“Well, let’s not be forgetting what dear ol’ James II did just ten years ago at Derry, starving out the good Protestants ʼtil they were even eating their mice. The Reverend Marshall told tale of a man there that was so fat, he was afraid to go into the street for fear of being someone’s dinner.”
“Aye, but the Protestant troops were winning against the Jacobite forces at Newtownbutler at that very same time. And there’s been far more Catholic children starving than Protestant children over the last fifty years.”
“Now, let us think a moment. I did not ask you all here for a history lesson.” Antoine feared the men were near to blows. “This reminiscing and keeping score is why Ireland is in such pain. France lost her greatness all because she would not accept the Protestants. And I believe Ireland will be torn apart if we Protestants and Catholics will not all work together for a common good. Can we do that? Can we start here?”
Albert chimed in. “I chose you, Michael O’Toole and Paddy Flanagan, because I believe you to be honest, true men who will listen and do what is right. We need leaders here from both communities who are willing to do that—do what is right, even when there is heated excitement to go along with the crowd. If our leaders, on both sides, can set the example, maybe the fighting will end.”
“That’s all fine an’ good, but what about the soldiers? You know they look for reasons to separate us an’ then destroy our lands an’ homes. They know that if we can’t pay our rents, they can throw us out. And if they can time it just right, they can starve us out. More than once I’ve seen potatoes be all that’s standing between families and starvation. All because the banshees didn’t burn under the ground when they set the fields aflame.” Antoine knew from the start Flanagan would be a hard sell. Though a good man, he had reasons not to trust another protestant.
“What would ye be thinking we need to do to make this work, Crockett?” Thomas Stewart leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
“The first thing I see is we have to set an example. We help those in need, no matter their faith. If we find that someone needs help, and they won’t respond because we are of different faiths, we can help through each other. For instance, suppose I knew of someone with a need for some assistance, but they did not trust taking help from a Protestant. I could tell Albert and he could help, or even take what I have to give in my place. They would not have to know the help was from me.” Antoine and Albert had actually been doing this for many years but hoped to see this plan of help more widely used.
“Aye, that sounds reasonable.” Michael O’Toole nodded his shaggy head.
“Aye, but what else have ye in mind?” Paddy warily glanced from Antoine to Albert.
“We can set an example by not showing favoritism in our dealings. Be fair to all, no matter the faith.”
Choruses of offense, disclaiming any favoritism, quickly spread around the room as the men jumped to their feet.
“I did not say any of you did show favoritism.” Antoine raised his voice above the din and, finally the men sat. “I only am pointing out that we need to be very open about ‘no favoritism,’ so we are setting an example with the hope the practice will spread. If our communities see this is the way of business—the way Christ would have done things—then perhaps they will join us. When we work together, we get to better know each other.
“Which brings me to another issue. It is with a united front that we, as Irishmen, can stand against the onslaughts of England. I am not looking for a fight with them, but neither do I see a reason for Ireland to be slaves for England. The only way to stand together is to trust one another. And the only way to trust one another is to treat and love each other as Christ would do.” Antoine paused before standing and placing his hand, palm down on the table before him. “Who is with me?”
Albert stood, adding his hand to his friend’s. He and Antoine searched the face of each man seated at the table. Thomas Stewart and Michael O’Toole both rose at the same time and placed their hands on the table as well. The eyes of those standing now moved to the last two men. Paddy Flanagan stared hard at the hands on the table and, as if coming to a final conclusion, rose and very deliberately slapped his weathered hand alongside the others.
That left only Cameron McHugh, who had not spoken a word since the meeting began. Cameron, a quiet man who seemed to tower over the rest of the population, was not a man to be cajoled or bullied into a decision. Nor would he be shamed into something just because everyone else was doing it, though, the fact he looked not at the others might lead a stranger to believe that was the case. In truth, the reason Antoine chose Cameron McHugh was that he never made a decision without first taking it to prayer.
