“But how will they live now, if we have everything they own?”
“We don’t,” replied Alec. “I mostly took the things they could replace themselves. Baskets, blankets, some pottery—they can make it all again. Ponies they can catch. Some jewelry, not much, but they insisted. Shirts and moccasins. And enough food to get us home again. That’s the only thing that will really cost them anything, but I didn’t see how we’d get along without it.”
“But, Daniel, what are we going to do with it all?” she asked.
“I don’t know, aroon. We should keep some of it, at least. It wouldn’t be right not to. But the rest...” He shrugged, then grimaced.
“Maybe we could ask Carolyn to set up another auction,” Annie said. Daniel’s only reply was a smile.
Later in the day, Alec built a wide bed out of pine boughs and helped Daniel onto it. Annie lay down next to him and they slept until suppertime. The next morning, Daniel was up on his feet for a short while, though shakily. His wounds were healing cleanly and when he flexed his arm and found some mobility, he joked, “Back where I was a week ago!”
The following afternoon, Alec declared, “I’m sick of pemmican and jerky. I want a nice roasted bird or some rabbit stew. Do you two think you can entertain yourselves for a while?”
From his place on the bed of boughs, Daniel waved a hand at him. As his friend stole away into the forest, he reached for Annie’s hand.
“Aroon.” His chest was tight with longing. “I need you.”
She slipped in under the blanket, and his free hand loosened her hair. It fell down softly over his arms and chest. With both hands he framed her face, then gazed into her beautiful eyes.
“Annie.” He didn’t have the words to tell her what he felt. But she smiled at him, coming close to rest her cheek against his heart. “Oh, Annie...”
Her lips brushed softly against his chest. He buried his fingers in her hair, closed his eyes, and lost himself in the love she gave him.
THE WAGONS ARRIVED at sunset. Tommy shared a seat with Owen, John Patrick with Irene. Brian followed behind on Old Son. Owen almost broke his leg climbing down from his perch, so eager was he to see his daughter, to touch her and hold her. As she ran to him, Irene ran to her brother. He was sitting cross-legged by the campfire and stretched his good arm out to her. She fell on her knees at his side, wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face on his bare shoulder. Her tears fell hot against his skin.
“Hush, mavourneen. It’s all over.”
“Daniel, I was so scared.”
“Me, too. Were you brave?”
Her tear-stained face showed him the slightest of smiles. “Yes. But it was so hard!”
He kissed her forehead. “I know. But it wouldn’t mean anything if it weren’t, would it?”
She leaned back then, and touched the bandage that was wrapped around his chest. “Are you really all right?”
“A little sore, but not badly hurt. I’m glad you came.”
She brightened up at that. Annie came back to them and Irene leaped up to hug her, her tears starting anew. Annie whispered something that he didn’t hear, and it made his sister laugh.
“Oh, wait!” Irene cried. “I have something for you—where did I put it?” She wore a pair of Jake’s discarded denims, a corduroy jacket, cotton shirt and blue bandanna; she had to search through all the pockets to find what she was looking for. “Here!” She thrust a note at Annie.
“‘I lov yu, Annie’,” she read aloud. “‘I prayd for yu. Yor frend, Norah.’ Oh, Daniel, look at this! Isn’t it beautiful?”
He took the letter, drew her down next to him, and smiled up at his sister. “Thanks.”
“I better go see what I can do to help,” she said and left them there together.
The men came one at a time, to inquire after his wounds and Annie’s health. His father held his hand tightly for a long moment. Jake had given them an abbreviated story but Alec had filled in the details. Daniel didn’t want to discuss it, and they respected his wishes. They ate around the campfire and Brian helped himself to the last of the rabbit stew after everyone else was finished.
“This is real good, Miss Annie,” he said.
“Thanks,” she drawled, her eyes twinkling at him, “but Alec made it.”
“Naw. Did ’e really? Sure don’t taste like a man’s cookin’.”
Laughter rang through the glade as they began to swap cooking stories. Brian insisted that Adam was the worst cook on the range while Irene argued with him. It was Frank, she stated, and by no small margin.
When Annie began to yawn, they all went to bed. Alec had widened the bed of boughs so it would accommodate four. Owen took one side. Annie slept between him and Daniel, her hand in her father’s, her husband’s arm around her waist. Curled up against the woodsman was Irene, her back to his, the warmth of his body melting the last of the fear from her heart.
Before they settled in, though, Owen hesitantly framed a question.
“Say, lad, you think you’ll be up and around by Saturday?”
“What’s today?”
“Wednesday.”
“Sure. How come?”
“Well, Carolyn really did want to get married in June...”
His daughter’s arms were strangling him. “You waited? You waited for me?”
“Silly child, of course we did!”
Chapter 72
John Patrick and Brian stood watch while Alec slept for the first time in three days. Tommy woke and took Brian’s place but when he would have roused his son, John Patrick stopped him.
