“You might as well leave the fence open for a few more hours so I can get our wagon through.”
A startled expression fell over his face as he studied her. It was almost as if she was something very foreign to him. She’d been gently reared and almost never teased. Things were hard enough without someone trying to make another person feel bad.
“I don’t want you to leave. You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
“See those trees over there? I’ll sit there and wait until you are done. After that, we will pack up and leave in the morning. I thank you for your hospitality.” Her shoulders slumped and her walking slowed as she made her way to the trees. She sat down and leaned against the biggest trunk trying to keep herself together. She’d been a fool to think some of her burdens had been lifted off her shoulders by Brogan. He was right about one thing, though. They didn’t have enough supplies to get out of Texas. She’d have to find a job where Orla could stay with her while she worked. She couldn’t even think of a job that would allow Orla to be there. She shouldn’t have gotten mad. She’d just made things so much harder for them.
She wasn’t normally a crier, but these were not normal circumstances. She couldn’t stop the flow of tears that ran down her face. She prayed for strength and she prayed for a safe journey. It was all her fault since she was the one that had gotten them lost. She couldn’t even count horses right. There was only one thing she was exceptionally good at, making pies. Her breath caught. Maybe there was a bakery in town.
The horses still surrounded Orla. They must sense she wasn’t capable of hurting anything. Her bright smile was a balm to Ciara’s heart. Nothing should rattle her. She needed to be extra strong for Orla. God would provide, he always did.
Chapter Five
Brogan couldn’t believe she called him a bully. He’d always been the one who was bullied by his… well it didn’t matter anymore. He could tell by the way her shoulders shook she was crying and it was his doing. He wasn’t sure what to say to her to make things right. He hadn’t meant to, be a bully. He was having fun at her expense. She must be too serious.
He glanced at Orla. Ciara had a reason to be serious. An apology would be the best thing. He hadn’t received many in his life though he wished he had. Now, how to go about it? It would have to wait. He was fixing the fence and he would not leave an open section for her wagon.
When he was done, he grabbed his canteen and took a long drink before he carried the canteen over to Orla.
“Thanks for the horse count.”
Her eyes widened. “Why are you thanking me?” Her shoes seemed to hold some fascination for her.
“I’m going to bring water to Ciara. Will you be fine here?”
“I’m not a baby.”
“I know.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he walked through some tall grass to the trees.
She ignored him, pretending that she didn’t see him. He sat down next to her under the tree, and still she didn’t turn her head in his direction. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I brought water.”
There was no response from her. She must be the champion of the silent treatment.
“Listen, I’m very sorry I hurt you. I found it amusing, and it wasn’t right. I’m used to nine brothers and we always joked around and wrestled. I’m not used to being around women and even though it doesn’t seem like a good excuse… I’m not very good at apologizing. I am sorry I hurt you. It wasn’t intentional. I feel horrible I made you cry. You have enough reasons to be upset, and I just made things worse.”
“You didn’t leave room for the wagon,” she said with accusation in her voice.
He winced. “I don’t want you to leave until I can get supplies for you. You’ll starve.”
She let out a heavy breath and looked out at the horizon. Then she straightened her back and turned to him. “I won’t take charity. Let me know when I’ve earned enough for the supplies. It might take a month.” She bit her lip.
“Two weeks tops, I bet. Enough time for you to get a rest and go over the map to St. Louis.” He gave her a gentle smile.
“I don’t know how to read a map. I can read, mind you. It’s just that I’ve never even looked at a map. Will I be able to follow it and not get lost?” She shook her head. “My pa always drove the wagon so which way is west or east is a foreign concept to me. I never gave it any thought at all.”
“It’ll be good for you to know. Ranchers usually talk about places on their ranches in directional terms. Like the west pasture or move the cattle to the east. Sometimes right between morning and afternoon it can get confusing. Don’t worry I’ll help you.”
A sigh burst from her, and a smile quivered to life on her lips. “And in exchange for everything I will keep house, cook, clean, do the wash and whatever else needs doing. Orla will keep insisting on milking one of the cows.” Her smile widened. “Would you like breakfast before we all go to the barn in the mornings?”
He grinned. “You’re a good person, Ciara. Which would Orla prefer?”
“She’d run to the barn in her night clothes if she could. I’ll have the coffee ready and when we get back, I’ll make breakfast. Does that sound good to you?”
“Yes, and I’ll try to defer to you when she wants to do something, but she can be a bit slippery. Did she have your pa wrapped around her finger?”
Ciara smiled. “Oh, yes she did. Mother was forever being overruled. To my pa’s credit he didn’t know he was overruling my mother. My mother would just laugh and then tell Orla that what she did wasn’t right. But since there was three of us one of us were always to be by her side. Now it’s just me, and I can’t go and do all the things she wants to do. She is my responsibility but not only that, I love her with my whole heart.” She heaved a sigh. “I suppose we should head back. I bet everyone is hungry.”
He stood and reached his hand out for her to take and when she did, intense feelings almost knocked him down. Quickly he helped her up and she looked as shaken as he felt. They both let go as soon as she was standing. They didn’t glance at each other the whole walk over to the horses.
