Call Home the Heart

by Shannon Farrell

  Lochlainn sighed. He wanted to declare his undying love for her. But his pride had been stung, and he was still trying to do the noble thing by renouncing her.

  "I think you're right, we've been careless and foolish. I really can't see five years down the road for either of us. Perhaps it's better to part now before anyone else gets hurt. I can see now too that you can never trust me again since Ciara told you about our father."

  He turned to go to his room.

  Muireann ran after him and spun him around to face her. "That isn't it!" she cried, trying to take his hand. She longed to tell him how much she loved him, but how could she when he had just declared he saw no future for them together?

  "I need to be honest with you too, but there are some things I simply can't tell you, at least not now. But you seem so willing to give up on us that I wonder if there's any point in trying to keep Barnakilla, or even trying to stay here, when it seems as though you've never cared for me."

  Lochlainn reached out to stroke her cheek, and hugged her close. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you. I didn't mean to. I wanted to comfort and look after you. I lied to you, I know. I should never have brought you to this crumbling ruin.

  "I hope you aren't telling me that you only stayed because of me. I know that's a lie. You've worked harder than any man or woman on this estate. But I can't just sit by and let you waste the best days of your youth to slave away in endless labor for very little thanks or return. If Christopher wins, it's all my fault for having allowed us both to live in a fool's paradise. If he loses, I think you should sell."

  "If that happens, you will come with me, won't you Lochlainn, you and Ciara?" Muireann pleaded softly.

  He stood back from her and sighed. "If I had any wealth of my own, I would lavish you with every attention, presents beyond your wildest dreams. As it is, I have nothing to offer you except myself, and that isn't good enough. All I have are the clothes I stand up in, and the labor of my two hands."

  "It would be enough for me if I were sure you loved me," Muireann said tearfully, grasping one hand and bringing it to her cheek.

  "I could be sure I loved you if I could be sure I would be enough for you," Lochlainn admitted. "But I'm too frightened of losing you to let myself love you."

  At her surprised look, he pressed on, "Oh, I know you care for me now. But how can I be sure that it won't all turn to hate in two or three years? Or even two or three months. You'd only be disappointed in me. I'd only hold you back. I should have let you go back in August, when you came home from Dublin so unhappy. I don't blame you for missing the big city, but-"

  Muireann began to laugh bitterly, and shook her head. "No, Lochlainn, you're so wrong!"

  "What was it, then?" he demanded, gripping one of her hands. "Why did you shut me out, shun me as you're doing now? Were you afraid of having a baby? You've never really been the same since you got back. You accuse me of lying, of keeping thing from you, but haven't you done exactly the same thing to me from the moment we met?"

  Muireann tried to avoid his blazing gray gaze, but he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. Amethyst mingled intimately with steel as he declared, "If you're so insistent upon the truth, why don't you tell me everything? Everything about you and Augustine, your marriage, about how he died? About Dublin, and about anything else you might have neglected to tell me."

  Muireann's eyes widened in panic, and she broke away and went over to the fire to warm herself. She rubbed her arms vigorously as though trying to scrub them clean, and raised one shaking hand to her temple. "I need time to think. Some secrets aren't mine to tell."

  "What are you afraid of? Are you in some sort of danger?" he asked, suddenly anxious.

  Muireann sighed. "No, not really. I just don't know how you would even begin to react. And with all that's been going on, perhaps this isn't the time to dredge up the past."

  "But you do admit you've lied to me, don't you?" he insisted, folding his arms across his chest and leaning on the door frame.

  It was clear he had no intention of letting her out of the house until he got at least some of the truth from her.

  She took a deep breath, and admitted at last, "All right! Yes, I have! I've lied by omission! But don't you see, it was personal, just as your never telling me about your love for Tara was."

  His lip curled slightly. "All right, if you want to talk about that now, we will. You might not like the crude details, but-"

  She shook her head, her stomach heaving. "No, Lochlainn, that's not what I meant, and now is not the time even if it were. We can talk again when we've both calmed down and had time to think, but for now, I really must go. The baby is coming, and Brona's asked for me. She's been a good friend. I can't let her down after all she's done for me."

  "Damn it, Muireann, I need you too!" He moved forward to embrace her.

  Muireann stepped around the table hastily before he could grasp her around the waist. "Not now, please. I must go! I need time to think. We'll talk again soon, I promise, just not now!"

  He could see that she was nearly at her wits' end, and raised his hands over his shoulders in a gesture of surrender as she scurried for the door and her freedom. "All right, I promise not to touch you, not to goad you. You know where to find me when you need me. I'll be in the carpentry workshop. And I shall sleep in one of the lofts there for the next few days if you're going to stay to look after Ciara."