“Let the lad sleep. He’s done more than his share.”
At sunrise they were all up, and as Annie disappeared into the forest with Irene and the clean clothes she’d brought, Alec and Tommy spread the gifts out on the grass so they could see what was there. Daniel picked a pair of intricately-designed blankets and a ritual basket, as well as a rugged white pony.
When Annie returned, he could only stare at her—she was dressed as Irene was, in blue denims, shirt and corduroy jacket. She wore heavy socks but no shoes. She flashed a smile at him and ran to his side. “How come you never told me how comfortable your clothes are?”
He didn’t answer but continued to stare at her, until his father made a sound in his throat. Daniel pulled himself together with an effort. “It’s your turn, aroon. Pick out anything you like.”
She reached for a pair of calf-high moccasins and pulled them on. Then she chose three small baskets in shades of blue and ochre, and a delicate necklace of several silver strands. For Jake, the woodsman selected a velveteen shirt and a pinto pony. He offered Alec a fine bay mare.
“And anything else you want,” he added. The silversmith chose a wide bracelet studded with turquoise nuggets. Daniel saw Brian eyeing a pair of buckskin boots and handed them to him with a knowing laugh. “The kid convinced you, hey?” His brother grunted in response.
“Anything you like, Dad? Owen? Tommy?” His father selected a pair of moccasins for himself and a bracelet for Molly as Tommy helped himself to an oak and hickory bow. But Owen refused the offer, stating that he wanted nothing whatsoever to remind him of their “adventure.”
Lastly the woodsman picked out a delicate silver ring and slipped it onto the middle finger of Irene’s right hand, murmuring thanks and pinching her cheek. “See anything else?”
“Well...”
“Go ahead, mavourneen. Whatever it is, it’s yours.”
She stepped to the blanket and touched a soft buckskin dress, beaded at the bodice, which Daniel knew had been made to sell to tourists. “Could I have this?” At his nod, she picked it up and rubbed the soft leather against her face.
“You’ll need these to go with it,” Alec said, and offered her a pair of moccasins that matched the dress.
She accepted them with a smile. “Thank you, Alec. Thank you for everything.”
Her hand was on his sleeve. He was bewitched by her smile, by her boy’s clothing. H
er eyes, usually so deeply blue, were almost green. He held their gaze for a moment then he turned to watch her brother and his wife.
“De nada,” he replied. It was nothing. There was no debt, for between them, they’d saved his life. But he could see that Irene didn’t understand. He closed his hand over hers. “I had a debt to pay,” he told her, his voice deep and smooth and rich.
“You would have done it anyway. He’s your friend.”
“Yes. As is she. As are you.”
She beamed at him. “Let’s go help.”
Alec fashioned hackamores for the ponies, tied them to two long ropes so he and his father could lead them. One wagon was packed with the gifts; Brian helped Daniel up into the other and cushioned his back with blankets. Annie climbed in beside him, while Owen took the driver’s seat. Irene rode beside her father in the other wagon. They’d gone a mile when John Patrick pulled his team up and shouted at the passengers in Owen’s wagon. “Which way?”
“Sidhean Annie!” Daniel cried. He turned to his wife and wrapped his good arm around her, nuzzled into her hair. “Home,” he whispered. “I want to go home.”
She gave a long sigh. Home. A hot bath and her own bed. Her man beside her every night. Herself, her husband, and their little boy. And the small old voice that had returned to assure her, He will be with you for as long as you live.
She sighed again and whispered, as if in prayer or benediction,
“Home.”
The End
Afterword
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed this book. If so, I’d appreciate it if you’d share it on your favorite social media site, or recommend it to your local library or book club.
The best way for new readers to find an author is by reading reviews. If you think others might enjoy this novel, then please consider writing a review. Just a sentence or two of what you think is all it takes.
Did you like the characters? the plot? Did you find the story believable? inspirational? boring? Are you looking forward to reading new books in the series, or picking up the previous ones? Did something in the story impress? dismay? surprise? Your honest opinion would mean the world to me.
For updates on new releases, sales, and other promos, you can follow me on any of the book review sites mentioned above, or sign up for my newsletter here. If you’re interested in getting new releases before they’re available to the general public, I’d love to have you join my ARC team. Simply contact me through my website, or by email: [email protected].
Thank you so much,
Giff MacShane
Works by Gifford MacShane
Donovan Family Saga
Whispers in the Canyon
The Winds of Morning
The Woodsman’s Rose
Watch for more at:
https://giffordmacshane.com
About the Author
Gifford MacShane is the author of historical fiction that celebrates the resilience of the human spirit. Her novels feature a family of Irish immigrants who settle in the Arizona Territory. With an accessible literary style, MacShane draws out her characters' hidden flaws and strengths as they grapple with physical and emotional conflicts.
