Texan's Irish Bride

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Texan's Irish Bride Page 13

by Clemmons, Caroline


  “Your parents asked me for no bride price.”

  Thinking to tease him a bit, she said, “Weel, now, it was different for us, but the old custom would be for the young man to work for the girl’s father a year or more before the marriage to earn the bride.”

  Shock showed on his face. “Doing what?”

  “Whatever the bride’s father needed. If her father was a tinker, the young man would learn to repair metal. Or if the father repaired clocks, then the young man would learn to repair clocks. You see? And he got almost no wages, but it all went to the girl’s dowry to give the couple a start in life, and at the same time, the lad learned a living trade.”

  He shook his head in what she suspected to be disbelief. “Good thing we didn’t have to go through that, for I can neither sing nor dance, and I’m spare of words. Don’t think your father could teach me something I’ve no ability for.”

  He’d not be criticizing Da, would he? Much as she knew Da’s shortcomings, she’d allow no one else to list them. “Da’s a great one for talking, so he could teach you. It could be you could learn a bit from him about music, too.”

  He said nothing, only looked at her.

  “Then what’s your custom?”

  “Hmm, it varies. If we went by the custom of the Cherokee—that’s a tribe, um, like a particular clan of Indians—I would have to give your father a bride price for you. Likely it would be horses.”

  She shook her head, wondering at the similarity between these Cherokees and Tom Williams’ methods. Surely it was done differently if the two were examined. “Is that why you asked my family to live here and why you sent food to the Travelers? Is it a bride price you’re paying for me?”

  She saw his anger rise, though he shuttered it soon enough.

  “What do you think?” He asked the question, mayhap trying to sound calm, but she heard the bite in his words.

  A narrow path she walked between knowing the man and not.

  “Sure and I think ‘tis because you’re a fine man with a generous soul.” She pulled him to her. “And I think you should kiss me again.”

  Saints be praised, a genuine smile spread across his mouth and sparks lit those dark brown eyes of his just before his mouth touched hers. Fire spread through her, melting her in a puddle. How did the man make her feel like a pile of pudding bubbling in the pot?

  When he broke the kiss to nibble at her neck in that way that made her toes curl, she said, “Oh, husband, I want so to please you.” She slid her hands across his broad back, enjoying the stroke of his skin against hers.

  “Cenora, my angel, you figured a surefire way.”

  He moved his mouth along her shoulder, and she almost forgot what she wanted to ask him.

  “Angel? That’s what you called me when you were ailing.” Jesus, Mary and Joseph, how could he make her feelings jumble together so with just his hands and mouth?

  “I reckon I was out of my head after I was shot and lying on the ground. I thought you were a sure enough angel, come to take me to heaven.”

  She shoved at him, happy at her lack of success in moving him away. “Saints preserve us, you were out o’ your head.”

  He smiled. “No, you’ve proved you can do it every night. Come on, angel, and take me to heaven again.”

  Later, she lowered the lamp then snuggled back into him. She felt calluses when his large hands slid over her in his sleep. That was why the size of the place had surprised her so. Even now she couldn’t understand why a man with all this had work-roughened hands and only one house servant.

  Ma had told her how the wealthy men in Ireland only rode about and gave orders. And hadn’t they seen men doing that very thing in this land? So what had she expected from this man but a wee cottage with a bit of land in back? Here she lay in a fancy bed in a mansion with land as far as the eye could see in any direction.

  Imagine, her the mistress of such a place as this. The lack of servants surprised her, true, but she wouldn’t mind slaving all day to live here and call it her own. He said they’d get more furniture from all those people. Kathryn, was his aunt, she knew, but the other names defeated her.

  Chairs. They needed more chairs for the table, and she’d like big chairs for them to sit in by the fire. And a rug on the floor downstairs like the one here. Mayhap she could braid a large rag rug. The boys’d be needing beds of their own, and she wanted more furniture in Ma’s and Da’s room.

  Oh, the joy of having her family here. She’d worried so about parting from them, and now they’d be here all safe and snug. There’d be no one chasing them, and for dinner there’d be more than cabbage and potatoes.