  He went into his room to gather some fresh linens, then slammed out of the door, leaving Muireann alone with her confused thoughts.

  She sat gazing into the fire for a few minutes, before pulling herself together to go to the confinement.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Muireann was up all night at the confinement, but glad to help Brona. The birth also helped keep her mind off things. She knew if she had remained in her little room, or at Lochlainn's cottage, she would only have tossed and turned all night trying to work out how to tell Lochlainn everything she had been keeping from him from the moment they had met. She loved him. The last thing she wanted was his pity, or disgust.

  Just as the sun was coming up, the new baby was at last born. Muireann held the boy in her arms, and wondered what it would be like to have a child of her own.

  She had been so busy worrying about things on the estate, she had never really had a chance to think about what form her future with Lochlainn could possibly take.

  Marriage? Children? The more she thought about them, the more she knew they were the only things she really wanted. Barnakilla, her new family, the tenants, they all gave and took.

  But what of love? All she had achieved meant nothing without Lochlainn by her side. She loved him body and soul. Why shouldn't they marry and be happy?

  Once the court case was over, they could settle things between them, couldn't they?

  But her life was such a tangle at the moment, it was best to just leave everything alone for now. She couldn't tell him how she felt without risking going back to an intimate relationship with him, and she had promised Ciara she would wait.

  The woman's fears that the family were tainted seemed like something straight out of a Gothic horror novel, but Muireann could not dismiss her worries lightly. She knew illnesses ran in families. The question was, which family? The Caldwells, or Augustine's or Christopher's mothers' families? Not to mention those of the other men who had been involved….

  Murieann shivered, and tried to rid herself of the image of what Ciara had had to endure. Christopher certainly had to be a monster to have allowed that to happen to anyone he had been so intimate with. Even if he had never loved Ciara, he should never have actively encouraged others to harm her. Let alone abandoned her when she was with child.

  She looked at Brona's babe, and sighed. She had been lucky. The child was sound. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a lusty appetite and cry. Not all were so fortunate.

  Brona was also lucky to have a good man by her side, one who neither drank nor gambled, and who never ev
en raised his voice to her, let alone a hand or fist.

  Muireann shivered again as the images of her own short but horrific marriage rose up unbidden. But that was all over, thank God. She had Lochlainn now, she reminded herself quickly. He might raise his voice, but he would never wish her harm.

  Even if their personal relationship ever ended, she was sure they had enough common interests to share an enduring friendship. Though how she would ever be able to suppress her passion for him forever, she had no idea…

  She recalled her promise to Ciara again, not only about avoiding the risk of pregnancy, but also about not telling Lochlainn about Christopher.

  She wasn't sure how she could keep both promises. He knew something was amiss between them already, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before she caved in to her longings.

  But a deformed child—well, it was a risk she might be willing to take, but he needed to be told of the danger. Naturally he was going to ask where on earth her concerns might have arisen from. Which meant telling him the truth about his sister's rape.

  Augustine was dead, and beyond Lochlainn's revenge. But what of the other guilty men? Including the one right on her own doorstep?

  If she knew Lochlainn, he would not rest until his sister's honor was avenged. Christopher was a living, breathing target for all of his fury over that incident. Their rivalry over Tara as well marked the whole situation as a powder keg ready to explode, taking her whole world with it.

  No, she couldn't possibly risk the whole truth coming out, not until until the volatile situation with Christopher trying to steal the estate from her was resolved one way or the other.

  She would just have to keep silent until after she knew for certain whether she had the right to Barnakilla or not. Then she would take Lochlainn with her to Scotland, and break the news to him there, far enough away from Christopher for him to have a chance to cool down before he ever had the chance to set eyes on him again.

  There will be time enough for us to be happy once the truth comes out, won't there? she prayed as she washed the newborn infant, and wrapped it in a blanket.

  Brona smiled up at her wanly. "You look as though you're born to hold a babe."

  "Perhaps I'll be blessed one day."

  "You already are."

  Muireann started so violently, she almost dropped the bairn. She tucked it safely against his mother's side. "W-w-what makes you say that?"

  "Women know these things." She winked.

  "No, I'm sure I'm not, and in any case, I could never—"

  "You're a woman in love, and that makes you truly blessed. And no one could have achieved all you have here without being touched by the angels."

  "It's kind of you to say, but if the love isn't returned—"

  Brona gave another small smile. "Just because he never said it, doesn't mean he doesn't show it every day. We can all see it. You're so wise about so many other things, Muireann. How can you be so foolish as to think he doesn't love you back?"

  Muireann sighed. "He wouldn't love me if he knew me really well."

