by Liz Harris
‘That’s right, sister.’ Clear-blue eyes looked up at her, amusement dancing in their depths. ‘Do come and join us.’
She got a mug for herself, poured a coffee, put the pot in the centre of the table and sat down between Connor and Niall.
‘Now,’ Connor went on. ‘Maybe you’d tell us the real reason why you’ve come back to Liberty.’
Niall picked up his coffee. ‘Like I just said, you and me, running the homestead together. I’m thinkin’ that sounds a real good idea.’
‘And I’m thinking something different,’ Connor said quietly. ‘You never took to farm work, and that’s why you left. It’s always been cattle you wanted. And not just a small ranch at that – you wanted to go into cattle in a big way. You and Jeb, you went on every drive that you could, and you were forever up at his ranch, working with his pa’s cattle when you should’ve been working here with us. And what I’m thinking is, you’re not gonna suddenly take to homesteading now.’
‘This farm’s as much mine as yours, brother. More so, in fact – I came along a year ahead of you, in case you’ve forgotten,’ Niall said, his voice steady.
‘I haven’t forgotten anything. I haven’t forgotten how you walked out the day after Pa was laid to rest in the cemetery aside of Ma, and how you left me to run the place by myself, still a lad and not yet married. Didn’t want to be trapped, you said. You walked out without one thought about me and what it would do to my life. There wouldn’t be any farm today if I’d gone after my freedom like you did. So as far I’m concerned, you lost your rights to this farm on that day. This is my home now, not yours. I’ve earned it.’ He stood up. ‘You can bed down here for a few days, but then I’ll expect you to move on.’
Niall sat back in his chair and smiled at Ellen. ‘Your husband sure is a hard man,’ he said, shaking his head. He looked up at Connor. ‘I’ll grant you that, Conn. The homestead would be long gone if it weren’t for you. But it is still here, and as it is, I do still see myself as having rights.’ He finished the last of his coffee, got up and stretched. ‘We’ll talk some more tomorrow. I’m ready to bunk down now. Am I gonna be in our old room?’
‘Bridget’s got our room,’ Connor said, ‘and Ellen and I are in Ma and Pa’s room. Ellen will make you a bed in here. I’ll put your horse in the barn for the night and we can talk in the morning, since you seem to want to do so. But whatever you’re planning on saying, Niall, you’ll not be staying here for long.’
The sun was sliding above the horizon, driving the chill from the early morning air, as Conn stepped out of the house. He paused and looked around him for a moment or two. Niall was over by the fence, leaning against it, staring towards the creek. Connor strolled over to the fence and leaned beside him.
Twisting a piece of straw in his fingers, Niall continued to stare ahead. Conn’s eyes followed the direction of Niall’s gaze. A light translucent vapour hung low over the water that wound across the milky-white meadow and veiled with silvery gauze the cottonwood trees and trembling aspens that grew on the other side of the river.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Connor said. ‘The river sure is beautiful at this time of day. At any time of day. And when the aspens are changing from yellow to the deep red of fall – and you’ll see that they’re doing that now, when the mist rises – the view is something you’d have to go a long way to beat. I never tire of looking at it.’ He turned to Niall. ‘You must’ve missed it, being so far from home for so long. Leastways, I’m thinking you must’ve been miles away since we’ve seen neither hide nor hair of you since you left.’
‘Yup, the river is a mighty pretty sight,’ Niall said, nodding. ‘Almost as good as the sight of sunup on the open range when you’re on the back of your horse, breathing in the earthy scent of wet ground and of sagebrush that’s too new even to be used for building a fire. And you’re sittin’ up there, watchin’ a thousand head of cattle – your cattle – grazin’ out on the grass as far as the eye can see.’ He turned to Connor. ‘Now that sure is a sight that takes some beating.’
Connor grinned at him. ‘Why, you almost make that sound like a challenge, and you know how much I like a challenge. Let me think …’ He eyed Niall with amusement. ‘Since I can’t rustle up a thousand head of cattle to gladden your eye, I’ve come up with something else that might be a pleasing sight for you to behold until you go back to your ranch and get the view you hanker after. I’m seeing in my head eighty acres of ripe golden wheat, stretching out to the horizon, just waiting to be harvested. Now what do you say to that vision?’
