After breakfast, he helped her with the dishes and then hitched Brutus and Caesar to the sleigh. She climbed up without waiting for him and spread a blanket across her legs.
He clicked the reins and the horses headed toward the pasture. “Have you driven a sleigh or wagon?”
“A pony cart is all. I suppose ‘tis much the same.”
He kept control of the reins until they reached a bunch of cattle in a depression. Not deep enough to call a canyon or ravine, the gully at least offered his animals a little shelter from the wind. He handed the reins to Gormlaith and climbed to the back.
“Are you not going to tell me what I’m supposed to do? ‘Tis fashed I am wondering.”
“Drive slowly while I fork the hay to the ground. Go by the groups of cattle instead of one all alone. They’ll come where the hay is. When we take care of these, we’ll look for others.” As he predicted, the cattle moved their way when they saw the hay wagon.
“Aye, they’re a hungry bunch, aren’t they? You’re a popular man with your cattle, Mr. McDonald.”
He pitched one forkful after another. “I don’t think they’d like me near as much if I didn’t have food for them. Go toward those bunched at the other side of the ravine.”
The sleigh turned abruptly and he fell onto the thick snow. “Hey! You trying to become a widow already?”
She looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened like new five dollar coins. After setting the brake, she said, “You said to move to the other bunched cows and I was trying.”
He was glad he’d landed in a snowdrift to cushion his fall and that he hadn’t hit his head on the wagon’s side or landed on his pitchfork. “For Pete’s sake, don’t make such sharp turns. You said you’d driven before but that swerve sure didn’t feel like you knew what you were doing.”
She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “For your information, I’ve driven more times than I can count. But, in Ireland, we have roads.” She spread her arms. “There’s nothing but snow as far as the eye can see. And what’s under this covering? I’ve no idea if there’s a great hole beneath that will swallow us.”
He picked up his pitchfork and tossed it into the wagon before he climbed aboard. “There’s no hole, Gormlaith. Just drive slowly and make wide turns.”
She released the brake and clicked the reins. All the while she was talking up a storm in words he couldn’t understand. He figured she was telling him off in Gaelic or Irish or whatever the heck she’d spoken in Ireland. He suspected it was just as well he couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.
When they’d left enough feed for this bunch, he counted them and rejoined her on the bench. “I’ll drive to the next group. Figure they’re over the low ridge ahead.”
She was still angry, that much was plain from the way she held herself stiff and looked ahead.
He reached for her but she cringed and flung her arms up to shield herself. What the hell?
Anger enveloped him at her insult. He took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “How dare you flinch as if I’d hit you. I’ve never hit a woman in my life. Have I given you any reason to think I’d beat you?”
She met his gaze with a frown. “In my experience, a man beats his wife when anything upsets him. Da said ‘tis his right as head of the house. Sure and you were mad enough when you fell.”
“No matter how angry I am, I will never hit you, do you understand?”
She couldn’t have looked more astonished—and disbelieving—if he’d said he’d come from Mars and on the way had sliced her a chunk of cheese from the moon.
He held her hand, though he could barely feel her fingers through the thick gloves. “Men in my family are taught to protect women and children, not to hurt them. Don’t you remember our wedding vows?”
She stared at their hands and shrugged. “N-Not entirely. ‘Twas nervous I was that day, and half-starved as well.”
He exhaled and fought for calm so he didn’t scare her again. “Among the things I pledged was to cherish you, to be with you through sickness and in health until death does us part.”
“That sounds nice. I-I wish I’d heard the minister’s words.”
“If you decide to have us repeat our vows at a mass, I’m sure Father Frederick will say pretty much the same.”
She shook her head. “He’ll say I have to obey you. That Eve was created from Adam’s rib to comfort and serve him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What if she was created from his rib because that’s where his heart is and she was to be at his side as his partner?”
Her apparent surprise changed to a wide grin. “Good thing you’re not Catholic. You’d be excommunicated for heresy if you said such as that.”
He cupped her face and gazed into her gorgeous blue eyes. “Have we reached an understanding?”
“Aye, I reckon we have. I’ve never known such a man as you, Garrett McDonald. Marrying you was the luckiest day of my life.”
He planted a kiss on her sweet lips.
“See that you remember our talk, Gormlaith.”
Chapter Seven
For the next week, the weather remained cold but clear. Then, another storm blew in from the north. Gormlaith couldn’t believe people and animals survived in these temperatures. The windows frosted over so thick she couldn’t see out from the kitchen.
In the parlor where they sat this evening, Garrett laid another log on the fire.
She’d settled in one of the two overstuffed chairs. Never had she had access to something so comfortable. Her family had only hard wooden seats and benches.
She glanced at the fire. “You’re sure we have enough wood to last the winter?”
He took the chair near hers and picked up a book on ranching. “Positive. Remember that even though this is my first winter in this house, I’ve lived in Montana for several years. We have enough wood, though I’ll have to split more in a few weeks.”
She checked the pattern on the sweater she was creating from green yarn. “With the fire going and the lanterns lit, the house is snug. ‘Tis my opinion you bought a fine ranch.”