Paddy Flanagan chewed at the corner of his lip, undoubtedly ready to say something caustic that would unravel all Antoine and Albert had accomplished, when, with a scraping sound, Cameron McHugh raised his great hulk from his chair. “Twill be much harder to live this plan out there than it was to speak of it in here. But tis what my Savior would have done, and I can do no less. Tis not the caring for the poor ones, nor the fairness in business that gives me pause. Tis the knowing that our solidarity will cause pain, and perhaps danger. Not everyone will like this. There’ll be those who choose to fight. Even we Protestants have our own divisions. Stewart, you know the Anglicans will not be as excited to accept this as the Presbyterians and Huguenots. But Jesus said to take up His cross, and so—” placing his hand on the table—“that I do.”
Silence hung in the air until, suddenly, a cheer went up. Then the men began to hug and slap backs as if ready to start an adventure.
Antoine raised his hands, calling for their attention. “My friends, my partners in this endeavor: This plan has been on my heart for so long. I have no doubt that it was placed there by God to show us how to live together in His love. Now that we have pledged ourselves to His plan, let us join together in prayer for His leading and guidance.”
The men quieted as one and bowed heads. The three Catholic believers quietly crossed themselves as Antoine began to pray for them all. “Holy Father, we thank Thee for joining our hearts as one with Yours. You are the God of all and the One Who will lead and guide us for Thy Name’s sake. Show us Thy heart, Father. Help us to love as You love. Let us see with Thine eyes, that we may lift Christ in all we do and say. We need Thy strength, Lord, and Your protection for our families and communities. We need Your wisdom and discernment to accomplish this task Your way. Lord, we ask that You cover us with Thy wings, as we abide in Your Almighty shadow. Open our ears to Thy voice that we may follow Thee, our Shepherd, wherever You lead. And may all the glory and honor in this endeavor be Thine, now and always. Amen.”
A chorus of “amen” murmured around the table as Albert, Michael, and Paddy again made the sign of the cross. This moment was sacred, all six men stood still with heads bowed. Antoine realized life had just changed. He had yet to know how, but for himself, he knew there would be no turning back.
Not now.
Not ever.
Chapter Five
I’m here with the bairn, Widow O’Connor. Why don’t ye take a wee stretch of the legs whilst I keep an eye on yer Samuel for ye? If ye’ve the mind, that is.”
Shannon, feeling the sun’s rays caress her face with invitation, nearly missed Miss Stewart’s unexpected offer. She suspected the young woman had noticed her staring out at the waiting world. Twas a fine spring day. What with the noon meal completed and both children fed, bathed, and put down for a nap, the offer sorely tempted. Never had a day appeared so glorious.
“Tis kind of ye, Miss, but I’ll not be leaving ye alone with the lads.” Pride steeled her back, keeping her from glancing out the window one more time.
“I’m not alone. Aye, there’s Bridget, my ever-vigilant shadow—thanks to me father—and this house is never without someone coming by to see about Wee Joseph.” Sarah gently squeezed Shannon’s shoulder. “Ye must be longing to go. I can hear the sunshine calling to ye.”
The words made Shannon smile and nod. A kind suggestion. It had been several days since she’d been outside the house. In truth, she couldn’t even remember when she had last been alone.
“Aye, I thank ye for yer offer. Tis the green what’s calling to me.” She nodded her thanks once more, grabbed her shawl from the foot of her bed, and wrapped it loosely about her. “I won’t be but a whipstitch.”
“Take yer time.” Sarah smiled.
Watching to see that her Samuel slept, curled up with the rag doll she’d made, Shannon slipped out, treading lightly down the stairs. Not yet through the backdoor, though, she glanced over her shoulder. Might some harm come to Samuel while she was gone? Then she remembered the kindnesses shown her over the past few weeks. She put her imagination to rest.
The Crocketts were more than kind. They allowed her to attend Mass at the rock whenever she wanted. At first, she’d thought to steal away, but they apparently knew all about the Mass Rocks and the need to keep the locations secret. The de Grillets even went with her to the clandestine service, in full knowledge that to be caught worshipping as a Catholic could mean prison. Or worse.