Niall put his head on one side and screwed up his forehead in thought. ‘Nope,’ he said at last. ‘The cattle still comes first, and for my second choice, I’m of a mind to choose the town with all its dust and dirt, and with people coming and going all the time, and playing hands of cards and the like. I guess the river’s no higher than third place. And as for the wheat, I’m sorry, brother, it’s so far down the list I can’t even place it. Nope, I reckon I’ll stay put and admire the third-best view.’
‘OK, Niall. Let’s quit funning now.’ Connor took a step back from the fence. ‘We could use your help, and as you’re staying here a day or two … The temperatures are beginning to drop off and we could be looking at a freeze before too long. We’ve done the hay, chopped the winter wood and gotten the corn in. And now we’ve gotta harvest the wheat real quick if we’re gonna get the ploughing done before the frost comes. If you can remember anything at all about farming, you’ll know that it’s essential to break the sod before the ground hardens, or it won’t be ready for seeding come spring.’
‘I ain’t forgotten how to farm.’
‘But I don’t know that, do I? How would I? You’ve become a stranger to me.’
Niall glanced sideways at Connor. ‘Talkin’ of strangers, where’d you get that wife of yours? Or maybe I should say, why did you take a woman who looks like that for a wife?’
‘We’re not talking about my wife. We’re talking about the wheat. We got ourselves a reaper-binder a few years ago, and that cuts a fair patch on a good day so we don’t need to take on as many men as we used to. But we still need men to shock the bundles, throw them on to the wagon and haul them to the thresher. We’ve obviously hired some men, but we can always use another hand. The more we have, the faster we get it done. The men’ll soon be going out to the wheat fields, and I’m about to hitch up a team of horses to take out to them. What about coming out with us?’
Niall shook his head. ‘I dunno, brother. I just arrived. Seems like I haven’t had time to settle in yet. And think of your gal. Bridget, didn’t you say her name was? She’ll be real anxious to meet her uncle. Nope, I reckon I oughta stay near the house.’
‘She’s finishing getting ready for school,’ Connor said sharply. ‘She’ll be leaving any minute now by the back of the house, so you’ll not be seeing her till tonight. It’s better that way. So, are you gonna help us or not?’
‘I think not. Not today, anyways.’ He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘If I can’t get to know your daughter this morning, I guess I’ll have to make do with your wife. Now, she looks a mighty interesting woman.’ He threw a sly glance at Connor. ‘I guess you knew what you were doing. A woman like that must be real grateful to have a man.’
Connor looked at him, his eyes two shards of ice. ‘Well, she needn’t be. She can farm as good as any other woman. I take it that’s what you meant?’
‘What else?’ Niall raised his hands in helplessness. ‘Yup, that’s what I’ll do; I’ll go and get to know her.’
‘She’s busy. When Bridget’s gone and she’s done her morning chores, she’s gonna be working in the vegetable garden. With winter on the way, she’ll be pulling up any beets, turnips and parsnips she can find. And then she’s gonna dig up the carrots and potatoes. And while she’s doin’ that, she’ll also be making lunch. And not just for us – she’s gotta make lunch for the bundle-haulers, too. She’s a farmer’s wife, Niall, and she’s busy. L
et her be so she can work in peace.’
‘Why, what a hive of activity,’ Niall drawled in tones of exaggerated admiration. ‘Then I’m thinkin’ the best thing I could do is leave you both to get on with everything. After all, you’d have had to do it without me if I hadn’t returned. Isn’t that right?’ He pulled out his watch and glanced at it.
‘I see you’ve still got that old Pitkin watch that Pa gave you,’ Conn said. ‘Thought you would’ve lost it in a poker game or such by now.’
‘Not this ole watch,’ he said, sliding it back into the pocket of his jeans. ‘It’s about all I got from Pa. You got the rest, down to every last cob of corn. This watch is all I got and I’d never so much as wager it. I trust it, and when it tells me that it’s time for me to go for a stroll around the farm and then take myself off into town, I listen to it. And I’m listening to it now.’