“Mine, too. To tell you the truth, I was afraid Pickens wouldn’t sell for a price I could afford, but he was so eager to move he took my first offer. The entire family blamed Montana for the three deaths they’d suffered.”
“People die everywhere, but I can see they might be afraid of the cold.”
“Not just the cold. Two summers ago was the worst drought in this area on record. That was followed by the coldest winter. Many families pulled out, other settlers froze to death. Most had little more than shacks and I can imagine the winter was more hardship than they could tolerate.”
“Aye, ‘tis always the same. The poor suffer the most. Also that comes from not being prepared. Sure and the McGowans and I were not prepared for New York.”
“In what ways?”
She kept her the needles clicking while her fingers controlled the yarn. “We had no idea what a winter was like there. No idea everyone looked down on the Irish. No idea finding jobs would be so hard.”
“But you found one. Surely Conor and Denis could have also.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Aye, they did but their tempers and their drinking cost them. From time to time they’d get a few days’ work, but the pay disappeared at the pub. And Moira thought she deserved to do nothing buy care for our flat—as if three rooms took her all day.”
“You’re lucky to be shed of them.” He looked up with a frown. “I don’t mean I’m glad Conor died, for I don’t wish that on anyone. Still, even cold as it is here, I believe you’re better off with me.”
“There’s no doubt about that.” She chewed her bottom lip and dropped a stitch. In disgust, she corrected her mistake.
“Garrett, there’s something bad I must tell you. I hope you won’t cast me out but not telling you is worrying me sick.” She heard the tremor in her voice but she couldn’t do anything about that.
He laid his b
ook on the table between them, his face showing concern. “What’s so bad that you’re this worried?”
How to tell him had been in her thoughts since she’d arrived at his ranch. She took a deep breath, determined not to cry. “When Conor died, I’d come home from work and it was payday. I wanted to go pay our rent first thing, but he demanded my pay so he and Denis could go to the pub. He knocked me around as usual, but I wouldn’t relent. When I had the chance, I ran out of the flat and toward the stairs.”
A fierce look passed across his face. “He knocked you around as usual? There’s nothing usual about a man beating his wife. Did no one help you?”
She shook her head. How could such a fine man understand that the desperate people in that tenement couldn’t help her when they couldn’t help themselves?
“I didn’t push him, I give you my word, but he grabbed me and tried to wrench the pay envelope out of my hand. I fought to get loose and when I did, he fell all the way to the bottom. He broke his neck.”
“And that’s what has you so worried?”
She met his gaze. “There’s more. Moira and Denis blame me in spite of the neighbors who saw what happened telling them it was Conor’s fault and none of mine.”
“Were the police summoned?”
“Aye, Denis called them from the box at the street but they couldn’t have cared, though at least they spoke to the witnesses. Then, they told Moira and Denis the case was closed because it was apparent Conor fell on his own.
“So, your in-laws had to accept the fact his death was due to his own actions.”
She shook her head again. “No, they didn’t. Denis said I should marry him and Moira said it was my duty to support Conor’s family after what I’d done to deprive them of the head of the household.”
He looked stunned. “The nerve of them.”
“They said they were going to complain to the Chief of Police and have me arrested. They said I’d hang for killing Conor.”
“The police had already ruled in the matter.”
“But, that’s when I packed my suitcase and left. Denis frightened me with his leers and always trying to touch me. He was out drowning his sorrow with his friends.”
She shuddered at the memory. “I gave Moira half of my pay and kept the rest. She yelled at me and followed me to the landing. I was frightened she’d push me down the stairs. I don’t know if she paid the rent or not. At that point, I didn’t care.”
“Under the circumstances, you made a wise decision. Where did you go?”
“One of the neighbors who worked with me had heard Denis demanding I marry him. She pulled me aside and told me about a matchmaker, Mrs. Morrison, and I went straight to her office. The place was closed, so I waited on the stoop until morning. I explained what had happened. Mrs. Morrison had Mr. Higgins’ letter and he’d sent money and a ticket so I could leave that day.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Why has this worried you, Gormlaith? You’re well rid of those people. ”
“Aye, but they’ll try to convince the authorities that Conor’s death was my fault. I know me leaving will look bad, but staying would have meant Denis would attack me trying to force me to marry him. Garrett, they’re lazy but they’re evil and won’t stop until they’ve gotten their revenge for me leaving.”
“In my opinion, your concern is for nothing. How could they even find you?” He gave her hand a pat. “But, don’t worry. If trouble comes, we’ll face it together.”
She closed her eyes and gave thanks for the man she’d married. He’d vowed they’d face trouble when it came, as if there was no question about supporting her. He took for granted they could win. A man like Garrett couldn’t understand the workings of corrupt minds like the McGowans’.
But, she had lived with them, more’s the pity, and knew how upside-down their thinking to be. In their warped minds, she was to blame for them losing their funds as well as Conor’s death. Neither Denis nor Moira would rest until they’d made her pay for leaving them. She didn’t know how or when they’d find her, but she was positive those two would bring trouble to her door—which meant Garrett’s, too.
In her heart she knew the time was drawing near and prayed no harm would come to Garrett and that she wouldn’t hang.
