny, high-set ears.

 

 

"No, Lochlainn, I mean what breed is it?" she giggled. "It looks a
bit like an Airedale terrier, but the coat is wrong."

 

 

"It's an Irish terrier, in fact. You're right, they're similar to
Airedales, but his black bits will disappear from his back and beard
when he's older, and his whole coat will become the same auburn
color, and stay straight, instead of becoming wiry," Lochlainn
explained, stroking the affectionate creature as it snuggled up
between the two of them.

 

 

"He's so beautiful, and so playful," she marveled as the pup played
with her fingers like a kitten. "But why is he here? Where did he
come from?"

 

 

"Colonel Lowry's bitch whelped shortly before you arrived. When you
mentioned the rat and mouse problem, I thought one of the puppies
would be perfect for you. Irish terriers are terribly loyal, and you
can even train them as gun dogs. They have very soft mouths, and are
very gentle, medium-sized dogs. They're also wonderfully sociable
and love children, so there's no worry about him being unruly around
the farm."

 

 

"What about the livestock?"

 

 

"You'll probably find he'll follow you everywhere, but as I said,
with the right training, he won't bother to chase sheep."

 

 

"So he's mine?" she asked with astonished delight.

 

 

Lochlainn grinned. "I know it's early, Muireann, but Happy Birthday.
He's only just weaned, so I want him to become part of our little
family straight away. Do you really like him?"

 

 

"He's gorgeous. Thank you," she said, kissing him warmly on the
lips, and getting another fond lick from the puppy.

 

 

She giggled again and asked, "What should I name him?"

 

 

Lochlainn thought about it for a moment, and then replied, "Well,
there is a famous Irish terrier in The Book of Leinster called
Tadhg. You could try that for a name."

 

 

"How do you spell it?" Muireann asked.

 

 

"T -A- D- H- G," Lochlainn told her. "It was a name given to the
poets and storytellers in Ireland centuries ago."

 

 

"Tay-g," she intoned, experimenting with the name. "I like it. It
suits him."

 

 

The pup friskily romped on the bed and she observed, "Look at him.
He prances like a racehorse."

 

 

"It's in the breed to do that. They can be very proud and haughty
with other dogs, and are completely game for anything."

 

 

"You seem to know a lot about them. Did you ever have one yourself?"

 

 

"No. I must admit I always wanted one, but my aunt who raised us
never let us have dogs. Working so much, I never really had time to
train one. Christopher Caldwell always had a pack of them though,
which is how I know of them. Unfortunately, his were allowed to run
rather wild. You have to be firm with this little chap," he warned.

 

 

"You'll just have to help me train him. I've never really had a dog
of my very own either."

 

 

"I'll do my best to give you advice, but I think you'll do fine.
Happy Birthday, Muireann, even if it is a bit early."

 

 

He bent to kiss her, and the dog jumped up and licked him on the
chin as well.

 

 

"Thank you, Lochlainn. He's just what I needed to cheer me up."

 

 

"I hope you're not sad, Muireann," he said worriedly.

 

 

"Not really. I'm just taking stock of my life, I suppose. I'll be
twenty-two soon."

 

 

"And I'll be thirty-seven at the end of the year. Where does the
time go? I'm nearly old enough to be your father," he sighed.

 

 

"You would have had to have been a very precocious adolescent." She
grinned cheekily, before lying back down with the pup, looking more
weary than he had ever seen her.

 

 

"I'm sorry we woke you early, but I couldn't wait to see your face.
I'll leave you and Tadhg to have a little nap, shall I?"

 

 

"No, not at all. I'll just have a small stretch for a second, and
get dressed. There's plenty to do today if we're going to Donegal
for the seaweed tomorrow."

 

 

Suddenly he thumped his forehead with the palm of one hand. "I
nearly forgot. I've got one more birthday surprise for you."

 

 

Lochlainn came back a few minutes later with a steaming cup of
coffee.

 

 

Thrilled, she asked, "Oh, Lochlainn, wherever did you get it?"

 

 

"I bought a second pack out of the items you sold back in February,
to save for your birthday. I know you were careful, but ran out the
other day, so you might as well have this now."