Shannon dinnae ken. The two families seemed so close. More than just close. Like family?
True, both came from France, but the Crocketts were Huguenots. Protestants. The de Grillets were Catholic. It made no sense.
All the kindness and understanding the Crocketts extended to Shannon felt foreign. Her mind warned beware. But daily experience revealed another side to this family.
Shannon remained lost in thought, wandering to a nearby brook through fields dotted with sweet cicely and meadow fescues. Seating herself on the bank, she slipped off her shoes and oft-mended stockings to dangle her toes in the water. She lifted them, letting tiny rivulets roll down her feet before dunking them once more. Freedom misted over her with each droplet splashed.
So much happened this past year. As a rule, she managed to force the past from her mind. Except at night when she snuggled down with her Samuel. Then she prayed exhaustion would keep her from thinking. But now unbidden memories flooded. Surprisingly, many were of happy times.
Sean’s rakish smile and twinkling eyes danced in her mind, bringing back the good times they’d enjoyed before his illness and premature death stole her exuberance for life. She lay back, putting her arms beneath her head. This had been their spot where they talked and dreamt of their future. She knew every gold fleck in his hazel eyes. And that nose of his, turned up at the tip, wrinkling when he laughed. Ah, that laugh. Robust and from his heart. Shannon heard the promise of it in her Samuel’s sweet giggle. Sitting up, she fanned her feet, watching water beads fly, a rare giggle of her own erupting in the joy of the moment.
So lost in her thoughts, the quiet footsteps from behind made her jump. Shannon hadn’t heard the other person until he was nearly upon her. Turning, she saw Master Mackenzie, the family’s guest. He smiled and tipped his hat before continuing as if to pass her by.
“G’day to ye, Widow O’Connor. Don’t mind me, I’m just out to take a gleek at the land.”
“G’day to ye, sir.” The heat rose in her cheeks, while watching him continue on his way. A handsome man with a gentleman’s bearing. She noticed him more than she wanted to admit. He had hazel eyes.
Like her Sean.
A shiver rolled down her spine.
Maybe that was it. Master Mackenzie’s eyes resembled Sean’s. Shannon picked up a sock and began fitting it over her toes.
Other than their eyes, though, the two men appeared nothing alike. Where Sean was shorter with a muscular frame, Ian Mackenzie was tall and leanly built. Sean was darker in complexion where Ian was fairer, with honey-blond hair and the remnants of soft freckles across the bridge of his nose. They were two different men, but both very handsome, each in his own way.
But why had she taken note of Master Ian Mackenzie?
More important, why was she so bothered?
Shannon threw her other sock against the tree with disgust. She had no time for men. Yet she couldn’t deny it. Like it or not, she still lived. Convincing herself it was merely an observation, she fetched her sock. She didn’t need to dwell on Master Ian Mackenzie or any other man. For now.
* * *
Sarah laid the sleeping Wee Joseph in the cradle just as Samuel opened his eyes. She expected him to cry when he didn’t see his mother. But the little one surprised her by holding out his arms. He snuggled into her with a hug before leaning over, wanting down. Sarah joined Samuel on the floor and began a game of peek-a-boo. Over and over she hid her face. The toddler giggled just as hard, maybe even harder, each time she pulled her hands away. A lovely sound. Sweet, innocent, musical. She laughed right along.
While her fingers covered her face, she heard the nursery door creak. Thinking it was Bridget returning with clean nappies, she didn’t even look up. “Just put them in the top drawer of his chest, Bridget.”
“Put what in the top drawer?”
James leaned in the doorway.
Turning back, she felt his gaze while the toddler continued to delight in their game.
The most outgoing brother of the group, James had friends everywhere. Thinking back, though, Sarah couldn’t recall any women friends. She had wondered about this in the past, and again did so when the thought briefly crossed her mind. Funny, kind, and good with babies from what she could tell, Jamie appeared to dote on Wee Joseph. Maybe she should introduce him to one of her friends.
“He’s taught ye well.” James laughed, walking over to where they played on the floor.