  He said he wouldn’t send her away, never look at any woman but her while she was here. Every bit of her wanted to believe him. After all, he seemed a fine man and far better than herself.

  But she knew her family. Dear Da could be a bit too blustery and blathered on and on. And he tended toward interfering and too free with his advice. Sure and wouldn’t her brothers—especially Mac—drive a saint to curse? How soon would Dallas tire of them all?

  To be cast away, forcing her family to leave with her, would be too cruel to bear. How could she protect herself and her family?

  Sainted Mary, Mother o’ God, what am I to do?

  ****

  Finn lay on his blanket near the wagon as he had more nights than he cared to count. He smiled at the full moon that flirted with him through the leaves of a giant cottonwood. A soft spring breeze carried a sweet, clean smell as it brushed over him and rustled tree leaves overhead. He hadn’t felt this at ease since they’d lived in their little cottage back in Ireland. They were invited to stay here, to live in a castle of a house, to make a fresh start. Sure and this was the end of a grand day and the beginning of a new life.

  “Do you not find ‘tis hard to believe our new brother-in-law means to include us in his bounty?”

  From the pallet beside Finn, Mac said, “Aw, he’s after showing off for our sister. He’ll tire of us soon enough, including her, and then she’ll be free to marry Tom.”

  “Are you daft? You know Tom Williams beats his women. Is that what you want for our sister?”

  “Tom said he’d be good to Cenora. He said his wife truly fell, and that’s what killed her.”

  “And I suppose she fell and broke her arm and fell so often she kept bruises all the time.” Anger shot through Finn at his brother’s blindness to Williams’ faults. “Tom is a brute with woman or animal, and I wish to have nothing to do with him. You’re that gullible if you let his swaggering boasts impress you. Wake up, Mac! Tom Williams as cruel to his women as he is to his animals. I’m thankful our sister didn’t marry him. She deserves better. Any woman does.”

  “We’ll see how long McClintock wants her. When she’s cast out from that fancy house, then she’ll be glad to go to Tom, you’ll see. Makes me no nevermind about meself, though. I may stay with the traveling folk where I belong.”

  Not surprised to learn of his brother’s loyalty, especially given Mac’s fondness for Vourneen McDonald, Finn had other plans. “Not me. I’ve always hated this life.”

  Mac raised on his elbow to stare at him. “Go on! You never said a word.”

  Finn crossed his hands behind his head. “What would have been the good? Sure and there was no reason to worry Ma or Da with nothing to be done. No matter how I thought on it, I found no way to strike out on me own.”

  “What? And leave your family?” Mac fell back on his blanket. “Bloody hell, Finn, I don’t believe you’d do it.”

  “Not with Ma and Da stuck in this life and our sister preyed on by that blowhard Tom Williams. We’ll see if this works out.”

  “Not bloody likely that’ll happen.” Mac snorted. “And what could you do, you big lummox? You know nothing else but this.”

  Anger sparked through Finn, but he refused to let his brother spoil his grand day. “Can’t I be learning the same as any other man?” He rose on his elbow to confront his brother. “S
ure and I could get me work on the railroad or as an ostler with a freight company.”

  When he realized his voice had risen enough that others might hear, he lay back on his pallet and calmed. “There’s jobs to be found for a man willing to work hard. Wouldn’t I do anything to get away from this?”

  “Get away? Work hard? After this life?” Mac rose on his elbow again and showed his surprise. “You’d have the devil of a time fitting into a settled man’s work day, up before dawn and slaving until you fall into bed exhausted right after supper. What kind o’ life is that?”

  Finn saw his brother’s incredulous expression, but he’d thought about this too long and knew what he wanted. “My kind.”

  Mac shook his head, apparently still unbelieving. “Have you hated it so much all these years?”

  “Weel, it wasn’t all bad, I suppose, especially before old O’Leary died and Williams forced himself in as leader. But you were too young to remember much o’ our life before we lost our land. It was hard, sure, but a fine feeling it gave a body to sow a crop, watch it grow, and bring it in.”

