Judith E French (37 page)

“Where were you going?” Caitlin demanded. “I was worried sick. You know I would never let Derry off by herself with all these people around. She could have been run over by a wagon or—”

“She wasn’t alone,” Justice said as he slid off the rump of Shane’s horse. “She was with me.”

“And good care you’ve taken of her,” Caitlin replied angrily. “Didn’t you know I’d be hunting for you both?”

“What for?” The boy’s dark eyes were full of venom. “So you could give her away?”

“Justice!” Shane admonished. “Don’t talk to—”

“I heard ya!” Justice answered. “Derry is my sister. She stays with me on Kilronan.”

Derry’s bottom lip quivered. “I never be a bad boy no more.”

“Any more,” Caitlin corrected. “And you’re a girl, darling, not a boy.” Caitlin took the child from Shane. “Look at you,” she fussed. “You look a sight. I’ll have to wash your hair again and give you—”

“No!” Derry wailed. “Don’t give me away!”

Caitlin cradled the little girl against her. “It’s not like that,” she soothed. “I would never—”

“Yes, you would,” Justice said. “You don’t care nothin’ about either of us.”

Shane dismounted and reached for the boy, but Mary appeared around the corner of the shelter and he fled into her arms.

“Mary, speak to him,” Shane said. “Make him understand—”

“Justice understand good,” Mary replied. “He don’t like what you say. He not want you give Derry to Irishman.”

Shane stiffened. “I’m not goin’ to.”

Caitlin caught sight of a tall man and a woman and children walking toward the lean-to. “Shane, look.” She took a few hesitant steps toward the approaching group.

“Caitlin?” the woman called.

“Maureen?” Caitlin gave Derry to Shane and ran to throw her arms around her sister. “Maureen! Is it really you?”

“Caitlin, Caitlin!”

After hugs and kisses and a frenzy of greetings, Caitlin stepped back to study her sister. Maureen’s clothing was not as expensive as it had been before the famine, but it was stylish. Her waist, which had always been small, even after Derry’s birth, was definitely thicker. “Oh, Maury,” Caitlin said. “Are you …”

Maureen laughed. “Yes, I am.” She caught hold of Liam Shaughnessy’s arm. “Liam and I are expecting our first child. You remember Liam, don’t you? He’s Thomas’s older brother. He used to live in Limerick with his wife’s family.”

“My Hilde died of fever,” Liam explained. “I brought the little ones home for my mother to care for.”

Caitlin glanced at the half-grown children standing behind Liam and staring at her. “Can that be Brigid?”

“Yes,” Maureen answered. “She’s twelve and a great
help, I can tell you.” Maureen squeezed her husband’s arm. “And that’s Brett.” She pointed to a fair-haired boy a half head taller than Brigid. “Alma,” she continued, pointing to a fair-haired girl about ten who was dandling a baby boy on her hip. “And Albert, Alma’s twin. You should remember the twins. We went to their christening.”

“Brigid, Brett, Alma, Albert,” Caitlin murmured. “And the baby?”

“Baird, but we all call him Bay-Bay for short.” Maureen let go of her husband to take the black-haired baby. “He’s usually such a lamb,” she said, “but he’s been teething for weeks.”

Caitlin noticed how much little Baird looked like Derry. “Yes,” she replied. “Teething can be a trial. On the ship, Derry was …” She broke off, unable to continue.

Maureen never noticed. “Baird is Thomas’s, but we never mention that. Do we, Liam? It couldn’t have worked out better for us—considering. When we fell in love, we wanted to come to America so that we could marry. But we hadn’t the money.” She took a breath and went on. “Liam’s first wife’s brother John was a solicitor, and John suggested that we appeal to Father’s old employer, Lord Carlston.”

“Your father worked for him for thirty-odd years,” Liam said. “It was only fair that Lord Carlston do something for his faithful manager’s orphaned daughters.”

Caitlin felt confused. “Lord Carlston gave you money?”

“Only a little,” Liam replied. “Enough to buy passage for us.”

“I’m afraid I spent your share as well, sister,” Maureen explained. “America is so expensive. Liam had the oxen
to buy, and a wagon and plow. Supplies are dear, very dear, indeed. And with seven children to—”

“Seven?” Caitlin added again. Even with Derry, she counted only six.

Maureen laughed. “Donald and Doyle are five-year-old twins and such a handful. I left them with Mrs. O’Leary. She’s our neighbor in the next wagon.”

“Salt of the earth, the O’Learys,” Liam added.