“Samuel enjoys the game, and that’s for sure. We’ve been at it for more than half an hour. He’s giggling as much now as when we started.”
“Move over and let me try.”
James sat down and Samuel scurried straight into Sarah’s lap.
“Well, we know what he thinks about ye.” She chuckled.
“Aye, he is a little flirt. He has an eye for the ladies, I’m thinking,” James chuckled, too, and stretched out on the floor.
“He’s a sweet bairn with a brain to know to stay away from the likes of ye.”
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” His brogue deepened as he teased. “What’ere ʼave I done to ye to deserve such ill treatment?” He flashed her a look of wide-eyed innocence.
“Ye mean aside from tormenting me, calling me names, pulling me hair…”
“Now wait a blessed minute. That was when I was a calloused youth with no understanding of the fairer sex.”
“Oh, do ye mean yesterday?”
“Aye.” He winked. “Today I am mature and responsible.”
“I see. And can ye tell me this, Jamie lad? How am I to know ye’ve made this miraculous change?”
As if right on cue, Wee Joseph woke, letting out a cry.
“I’ll show you.” He jumped up, “Come to your favorite uncle, little man. Tell me what’s ailing you. Ah, there, there.”
At once, James’s eyes bulged.
Sarah grinned, knowing the cause, and pointed to a small chest next to the cradle.
“The clean nappies are over there, and the rags for cleaning him are in the drawer beneath the pitcher and basin.”
Already James held the baby aloft at arms’ length, “But, but—”
“Oh, aye.” She laughed. “I can see how ye have matured and become responsible.” Sarah reached for the baby, but James resisted.
“Now, hold on. It can’t be all that hard. I’ve worked around farm animals all my life. I should be able to change a soiled nappy.” Turning to his nephew, he continued. “Let’s show this Miss High-an’-Mighty that we men are quite capable too.” Laying one of the rags down on the chest before placing Wee Joseph on top of it, he unbundled the baby until he’d removed the soiled garment. James glanced around, gingerly holding the offending cloth between his thumb and forefinger.
Sarah snickered but took pity on him. She disposed of the dirty diaper, while James wet a rag in the
basin and cleaned the little bottom.
Finally, he placed a fresh linen napkin under Wee Joseph and smiled at the sweet face. A tiny fountain sprang up, playfully spraying the front of his shirt.
“Wha—? You little imp. I’m supposed to be your favorite uncle. Why didn’t you save that trick for Sarah?”
It happened so quickly, Sarah couldn’t keep from laughing. “Little boys will do that. Even at this innocent age, one canna trust a male.”
James, wiping off the front of his shirt with another clean rag, joined in the laughter.
Sarah pushed James out of the way before deftly removing the wet diaper and replacing it with a fresh one. “Now if ye’ll hold the bairn, I’ll clean up the rest for ye.”
“That I can do.” James took Wee Joseph to the rocker.
“Aye and now, little man. We need to come to some kind of understanding if I’m to be your favorite uncle. There’ll be no more antics like we’ve had today. Are you clear with that?”
Sarah smiled to herself while listening to the one-sided exchange.
“And, for good measure, we’ll let Sarah handle the nappy changing from now on.” Wee Joseph made a cooing sound. “Aye, that’s right. So, we’re in agreement.”
Aye, he would make a wonderful father one day. “I think he’s taken to ye, Jamie.” Sarah leaned over his shoulder.
“And why shouldn’t he? I tell ye, I’m his favorite.”
“I just wish…” She paused, unsure whether she should finish her statement.
“Ye wish what, Sarah?” He didn’t bother to look up. “What do ye wish?”
“I wish Joseph would spend this kind of time with his son. I’m not even sure he’s ever held him.”
The rocker stopped. This time James swiveled to look Sarah square in the eye. Avoiding his gaze, she turned her attention back to Samuel. She sat on the floor, resuming their peek-a-boo game.
“Ye mean to tell me he doesn’t ever come see this wee one? Has he gone daft?”
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 32