  Finn didn’t add it was his fault they’d lost their land ten years ago, but sure and he’d felt the weight of guilt ever since. “I want that life again or something better. I hate this wandering about with never enough to eat and no guarantee there’ll be anything on the morrow.”

  “Not me. I’m content.” Mac flopped back on his pallet.

  “Hmph. You’d be more than happy if you could wed Vourneen and tip up her skirts.”

  “True. Christ, I can think of nothing else but getting between Vourneen’s legs. Night and day the feeling’s on me. If Williams weren’t her uncle, I’d have dipped into her honey pot by now.”

  Finn chuckled. “Aye, she’d be willing if she got away from her ma and da. Aren’t you two a pair, panting after each other?”

  “You shouldn’t make fun o’ a man’s misery. One day you’ll feel the same. 'Tis a fact I thought you fancied Maureen.”

  “Sure and I could come to care more for Maureen if we were away from here and she showed more interest in me.”

  “Have you no loyalty to the folks who took us in when we were homeless, who helped us all these ten years?”

  “Aye, they have me thanks for that. But we soon earned our own way, didn’t we?”

  “True, but when the stranger throws our sister and parents out, then what will happen? They’ll be needing the traveling folks again, and then you’ll be sorry you turned your back on them.”

  “No. Ma and Da will never be a part of the Travelers again, and our sister will never belong to Williams. I’ll not leave them until I know that.”

  “Aye, ‘tis best for our sister if her man keeps her and for Ma and Da as well. But I think the buffer will tire of her and send her away.”

  “Not that one. But if he does, I’ll take care o’ them until Cenora weds another. I’ll not leave as long as I’m needed. After that, they’ll have to understand I have needs o’ me own no matter how ungrateful they think me.”

  Mac waited a minute, and his voice leveled. “You need not feel disloyal to Ma and Da, Finn, if going on somewhere else is what you want.”

  “Mac, I can’t help wanting to get away from this life anymore than you can help lathering after Vourneen. But if Ma and Da settle here with Cenora and it looks as if things will work out...,” he trailed off, feeling selfish for speaking his dreams.

  “You’ll be free,” Mac finished for him.

  “Aye, free.” At last, Finn thought. And what a wondrous thought that was.

  He realized this might be his last night with the wagons or sleeping near them. The knowledge called up memories, not all of them unpleasant, but he had no regret at leaving. None at all, though it surprised him to take in that he'd miss seeing Maureen. Miss her a lot, but more important things drove him.

  “Ma and Da won’t be at the whim o’ Williams ever again, and isn’t that a grand thing?” Finn said. “And we won’t have to fear passing a town or listen to people yell ‘tinker’ or ‘thieves’ as we pass. Do you realize I’m nigh twenty-five, and I’ve never slept in a room by meself, never had a proper set of clothes, and that until tonight, I’d never eaten in a proper dining room?”

  “So you’re after wanting to set yourself up as part o’ a settled family like McClintock, is it, with a big house filled with rooms and no furniture?” Mac’s tone left no doubt of his scorn for Dallas McClintock and his kin. “What makes you think he’ll keep our sister, or that she’ll ever be accepted by the people he knows?”

  “Our brother-in-law may be a quiet one, but he must have many riches to own a house such as his even if he has no furniture. He’s good to our sister for all that he was tricked into marrying her, and now he’s extended his bounty to our parents and even to us. And isn’t his family near to be helping out if need be?”

  “What a bit of sess,” Mac bit out.

  “No, a bit of luck,” Finn snapped back. “I’ll never speak Sheldroo again. I’m for being a settled man now.”

  Mac rolled with his back to Finn, muttering his disagreement under his breath.

  Finn didn’t care, for he meant every word he’d spoken. Finally, his family had struck good fortune instead of bad. Smiling again at the moon overhead, he drifted to sleep planning his future.

  ****

  Dallas awoke to the familiar creaks and jangles of wagons, but nothing moved. A proud rooster crowed a greeting for the day, and a cow bawled to be milked. Disoriented for a few moments, Dallas soon realized the noise came from outside his home, and he lay in his own bed.