“You must let me introduce you to my family,” Caitlin said. “Our camp is a little rough, but Independence is so crowded that it’s impossible to find a decent place to stay for only a few—”

“Don’t say another word.” Maureen cut her off with a patronizing smile. “Mr. McKenna, I remember well. How do you do.” She nodded coolly. “I believe you and dear Liam have already met.”

Caitlin felt a flush of anger warm her cheeks. Maureen had always thought Shane was low class, and it was plain by her expression that she’d seen nothing to change her mind.

“And here is Derry,” Caitlin said awkwardly. “Hasn’t she grown?”

Shane held the child tightly.

Caitlin struggled for control of her emotions. “This is our son, Justice, and his grandmother, Mrs. Red Jacket.”

“Derry!” Maureen reached for her daughter, but the child clung to Shane’s neck like a mussel to a rock. “Give Mama a kiss,” Maureen pleaded.

“She’s wonderful,” Caitlin said. “You can be very proud of her.”

“No!” Derry screamed. “No! No! No!” Then she turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Maureen. “I hate you!”

“A precious child,” Liam mumbled.

Alma whispered to Brigid. Brett snickered.

Maureen leaned close to kiss Derry’s cheek, but Derry struck at her with her fist and buried her face in Shane’s neck. All Maureen got was a soggy braid.

Justice moved to his father’s side and folded his arms over his chest. “She’s ours,” Justice insisted.

“Mind your manners,” Caitlin said to him. “Please, Maureen, Mr. Shaughnessy, you must come in and have some coffee.”

“No,” Liam answered. “We can’t. I know this is abrupt, but our wagon train leaves at dawn tomorrow. There are many things that must be done before that. I wish I could give you more time with your sister, but—”

“We must settle our business,” Maureen said. “I know that you will find this hard to understand but …”

Her husband pulled a small bag from his pocket and held it out to Shane. “Here’s some money, not much but—”

“Keep your damned money, Shaughnessy,” Shane said gruffly. “We want no money for Derry.”

“It’s only fair,” Liam argued.

Maureen laid a hand on her husband’s. “Now, Liam, dear, if they don’t want the money, don’t force it on them.” She turned to Caitlin with a stiff smile. “It’s just that we have seven children already and another on the way. Dear Liam has been so understanding about Baird, but … Frankly, Caitlin, you can see how he’d be reluctant to take on the responsibility of another girl.”

“You don’t want Derry?” Caitlin grabbed Shane’s arm to steady herself. “You don’t—”

“Baird will be of use on the new farm,” Liam explained, “but Derry—”

“Derry’s fine where she is,” Shane grated.

“You’re sure?” Caitlin asked her sister. “I can keep her?”

“Well, she does seem … robust,” Maureen said. “And a year is so long. What with the new baby and dear Liam’s motherless babes …”

“Good decision,” Mary said. “Better we keep Derry, you go Oregon.”

“Exactly,” Liam agreed.

Caitlin could only nod her head and wrap her arms around Shane and Derry and Justice.

“Unless you’d like to consider joining our group and traveling on to Oregon,” Liam suggested hesitantly. “If you have the money for an outfit, I’m sure you could better yourself by going west.”

“No,” Shane said quietly. “We’ve got all we need, right here in Missouri.”

“Well, that’s it, then,” Maureen said. “I take it your address will remain the same? Kilronan, general delivery, Kane’s Crossroads?”

Caitlin nodded again. “It will.”

“Then there’s just one thing more. Brigid?” She glanced at her daughter. “I want to give you this, sister. By rights, Papa’s Bible should be mine, but space is limited in the wagon.”

“Thank you,” Caitlin whispered.

It was Maureen’s turn to blush. “There are some letters in there, letters that were addressed to you.” Brigid handed her mother a leather-bound Bible, and Maureen passed it on to Caitlin.

“To me?” Caitlin asked.

“Yes.” Maureen sighed. “From Mr. McKenna. They came for you after he left Ireland. Papa hid them. He didn’t want you to go to America and leave us.”

Caitlin’s hands trembled so that she could hardly turn the pages. There, pressed into the center of the Bible, were several faded letters.

“Those are mine,” Shane said. “Uncle Jamie wrote them for me. I’m not … not too handy with writin’.”

“No, I imagine not,” Maureen said. “Dear Liam writes a beautiful hand.”

Shane ignored her comment. “What about the money I sent for Caity’s passage? It was nearly two years’ wages.”

“All gone,” Maureen replied. “Papa was no thief. You must realize that. But times were very hard, and so many homeless people came begging to our door.”

“He spent my money,” Shane said.