  "You're the partner of his heart. The mate of his soul. He knows you. And you know him. You may never have said the words, but he's your husband in every sense. Helpmeet, lover, protector, preserver of your resources. And one day, the father of your children, for that's the only thing missing from what you share which can make your life complete."

  Muireann reached out to stroke the baby's cheek. "Perhaps one day, but Brona, with this Famine, well, I just don't dare risk it."

  Brona chuckled weakly. "You gambled your whole life coming here and throwing in with us lot. I know you. You'll dare anything for the man you love. Just trust to that love. Tell Lochainn whatever it is that you've been holding back from him. He can't open up to your love if you won't open to his, now can he?"

  Murieann nodded. "You're right. I know. He said the same thing. I can hardly reproach him for not telling me everything when I've been doing the same thing all along. But Brona, what if I bare my soul to him, and he hates me?"

  She shook her head slightly, and snuggled the child more closely to her. "He might be angry, but he could never hate you. Like I said, I see two souls in such a union of bliss when I look at the pair of you together, that I have no doubts about the depth of your love and commitment to one another.

  "No matter what it is you're holding back, he can help you heal your mind and spirit, just as you've healed his. You both deserve the truth. Tell each other everything, and move forward into the future brimming with confidence, not cowering in fear."

  "Amen to that," Muireann said with a smile. "I only wish I could be confident. But this Famine—"

  Brona patted her hand. "You're the most resourceful person I've ever met. If it's possible to save us all, you will, I know it. I only wish there were a male equivalent of your name, for I would certainly name my son after you if there were."

  Muireann's eyes brimmed with tears. "Name him after his father. He's a good man."

  "But you can be his godmother, if you're willing to stand up for him, that is. I know we would want Lochlainn as godfather."

  "Oh, well, I, er—"

  "Confidence, remember?" She winked again. "It will be fine, you'll see. Now, I think I'm ready for a little nap. So why don't you go find Lochlainn, and start mending some of those fences, all right?"

  Muireann rose from the edge of the bed. "All right, if you're sure you don't need anything else."

  "No, we're great. And you have a great estate to run. So thank you, and off you go."

  Muireann impulsively stooped to kiss them both, and left the cottage with a determined tread.

  She might not be ready or able to tell Lochlainn the whole truth, but Brona was right about one thing. Her future was here at Barnakilla. She loved him, loved them all, and she was equal to any task if she put her mind to it.

  She loved Lochlainn. Body and soul, one flesh, one heart, one mind and spirit. For that, she would risk anything.

  She headed up the path with long strides, determined to lay a solid foundation for a secure future for them all. Everything she had done had been to save Barnakilla. She had no reason to be ashamed. She would make sure that all her sacrifices had not been in vain, and prove herself worthy of his love no matter what.

  All their futures depended upon it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  At around nine that morning, there was tap at the door to her office.

  Muireann looked up as Lochlainn put his head around the door, stony-faced.

  "I'm not here to argue with you, Muireann," he said directly. "I just came to tell you that there's a ship coming up the lough. It's the Andromeda. I thought you would at least want to come down to the jetty."

  She tried to disguise her relief at the news. Pray God it had brought food and supplies.

  "I'll be right there," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

  She tugged her disheveled hair into a long plait before scrubbing her face and hands in the freezing water in the basin, and dusting off her midnight-blue gown. Then she threw her long black cloak over her dress.

  Yanking up the hood, she raced down to the jetty as fast as her wobbling legs could carry her. She couldn't believe her good fortune. All of her prayers had been answered! The Andromeda was here! What a present for the New Year! Her prayers had been answered. Brona was right. She was indeed incredibly blessed.

  The boat docked and the crew immediately began to unload the stores. There were casks of wheat, yellow meal flour, and oats, as well as bushels of turnips, leeks and beets.

  Her heart lifted with every barrel and crate that streamed past her. If they husbanded their resources carefully, there would be enough food to get them through the winter after all.

  Muireann ran down to the dock expecting to see her cousin Michael, eager to thank him and hear his news.

  Instead there were two figures on the jetty. A tall man with graying dark brown hair and an amiable expression turned to greet her.
r />   Muireann blinked in astonishment, and threw herself into his arms with a whoop of joy.

  "Neil! And Philip! How are you?" she asked all in one breath as her brother-in-law twirled her around as he usually did, though not quite as heartily, since he had immediately noted her thinness and pallor.

  Philip, dapper and brown-haired, blushed at this extravagant display of affection, and remarked shyly, "I hope you don't mind. I wanted to come along for the ride. I've heard so much about your life here that I confess I just had to come and see all you have accomplished for myself."

  She took Philip's hand. "Mind? Don't be silly. I'm delighted to see an old friend. And of course, a great deal of this would never have been possible were it not for you giving me the use of the Andromeda in the first place."