They rode to the house at a slower pace than when they’d ridden out. Finally, it came into sight. But as he turned to get Ciara’s attention, he heard her scream. He whirled Prince around and spotted Ciara lying on the ground. Calling her name, he jumped down and ran to her. She sat up and peered around.
“Something spooked the horse,” she claimed, glancing about.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he kneeled next to her.
“Bruised probably, but other than that I feel fine.” She gave him a distant smile, and he knew she hurt more than she let on.
He scooped her up into his arms and placed her behind Orla. “Hold on to your sister.”
He started to walk to Prince when he heard Orla tell Ciara she’d told her the horse said he’d throw her. She could have been seriously hurt. Did Orla know why the horse had planned to unseat Ciara?
He grinned to himself as he mounted Prince. Orla had him believing she could talk to them.
Chapter Six
A week later, Brogan sat on the front porch at dusk. He enjoyed having the Doyle sisters around. Orla was forever asking about ranching while Ciara made his house into a home. The week went by so quickly. He didn’t want them to leave. It was a heart-filling feeling when he came home to Ciara and a home-cooked meal.
The front door opened. Glancing up he saw Ciara smiling at him. She was beautiful, yet she didn’t seem to know it.
“Would you like more coffee or maybe more pie?”
His mouth watered, but he shook his head. “No, though another piece of pie is tempting.”
She sat down on the edge of the wooden chair. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She wrung her hands for a moment. “I know a way I could earn money. I’d have to go to town of course.”
“No.”
She frowned. “What do you mean no? You haven’
t even heard me out.”
“Go ahead so I can tell you I won’t allow you to sell yourself for money.” He was getting angry.
“Fiddlesticks, you have your mind on things you’ll need to confess to God. Would it hurt to listen to a person before you said no?” Her shoulders slumped. She stood and went into the house.
He expected her to slam the door, but she didn’t. Maybe he thought the worst of people. She hadn’t done one thing that should make him assume selling herself was the reason she wanted to go to town. He rubbed his hand over his face. The nights were getting cooler, much cooler. It had to be cold in the wagon. He’d offered and offered for them to sleep inside. They could even share a room, but Ciara was firm in not accepting.
Now she had him wondering what she was going to say. Why would one want to go to town? His mind would just go on and on with ideas of what she might need to go to town for. He stood and strode inside then he stopped for a moment and slowed down. He didn’t want to ruffle her feathers.
“Is Orla in the wagon already?” He hesitated at the pot then helped himself to a cup of coffee.
“Yes, she’s sewing a surprise for you so don’t disturb her.” Her tone was snippy.
“I’m sorry for how I said no before you explained anything,” he began. “There isn’t much in town, and I jumped to conclusions. I don’t know why I do it. Forgive me?”
“Maybe I’m too sensitive.” She gave him a quick glance.
“No, you are not.” He offered an apologetic smile. “I have a big mouth, and I don’t give people the benefit of doubt. I feel as though I keep watching and waiting for some type of betrayal. It is not your fault. I’ll try harder. I wish I could just stop these negative thoughts.”
He sat down at the table across from her. “What I should have asked is what did you have planned. Especially since you looked excited.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ve always won first place at any Founders Day or Independence Day celebration with my pies, and I thought I’d like to see if anyone would want to buy them. The general store or maybe at any restaurant? I’d need more baking supplies and you could take it out of my wages, what you said to me on the porch might very well be my fate in St. Louis. I just don’t know. We might be here for more than another week.”
“Your pies are very good,” he agreed with a nod. “I don’t see why not? You can make a few pies to give to the store owner or the restaurant owner. Once they taste them, I’m sure you’ll get business. And… you can stay as long as you like. Just let me know when you want to go so I can free up some time.”
The joy and excitement on her face was almost too much for him. No one had ever looked at him that way. She was drawing him in, and he couldn’t help himself. He wanted nothing more than being wanted for who he was and not for who his family was.
“The only thing is, if we wait much longer to leave it’ll be too late. It’ll be bitter cold. Maybe Orla and I could rent a house or a room in town.”
He wanted to scream no, but he waited a bit, calming himself. She was entitled to do anything she wanted. “You can look if you like, but wouldn’t it be easier to just move into the house?”
She opened her mouth to speak and it was going to be a no, he just knew it.
“Just think about it,” he interrupted before she could say it. “I have a very nice kitchen where you can make your pies. I could help deliver them if necessary. I hate to think of Orla closed up in a room in town. The horses will stop eating if she leaves, and skinny horses don’t sell.”
She burst out laughing. The sound rolled over him, leaving warmth in its wake. She laughed for what seemed like a good long time. Finally, she stopped and caught her breath. “Brogan, I haven’t laughed like that in such a very long time!” She stared at him with eyes that sparkled; beautiful eyes he couldn’t pull his gaze from.
It would never work but he wanted this one moment of happiness. It flowed through him, and it was as though he tingled inside.
“You are a nice man, Brogan Kavanagh. I feel blessed I found your fallen fence to drive through.” Her face turned a beautiful shade of crimson. She broke their stare and put both hands to her. “I feel strange. I will check on Orla.”