“I’m afraid so. But it went for a good cause. I hope you can forgive him. He simply couldn’t bear to lose his daughter to a McKenna.”

Caitlin looked up into Shane’s face. “You did send for me.”

“You won’t hold this against Papa, will you, Caitlin?” Maureen asked. “It was the distance as much as your marriage to an uneducated Catholic boy.”

“I can forgive Papa if my husband can forgive my doubting him all these years,” Caitlin said, never taking her gaze from Shane. “Can you?”

“I can,” he answered, pulling her even closer against him, “considerin’ my own doubts.”

“Now what?” Justice demanded.

“Now we go home,” Caitlin said. “Home to Kilronan.”

“Me, too?” Derry demanded, wiping a teary eye.

Shane leaned down and kissed Caitlin tenderly. “All of us,” he said huskily.

“Can I have a baby wolf?” Derry asked.

But Caitlin couldn’t answer. She was too full of happiness
for words and too busy kissing Shane McKenna—her husband—and the finest broth of a man it had ever been her good fortune to meet.

Seven years later, on a hot Friday afternoon, Caitlin stood on the porch at Kilronan and watched as Shane, Justice, and six-year-old Rory rode in from the City of Jefferson. They’d been gone a week, and Caitlin and Derry couldn’t wait to tell them the news.

“Caity!” Shane rose in the stirrups and waved to her.

“Mama! Mama!” Rory cried. “Papa bought me a puppy!”

“Where is it?” Derry, almost eleven, forgot her newfound dignity and ran, skirts flying, from the porch to greet her father and brothers.

“We don’t have it yet,” Rory shouted. “It’s too little to leave its mother. Mr. Steele will bring it next week.”

Derry bubbled over with questions. “What color is the puppy? Did you name it? Did you bring me anything, Papa?”

Shane swung down from the saddle and swept his daughter up in his arms. “Were you good? You get nothin’ if you were bad while I was gone.”

“Oh, Papa, I’m always good,” she replied saucily. “And you’ll never guess—Rachel had two babies at one time! Twins, a boy and a girl.”

Caitlin left the rose-covered porch and met Shane
halfway down the walk. “Welcome home, husband.” She raised her face for a kiss.

“Are you all right?” he demanded, enfolding her in his powerful arms. “The baby is—”

She nodded. “I’m fine, and the baby’s fine. Kicking like a yearling colt.” She’d suffered an early miscarriage when Rory was four and hadn’t become pregnant again until this past winter. Now, at five months along, she was certain she’d passed the most dangerous time, but she still hadn’t wanted to risk the trip to Jeff City.

Shane grinned and kissed her tenderly. “Missed you somethin’ fierce.”

“And we missed you—all three of you.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Did you remember my trunk?”

“Trunk? What trunk?” His brow furrowed. “I don’t—”

“It’s on the packhorse, Ma,” Justice said, coming up behind Shane and giving Caitlin a quick hug. “The last of the stuff you brought from Ireland.”

She sniffed. “And eight long years it took him to get them all here. I can’t even remember what’s in this one.”

Justice shrugged. “See, Ma, how bad could you have needed all that stuff in the first place?”

“Go ahead, take up for your father,” she said. “You always do.”

“But I love you best,” he teased.

At eighteen, Justice was nearly a man. He’d never be as tall as Shane, but he was lean, tough as a rawhide whip, and as darkly handsome as Caitlin had suspected he would be. He was a son to be proud of, she thought. No one would recognize him as the same sullen-faced boy she’d met when she first came to Missouri.

Shane had just finished a three-year contract to supply mounts for the U.S. Cavalry. This trip to the City of
Jefferson had been necessary to receive his final payment from the government.

“Is supper ready?” Rory hurled himself through the gate and wiggled between his mother and father.

“What, no kisses?” Caitlin asked.

“Aw, Mama.” Rory hugged Caitlin with all his might. “I’m too big for kissing.”

“We’re starvin’,” Shane said. “We ate a cold breakfast on the trail and rode straight through.”

“You got the money?” Caitlin asked.

“Paid in full,” he assured her, “with the bonus on every head.”

“Glory,” she said. “We’re rich. Did you wire the money to Philadelphia? When Gabe rode over to tell us about the twins, he said that there had been another bank robbery.”

Missouri was growing by leaps and bounds, but lately there had been a lot of ill feelings between slave and anti-slave factions in the state. Lawless gangs of men robbed and burned outlying farms and drove off livestock. Kilronan and the larger spreads had been spared attack, but Shane made it a practice to wire their profits to the Bank of Philadelphia.