Call Home the Heart

by Shannon Farrell

  "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."

  "Don't look so worried," he said, putting his arm around her. "That's more than most of these people are used to at the best of times. It'll be all right."

  "I'd better get back to the baking." She sighed. "We'll have to have everything ready for the market run tomorrow for Patrick and Siobhan."

  Lochlainn said impulsively, "Why don't we go ourselves?"

  "What? You and I go to Sligo?" Muireann asked, surprised.

  "Well, it would be a wonderful opportunity to let you get to see a bit of the countryside, and we could make a day of it. We could fit Patrick on the box with us. He could help drive the cattle back that we managed to buy. And you could see the sea. We could even stop at one or two lovely places I know on the way."

  "Well, if you think I could..."

  "It will be fun. Let's go, please? You've made enough of a start there already. There's only so much you can do until we get more money."

  "All right. But we'll have to set out early, won't we?"

  He nodded. "I'll wake you at four. We should be there by about mid-morning if we make good time, and the cart isn't too heavy. We can still sell all our wares at the market, and we can be back before midnight even if it does take us longer than we expect to sell everything,"

  "We should try to sell some of the extra tools as well, you know."

  "I'll take care of it. You finish up baking here, and get to bed. I'll see you early in the morning."

  He patted her on the shoulder, and went out to the stable block to make arrangements for the morning. He gathered up what he considered to be all the spare tools from the outhouse, and issued instructions to Conn and Kevin about the tree cutting.

  Then he headed off to his cottage, where he put out his warmest clothes ready for the morning, and got a few hours of much-needed sleep, his slumbers filled with nothing but the woman who had come into his life like a whirlwind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  True to his word, Lochlainn tapped on her door at half past three, and had some porridge ready and waiting for her in a bowl when she came downstairs sleepily.

  "I hope you've dressed warmly enough under that gown. It's fairly mild for the time of the year, but it will still be a pretty cold journey."

  "I'll be fine, thanks. I've wrapped up well. So long as it is dry, we'll have a lovely time," Muireann said cheerfully.

  Muireann was sandwiched between Lochlainn and Patrick up on the box of the cart, but at least she was warm and cozy under all the travelling rugs. Lochlainn drove the cart for part of the time, but as they went on, he gave Patrick the reins and began to point out the beauty spots of the area.

  At the town of Blacklion were two lovely loughs, Upper and Lower Macnean, long and narrow, with a beautiful forest on the western side. Then they passed through the attractive traditional town of Manorhamilton with its Georgian buildings, and there they stopped for a rest.

  While Patrick went to the local stables with the cart to change the horses, Lochlainn took Muireann into a small restaurant for a hot cup of tea. "We can visit a local beauty spot, Newtown Castle, and if you're willing to take a small walk down a hill and up again, I can show you the Glencar waterfall on the way to Sligo."

  "It certainly sounds lovely. But then all of the countryside has been exquisite so far," Muireann praised as she warmed her hands around her cup. "The loughs were marvelous. In fact, a lot of the country is like Scotland, only more green."

  "You like it, then?"

  "Yes, of course," Muireann said, surprised that Lochlainn should even wonder. "It's magnificent, all of it. I can't imagine you ever having wanted to leave."

  Lochlainn colored to the roots of his hair, and looked down into his cup.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Muireann apologized hastily when she saw his moody look return.

  "I suppose you're bound to find out sooner or later, so I might as well tell you now to get out of the way. Then we never have to discuss it again. My fiancée Tara left me for another man. Plus, the old man, Douglas Caldwell, was dying. I couldn't see any future for myself with Augustine running things. He had never really liked me as the estate manager, you see. Nor did his mother. She was always trying to let on to everyone that I was lining my own pockets from the Barnakilla estate. Well, if that had been the case, I certainly never would have taken the trouble to come back here, now would I?" he remarked bitterly.

  Muireann took his hand across the table, oblivious to the stares directed at them in the tearoom. She tried to swallow the unease over his mention of his failed engagement.

  "You don't have to defend yourself to me. I've already told you, I trust you, Lochlainn. Implicitly. I don't believe you would ever have cheated the Caldwells. Every time you speak of old Douglas Caldwell, you actually sound quite fond of him. It would have been a point of pride with you to run the estate the best you could."

  "I imagine you're right. Not that pride ever got me anywhere," Lochlainn said sourly as he clinked a few coins down on the table. "You'll forgive my saying this, Muireann, but your husband was useless at running the estate. He only ever thought about his own gratification, never about his responsibilities. I know it isn't his fault. His mother and father spoilt him completely. But if I had been in charge, none of this would have ever happened."

  Muireann rose also and followed him out the door, where a chill wind was blowing down the wide street. She grasped his arm and tugged him around to face her before he could go too far ahead.

  "And if it hadn't happened, I would never have come here, now would I, Lochlainn. Are you saying you wish I had never come?" she challenged, surprised at her own bold behavior.

  Lochlainn
stooped and kissed her then, full on the lips, in front of everyone passing down the street, including Patrick, who grinned and drove the cart a bit further on down the road to wait for them.

  Hearing a few shocked remarks, he lifted his lips at last. "No, I'm not saying that. Though it's selfish of me to even be glad that you're here in the midst of such awful circumstances."

  "Then don't complain about the past. It can't be changed. For the moment, why don't we just try to enjoy our trip to market? Now come, we've been here long enough. Sligo beckons," she urged, tugging him by the arm, and smiling up at him tenderly, her amethyst eyes sparkling.