He stood when she did and watched her leave. He tried, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. She seemed so honest, so genuine but he just couldn’t. His grin faded and he banked the fire before he went to bed.
* * *
The next day Ciara was still trying to get the chill out of her bones as she made the coffee. Her shoulders tensed at the sound of Brogan’s footsteps. She’d behaved like an ignorant schoolgirl last night. He had some strange power over her, and it was too unsettling. His grin was far worse than any sweet-talking she’d ever heard. It was downright dangerous.
“Yes!” Orla shouted as she ran to Brogan and hugged him.
“Did I miss something?” Brogan was grinning again with his laugh lines etched so deep.
“I’m moving in. I was so cold last night my knees knocked together all night.”
“Orla, we don’t mention body parts in front of men,” she chastised.
Orla frowned. “You said I could treat him as I would a brother. I never learned how to fish or climb trees.” The gleam in her eyes had Ciara groaning.
Brogan turned to her. “Were your knees… I mean, were you cold too?” His lips twitched.
She lifted her chin. “I didn’t have a moment of coldness. In fact, I never suffer such things.”
He laughed. “Either you’re cold or not. The other bedroom has two beds. The bedding is all new.”
Orla ran by him.
“I’m getting the best bed!”
Brogan chuckled again, and Ciara stared at him. “There will be no more grins around here.”
His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know but they have a strange effect on me, and I’d rather have my wits about me.” Her eyes grew wider. “Stop laughing at me.”
“Don’t think I can. I’ll go milk a cow or something.” He was still laughing when he was outside.
She couldn’t help her smile either. He was too dangerous. She’d said no to moving in, and now somehow, they were moving in. She sighed. She’d need to keep her guard up.
* * *
Brogan glanced up as the two women joined him in the barn. He peered around the cow. “I’m over here. Orla, did you want to milk Mercy?”
Orla was by his side instantly. “Oh yes. Mercy is a pretty name.”
He grinned as he changed places with Orla. “It was the first I said to her. She kicked me and I said, ‘ have Mercy.’ We’ve made our peace since then. She’s friendly.”
“I don’t think she’s listening to you.”
Orla was whispering to Mercy and milking like crazy.
“My, goodness. You really know how to milk a cow. Orla, you’re much faster than I am.” Orla flashed him a smile and went back to her milking. “I’ll go check on Bessie.”
“Wait, I want to meet her. I’m almost done,” Orla responded eagerly.
He met Ciara’s gaze, and they exchanged grins. “I’ll wait. You don’t have to hurry.”
He stood next to Ciara and he felt connected to her. There was something between them but as far as he was concerned, it was friendship and nothing else.
“You have a nice place, Brogan. You’re a hard worker.”
“I’m always busy, it seems, but it suits me. I get a real feeling of accomplishment when I see the horses. I’ve only been here a few months. I have a good herd and most of the mares have either foaled or are carrying. I have them in a separate pasture.” He sidestepped putting a good amount of space between them. And he kept his gaze on Orla. She was moving on to the next cow with a fresh bucket.
They were moving in with him and he wanted to take the invitation back. He wasn’t done feeling sorry for himself and he wasn’t done with the hurt his family put upon him. He’d have to smile and he liked to do things when he want
ed to. Regular meals were like keeping tabs on someone; expecting them to be there at a certain time. He wanted his freedom and they hadn’t spent a night in the house yet.
“Brogan, do you think we could get a dog?” Orla asked.
He swallowed hard. “Only if you plan to take him with you when you go.”
He saw Ciara stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t uninvite them.
“I’m going to get breakfast started.”
“I thought you didn’t want Orla alone with me.” He tilted his head waiting for an answer.
She pinned him with a look. “I know you value honesty and truth. I will trust you. Don’t make me regret it.” She turned and walked out of the barn.
She knew him better than he thought. It was a nice feeling to be trusted. He could be trusted. It was others he was wary of. Both had experienced life-changing events lately. He wasn’t sure what he had done but Ciara didn’t seem to be happy with him. If they would live together, he’d have to get to the bottom of it. There was nothing worse than living in a house with tension.
He watched in fascination as Orla talked to Bessie. Orla sure had a gift. A smile crept over his face, Ciara was probably mad that she had no choice but to move in to the house. He was learning through her frustrations that a body couldn’t control everything. He’d be sure to knock off early enough to take her into town. Maybe when she was deep in pies, she’d be happier and more easy-going.
Chapter Seven
The trip to town wasn’t going as Ciara had hoped. She was stuck in the middle on the wagon seat between Orla and Brogan. She could tell Brogan thought it funny to touch her knee with his. The first time it happened he apologized but the second time his lips twitched, and now he had the nerve to grin. She could see him from the corner of her eye, and he knew it. She didn’t have any room to scoot over away from him.
She folded her hands on her lap and bowed her head. She wasn’t prepared for games with a man. Why he thought it was funny, she did not understand. The only reason she could think was that he knew she felt something when he touched her. It was a rotten thing to do. He was a strange man. One minute he was caring and the next he was torturing her.
Brogan: Cowboy Pride: The Kavanagh Brothers Book Three Page 3