***
She and Garrett were in the barn. The horses and hens had been cared for and eggs gathered and stored in the house. Although the storm had lessened, snow still drifted down.
She set her rake in its place. “I’ve cleaned out the hen’s enclosure. They’re fed and have water. I don’t know how it keeps from freezing, but it does.”
“I’ve finished caring for the horses. I’m going to load hay on the sleigh. When the storm stops, we’ll be ready to go out and feed cattle.”
“What shall I do?”
“You could go sew one of your dresses or knit something. No need for you to stand around here. I won’t be much longer.”
“If you think it wise, I’ll go work on my knitting. ‘Tis almost done.” She visualized how her husband would look in the green sweater. She believed the color would be grand with his beautiful brown eyes and brown hair.
Gormlaith trudged back to the house, carefully grasping the rope so she wouldn’t get lost. The snow had changed to flurries, but she wasn’t taking chances now that her life was going so well.
Sometime later, Gormlaith realized enough time had gone by that Garrett should be back in the house. She wondered what could be keeping him. After working about another half hour and finishing the green sweater, she put on her coat and gloves and went to see why he was delayed.
“Garrett?” She opened the barn door enough to squeeze through. “Garrett, I thought you’d be finished by now.”
Her kind husband lay face up on the hard-packed earthen floor. She thought her heart would stop. She froze for a few seconds before she willed herself to act. On shaking limbs, she rushed to him.
“Oh, Garrett.” She dropped to her knees. Touching his face, his head, his chest, she fought to focus so she could help him. “W-What happened to you?”
He remained still. “Fell. Think I blacked out for a while. Pain’s bad.”
Seeing him lying like that set her heartbeat racing. Their isolation impressed on her with dizzying suddenness that she had to manage this crisis on her own. The knowledge snapped her out of her stammering indecision. “Can you move? Wave your hands and wiggle your feet for me.”
Meeting her gaze, he didn’t move. “Hurts too much. Not paralyzed… but can’t stand.”
Dear Heaven, what was she to do? Her head was spinning and her breath caught in her throat. “Did you hit your head? Are your ribs broken?”
“Head hurts. Don’t know about ribs.” He spoke barely above a whisper, his words shaky and gasping.
“You can’t stay here. I have to get you into the house.” She glanced around for some way to help him and assessed her choices. Only one presented itself.
He gazed into her eyes. “How? Hurt my back bad. Can’t stand up much less walk.”
She dreaded hurting him, but there was no other way. She couldn’t leave him here like this long enough to ride to the Hensens or Kincaids. “I’ll try not to hurt you, but this won’t be easy on you.”
She grabbed his coat and turned him over as gently as she could so he was on his stomach. He grabbed her arm and cried out, his face paling even more. His cry was like a stab to her heart.
She kissed his jaw. “Oh, I’m so sorry I hurt you, but ‘tis not over. Garrett, I’m going to drag you to the house even though it will cause you more pain. There’s no other way. Keep your head up.”
Her muscles tightened in readiness and she ignored her fear. Grasping his hands and tugging, she pulled him to the barn door. Dear Heaven, she hoped she wasn’t dislocating his shoulders. From her position, she couldn’t see his face, but she thought he was conscious.
“We’ve reached the barn door and this should be easier on the snow.”
�
��Mmhph.”
What if his ribs were broken and she caused them to puncture something? How would she get help? If he was bleeding inside, he might die. The thought staggered her, but she couldn’t give in to fear now.
She wanted to reassure him but she didn’t know if he really registered what she said. “We’re making progress. You’re doing fine, husband. Keep your chin from hitting the ground.”
Tugging him required all her strength but she got him across the snow to the porch steps. He groaned and appeared to pass out. She knew the pain must be unbearable for him to even admit he hurt, but she had to get him inside to safety so she could tend to him.
“You’re going to have to help me.” Kneeling, she rubbed snow on his face.
He turned his head away, spluttering. He mumbled, “Aw, why’d you do that?”
With her face close to his, she explained, “You drifted off and I need your help. Can you hold on to me long enough to get up onto the porch?”
She tugged on his hand. “Come on, stay awake just a little longer. Put one arm over my shoulder and the other around my waist.”
“Sure.”
But, he didn’t move except to close his eyes. She sat on the steps to rest, heedless of the snow. If only Billy were here today.
No point wishing. Garrett’s safety and care was up to her. She gathered her strength and bent to get his armpits on her shoulders. Standing slowly, she backed up the steps, dragging him with her.
Fortunately, she was tall and limber rather than tiny and elflike as she’d always wished. Still, his dead weight was almost more than she could handle. Backing up with his arms around her neck was awkward. What would happen to them if she injured herself?
Hearing his boots clunk up the steps reassured her even though dragging him was not doing his body or footwear any good. All that mattered now was getting him inside before he froze. And, she had to get him where she could care for his injury.
When her backside bumped the door, the barrier sent relief through her even as she fumbled with the fastener. Continuing her course until Garrett’s feet cleared the doorway, she laid him on the floor as gently as she could. Then, she shut the door.
Montana Sky: The Rancher And The Shepherdess (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Loving A Rancher Book 2) Page 6