‘So you’ll not be helping us today. But that’s not exactly a surprise.’
‘It’s fair worn me out, hearin’ the chores for the day, and I reckon I’d be helpin’ you all if I took myself off to Liberty later this morning and tried to find me a conversation that didn’t involve talking about turnips. That way, I’d be one less mouth for that woman of yours to feed. Yup, that’s what I’ll do.’
‘You haven’t changed, have you, Niall? Not one little bit. You always thought only of yourself, and you still do.’ Connor’s voice was full of disgust.
‘Aw, shucks. That’s hardly the way to talk about your brother. No, sir, it isn’t.’
‘Just tell me one thing before you set off. Ellen felt sure on a couple of occasions that she was being watched. Was that you watching her?’
‘I can’t deny that it was. I wanted to see how you’d gotten on over the years, and to have a look at your wife, before coming into your life again.’
‘What you mean is, you wanted to see if it was worth your while returning. If the farm hadn’t looked thriving, I’m guessing we wouldn’t have been seeing you.’
‘You could be right, brother. But that’s me. You always were the good son. I’m the prodigal son, and the prodigal son is back. I don’t reckon the good son in the Bible was any keener to see his brother than you are to see me. But I kinda hope that when the shock wears off, you’ll feel some degree of pleasure at seeing me again. A more brotherly welcome when I get back from town would be mighty pleasing.’
‘I’ll work on it,’ Conn said dryly.
‘As I may not be back today, you’ve got time to get it right. Keen as I am to meet your daughter and get to know your wife, I may be held up by a different sort of woman. Leastways, I sure hope I will be.’ With a lazy smile, he eased himself away from the fence, put the piece of straw he’d been twisting into his mouth, touched his hat to Connor and strolled off in the direction of the horses’ shed.
Conn stared after him. ‘He’s up to no good, I’m sure,’ he said aloud. ‘But what sort of no good could that be?’
Chapter Thirteen
Ellen stood up and rubbed her back. Every bone in her body ached.
She should have done as Connor suggested and left the vegetable garden until the end of the week when Bridget was home from school and could have helped her with the work. If she’d dug up the potatoes, and Bridget had followed her, picking them up, she’d have gotten through the work much more quickly than she was doing. She probably also would have been able to pull and top the carrots, beets and onions in the time it was taking her to deal with the potatoes alone.
But no, she’d insisted on making a start at once, and now she’d have to break into another day to do what she and Bridget could have done together in less than one.
And there was another reason why it would have been a good idea to have had Bridget working alongside her, she realised as she carried the potatoes over to the wooden chair that she’d brought out from the house.
She dropped the potatoes into a large basket on the ground next to the chair, dragged two empty bins over to the chair, and sat down. Leaning forward, she started to sort out the potatoes, dropping the seed potatoes that she’d later cut up and plant in the furrows into one bin, and the potatoes to be stored for eating throughout the winter into the other.
Yes, she’d missed what could have been an excellent opportunity to spend time alone with Bridget, she scolded herself. It was proving almost impossible to find more than a few moments in which to talk to Bridget in the short evenings after she’d returned from school, and the same was true of the busy weekends. If she was going to break through the lack of closeness between them, and the lack of any warmth and friendliness on Bridget’s part, she needed to take advantage of every genuine reason to spend time with her.
As for Niall, how his return would affect things with Bridget, she had no way of yet knowing.
She sat up and wiped her forehead with her apron. In fact, why was Niall back? And how long was he planning to stay? Not for long, she hoped. In the short amount of time since his return the previous night, the atmosphere in the house had changed.
Connor was on edge in a way that she hadn’t seen before, not even in the early days when he’d been coming to terms with her failure to warn him of her injury. When he’d come to bed the last night, he’d turned straight on to his side, his back to her, and had lain there, motionless. She’d sensed his anxiety and she’d raised herself slightly to look at him, wondering if he wanted to talk, but she’d seen that his eyes were shut and she’d sunk back down again. As they’d lain there in silence, side by side, neither touching the other, his breathing had given him away, and she’d known that he was as wide awake as she was.