  Beside him his wife slept, her face serene and innocent as a babe’s. Remembering the way she’d danced before their night of passion, he figured she was anything except innocent. He slipped from bed and pulled on his clothes then picked up his boots. He’d wash downstairs so as not to disturb her.

  When he reached the kitchen, Finn and Aoife stood staring at the kitchen range. Brendan, not usually an early riser, sat in a chair at the kitchen table rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “Top of the morning.” Dallas dropped his boots and stuffed his feet into them.

  Three voices repeated in unison, “And the rest o’ the day to yourself.”

  “We never saw the like o’ this stove beastie,” Finn said. “We know not whether to feed coal into it or run from it.”

  “If you’re as hungry as I am, we’d best stoke it with fuel.” He opened the door and added more coal to the warm embers and coaxed the fire back to life.

  Moving from old routine, he had a coffee pot going on top of the stove, biscuits baking in the oven, and bacon frying in a skillet on top of the range by the time Cenora hurried into the kitchen. She wore her green dress and had tied her hair with a ribbon to let it hang free down her back. He smiled at the picture she presented all fresh from their bed.

  “I’ve never slept so late in me life.” She blushed, as if remembering it had been almost morning before she fell asleep exhausted from their lovemaking.

  Aoife sat beside her husband at the breakfast table Dallas had used as his dough board. She smiled at her daughter. “Sure and wasn’t it lovely for your da and me to sleep in such a fine bed? I rested better than I have in years and so did Himself.”

  Dallas nodded to his wife, who looked good enough to eat this morning, and hoped his thoughts remained secret instead of blazed across his face. She stood beside him, so he said softly, for her ears only, “Good thing breakfast preparations keep me busy, or I’d have even more trouble keeping my hands from you or my desire from showing plain.”

  “Shhh,” she whispered. She rocked back and forth on her feet and almost shouted, “Show me how to work this cook stove, and I’ll take over the breakfast.”

  “No, I’ll cook this morning. It’s faster than a lesson in operating the range.” He leaned near her and spoke softly near her ear. “Can’t show you what I’d like to here and now, but we’ll have tonight.”

  She blushed again
but slid her hand along his arm as she turned to sit beside her mother. The others in the room stared at his every move. He might as well be on stage.

  Used to solitude, Dallas hated these people staring at him while he worked. He needed a distraction for his audience before his wife distracted him more.

  “Maybe Ma would like to see the house while I finish up our meal.” It still felt odd to call Aoife by the name she preferred.

  “Now wouldn’t that be lovely.” Aoife rose slowly and nodded to her husband. “Come with us, will ye, Brendan.”

  Cenora grabbed her mother’s hand. “Come, Ma, before you’re too tired for the stairs. Let me show you the fine room I slept in and where Mac and Finn will bide.”

  Finn looked at Dallas. “You need me here, or should I go in case Ma needs help. Da’s not strong, and Mac is out seeing to the mules.”

  “Go on with them and pick out your room. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re back.”

  After the meal, Cenora stood. “’Tis time you men left me to clear up the mess.”

  “I’ll go talk with Xavier and be back in an hour.”

  ****

  Cenora heard her father and brothers in the big room and then the screen door slapped as Finn and Mac left. No doubt Da would have a little nap or be nosing about in the room Dallas called his office. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and wondered if she should warn Da to behave.

  “Now don’t fash yourself, lass,” Ma said. “I warned your da not to be prying and poking into things that are none o’ his business. And I cautioned him not to offer advice unless he’s asked.”

  Heat of a guilty flush spread across Cenora’s face. “I don’t want anything to ruin this, Ma. Think what a life we can have here as long as Dallas abides us.”

  “He seems pleased enough with you, or he’d not have asked us to stay also.”

  A sickness crept over her. Sure and didn’t she think the same at first, but later it came to her what her husband was about. “No, don’t you see? Ma, I told you I overheard him tell that big man he never wanted me for a wife. He wondered if I’d even stay. With you and our wagons here, ‘twill be easy to send me away.”

 

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