Singing almost before she could talk, MacShane always loved folk music, whether Irish, Appalachian, or the songs of cowboys. Her love of the Old West goes back to childhood, when her father introduced her to Zane Grey. She became interested in Irish history after realizing her ancestors had lived through the Great Potato Famine. She’s combined these three interests into a series of romances, each with traditional song lyrics and a dash of Celtic mysticism.
The Donovan Family Saga includes Whispers in the Canyon (Book 1), The Woodsman’s Rose (Book 2), and The Winds of Morning, a prequel novella requested by her fans. The fourth book, Rainbow Man, will be forthcoming in 2021.
MacShane is a member of the Historical Novel Society and is an #OwnVoices writer. An avid gardener, Giff cultivates pollinator plants and grows tomatoes (not enough) and zucchini (too much). A self-professed grammar nerd, Giff currently lives in Pennsylvania with her husband Richard, the Pied Piper of stray cats.
Acknowledgments
To my mother, Janet, and my husband, Rich, for their unwavering support;
to the ladies of the Prose & Precision group for their thoughtful input and suggestions;
to Noreen Bennett, Sheila Davis, and Mary Higginson for their keen vision and opinions;
to James and Toni for making sure I got my facts straight—
to all of you, I offer my utmost gratitude.
What Reviewers say about the
DONOVAN FAMILY SAGA:
- Historical Novel Society :
The intricate dynamics of the Donovan family become the centerpiece of the story; the family’s Irish heritage becomes the heartbeat of the story.
- The Coffee Pot Book Club:
Set during the 19th Century in Arizona, Whispers in the Canyon appalls, impresses and makes a reader swoon at the romance in equal measures. It was an enthralling love story that made this book wholly unforgettable and next to impossible to put down.
- Author Pam Laughlin:
MacShane not only gives us a wonderful character-driven story based with characters to root for, but tackles difficult topics like physical and sexual abuse with a sensitive touch based on emotional reaction rather than graphic detail.
- Author Nicki LaFoille:
I was impressed as much by the thread of family that ties everything together. She perfectly captures the eternal love of siblings and the deep, deep annoyance, and weaves historical details into the narrative seamlessly. Whispers in the Canyon is a story about family, how sometimes it takes a village, about kindness and generosity and patience. And a whole bunch of twangy, sexy Irish cowboys.
FROM GOODREADS REVIEWS:
- This book held my attention from the very beginning. The author wrote a storyline that made me feel I was involved and knew each character. Each character was fabulous and unique in each of their parts.
- I loved this book. A mixture of Irish & the Old West, tells a tale of love and heartbreak.
- Absolutely breathtaking. A fabulous story of human struggle. I felt every range of emotion reading this book: love, joy, hope, grief, anger. Utterly perfect and definitely a book I will be revisiting again and again.
- It is not just a romance but a story of deep enduring love that is tested by doubts and fears.
- Loved this book with a capital L. The story and characters are filled with so much love I can't imagine anyone could feel any differently. It brought me to tears more than once and I will look forward to discovering more from this author.
FROM AMAZON REVIEWS:
- Amazing! A fascinating story of a large Irish family who settled in Arizona. I will read this one again!!
- I would definitely recommend Whispers in the Canyon. It is a very sweet story of loss pain and family.
- The biggest draw for me was the large family atmosphere and their relationships. There are always ups and downs but the unique connections are interesting to read.
- The Winds of Morning Wonderful! It gives more history of the potato famine in Ireland and how Molly and John Patrick met and married. Loved it!
- Gifford MacShane pens a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching, romance novel in Whispers in the Canyon. This novel is one of the most well-written and well-developed books I have read in a long time. The characters are written with refined and defined eloquence. Penned with transparency, the characters' secrets, hopes, thoughts, silent pleas, and even fear-ridden nightmares are exposed.
- A beautiful and heartfelt piece of fiction that goes beyond the simple western romance to deliver a tender, emotional and psychological tale of one woman’s bravery in a time when few people really cared or appreciated such strength. Overall, I would certainly recommend Whispers in the Canyon for fans of realistic historical romance and emotionally accomplished fiction.
A Short Glossary of Irish Ter
ms
This book encompasses a time when Irish people were forbidden to speak, read or write in their native language. Words were whispered and passed down secretly from generation to generation, and came to be spelled phonetically. “Mo chroi” became “Machree”; “mo chuisle” became “Macushla”, etc. It is those spellings I’ve decided to use in this historical saga.
Aroon: my dear or sweetheart
Arrah: beloved (from “grādh”)
Asthore: treasure (from “stōr”)
Asthoreen: little treasure (as above)
Bawn: fair of skin, also beautiful
Colleen: girl or young woman
Machree: my heart
Macushla: my pulse/lifeblood, also “acushla” *
Mavourneen: my darling/beloved (from “muirnīn”)
In my books, the Donovan family uses “macushla” when this endearment is directed to the females, “acushlah” for the males. This is a little quirk that, as far as I know, occurs only in my family.
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