And this morning, from the snatches of conversation she’d picked up between Connor and Aaron as she’d been on her way back from the milking, Niall had gone out of his way to provoke Connor before he’d left for town.
Connor was visibly worried about Niall being there, so she was worried, too.
‘Somebody talk to me,’ Bridget said, her voice a whine. ‘Neither of you said a word during dinner, except about food. Usually you never stop. Miss Quinn was acting real funny in school today, and now you are, too.’
Ellen looked to Connor, wondering what he’d say.
‘You must be tired, Bridget,’ Connor said. ‘Now that you’ve eaten, you’ll be wanting to go to bed. It‘s school tomorrow.’
‘It’s too early to go to bed. I want to stay up longer.’
‘And I want you to go to bed,’ Connor said firmly.
‘That’s because you want to talk behind my back. You want to talk about Uncle Niall, don’t you?’ She flung the words at him accusingly.
Connor and Ellen exchanged glances. ‘Who told you about your uncle?’ he asked.
‘Miss Quinn. She thought I already knew about him, and that I knew he was stayin’ with us. She thought my pa would’ve told me. And now you wanna talk to her about him’—she glared at Ellen—‘and not to me, and you don’t want me to hear what you’re saying. But he’s my uncle, not hers, so you should be telling me, not her. It’s only right.’ She turned back to her father. ‘Why didn’t you didn’t tell me I had an Uncle Niall?’
‘Because he’d gone long before you were born, and I thought he’d never be a part of our lives again. When he walked out ten years ago, he said he was goin’ for good, and we’ve not had word from him since the day he left. Your ma and I didn’t decide not to tell you – it just never seemed to come up. Or to be important.’
‘Not important! He’s your brother. He’s my uncle. Is he younger than you?’
‘He’s older by a year. I’m afeared that kinship doesn’t mean much to your uncle. He left the homestead the day after your grandpa was laid to rest beside your grandma. I was just a strip of a lad, but he left me to run the hundred and sixty acres on my own, with just Aaron to help.’
‘What about Ma?’
‘I wed your ma soon after Niall left – we’d been sweethearts for years. She was a good woman, your ma. They were difficult years, working from sun
up to sundown, but she never once complained. I reckon it was her working so hard that killed each of the babies that followed you. If Niall had worked the farm with us, maybe we wouldn’t have had to work so long each day. Maybe you’d have had a brother by now.’
‘I wish Ma was still alive and sitting with us now. Not her.’ Bridget turned and scowled at Ellen, and she saw that Bridget’s green eyes were brimful of tears. ‘I look like Ma, don’t I?’ Bridget said, turning back to Connor.
Connor looked at her face, and nodded slowly. ‘Yup, you do. You’re just like her. And in your ways, too.’ He reached across the table to Bridget and took her hand. ‘You get more and more like her each day, honey,’ he said softly, ‘and that makes me real happy. She was a mighty fine woman.’ Ellen saw Bridget relax. The eyes that looked up at her father were full of love. Then he released her hand and straightened up. ‘Anyway, to go back to Niall, we didn’t expect to hear from him, and we didn’t hear from him. We were busy getting from one day to the next, and we had our sorrows over the years, and he went plumb out of our minds. And that‘s why no one told you about him.’
‘I seen him, you know,’ she said.
Connor stared at her in surprise. ‘You couldn’t have. You were asleep last night when he arrived, and he was outside the house when you were getting up and preparing to leave for school.’
‘I saw him at recess. Miss Quinn came into the yard when we were playing Uncle John. She had a man with her, and we all wondered who he was. Then she called me over and told me that the man was my uncle. I thought she was funnin’ at first and I started to laugh, but she wasn’t. He said something about being pleased to meet me, and I shook hands with him. Then I went back and told Martha.’
‘So Miss Quinn knew that you didn’t know about your uncle,’ Ellen said quietly.
Bridget shrugged her shoulders. ‘I guess so. I don’t know.’
Connor stood up. ‘Niall is obviously staying on in town over night. He thought he might. I’ll check outside now and then lock up. And you must get off to bed, Bridget.’