Chapter 25
“Can you ever forgive me, Caity?” Shane took hold of Caitlin’s shoulders and stared into her tear-stained face. God help him, he loved his wife more than his hope of salvation, and he’d believed her a liar and an adulteress.
How could he have misjudged her so? And why had he been too stubborn to see what a pure and good woman she was? He’d made her life hell, when he’d been the only one to break their marriage vows.
“You’re the one person in my life who never betrayed me, and I couldn’t believe you were telling me the truth about Derry,” he said.
She laid her head on his chest, hiding her tears. “I kept telling you she was Maureen’s child.”
He rocked her against him and swore softly. “Yell at me, woman. Call me names. Tell me what a block-headed fool I’ve been.”
She sniffed. “You’re doing pretty good on your own.”
He kissed the crown of her head. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. I wronged you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Oh, Shane.” She began to weep again. “Derry . . .”
“They can’t have her.”
“But my sister loves Derry, too. How can we keep her from Maureen?”
“Your sister gave birth to her, but she lost her rights to Derry when she sent her to America with you. You can’t trade kids back and forth like used saddles. She’s ours now.”
“But Maureen gave her to me to keep her from starving.”
“We haven’t discussed Derry with them yet. This Liam seems a reasonable man,” Shane said, trying to calm Caitlin. “Maybe they’d be content to settle here in Missouri if I gave them a hundred acres.”
“You’d trade part of Kilronan for Derry?”
“Gladly,” he answered, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Shaughnessy had said he meant to take his family over the plains and mountains to Oregon. Anything could happen to a three-year-old child on the journey. Images of cholera and Indian attack rose like specters in Shane’s mind.
What if Derry wandered off on the prairie? Would Liam Shaughnessy have enough sense to track down a lost child, or would he abandon her to keep up with the wagon train?
“Damn it, Caity, I’m her father,” Shane said before he realized that he was speaking his feelings aloud. “I love the both of you, and I’m not about to give either of you to someone else.”
Caitlin wiped her eyes. “We can’t think of ourselves, Shane. We have to do what’s best for Derry. Maybe we’re being selfish.”
“We’re best for Derry.”
“I can’t break Maureen’s heart.” Caitlin’s restless hands moved over her patched skirt.
Mary had washed and mended the rips in Caity’s once elegant riding habit. The garment was fit for a decent woman to wear in public, but it would never pass for a fine lady’s dress again. And his Caity, who he’d thought was too delicate for life in Missouri, had proved far tougher than her clothing.
“You said she was expecting another child when you left County Clare,” Shane reasoned. “If the baby lived, then this Liam already has one stepchild to feed. He may not want another.” He reached for a saddlebag and a bedroll. “To hell with them. We’ll take our kids and ride for Kilronan.”
“No.” Caity’s pain was so evident that he wanted to smash his fist into a log wall to stop his own hurting. “We can’t do that. It would be dishonest,” she cried.
He flung the saddlebag and blanket to the rough plank floor. “I thought you wanted to keep Derry.”
“I do, but not that way. How could I face the child, knowing that I’d stolen her from the woman who bore her?” She touched his cheek. “Shane, there’s something that I haven’t told you.”
Her fingers felt soft against his face. God, but he wanted to protect this woman. Trouble was he didn’t know how. All his life he’d used his fists to fight his way out of trouble. Now, it seemed if he did the right thing, he’d lose the child they both loved. And if he took Derry by force, Caity might never forgive him.
“Shane, listen.”
“I am listenin’.”
“What I’m trying to tell you might make a difference in the way you feel about keeping Derry.”
“Nothin’ could make me stop lovin’ that child.”
Caity looked so vulnerable that he ached for her. And then his world tilted.
“I’m having your baby.”
“You are?” He stared at her. “When? How?” He took a breath and then another until his head felt giddy. Caity was having his child. He had another chance at what he thought he’d lost forever when Cerise died on the floor of Fat Rose’s whorehouse.
He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, golden sunlight flooded the rough shelter. Caity’s hair had never looked so coppery red or her eyes so beautiful. “When? How?” He grinned at her.
She smiled. “In autumn, November, I think. I’m not really sure,” she answered. “But as to how . . .” She chuckled. “In the usual way, I’d think.”
“That’s great. Great news. A brother for Justice.”
“Or a sister.”
“Girl or boy, it doesn’t matter to me, so long as you’re all right and the baby’s healthy.” He straightened his shoulders and nodded. “A sister for our Derry would be fine. So long as you don’t object to my teachin’ her to shoot.”
Caity’s joy faded. “But we won’t have our Derry, will we?”
“You think another child would make me change how I feel about our nubbin?”
“I hoped it wouldn’t.”
“God knows I’ve given you reason enough to doubt me. I’ve let you down, Caity, but I’ll not fail you again, I swear it.”
“You’re happy about the baby?”
“Of course I’m happy. Nothin’ means more to me than you and our kids. If we have a dozen, I’ll—”
“Don’t set your heart on a dozen.”
He embraced her and kissed her tenderly. “How long have you known?” he asked when they parted.
“Long enough to be certain.”
He tilted her chin up. “You knew, yet you risked your life and our babe’s by helpin’ Gabe drive the herd.” The thought of what he could have lost to Nate Bone made his gut clench.
She nodded. “It seemed the right thing to do.”
“And do you still think that? After all that happened on the trail? After Nate Bone and—”
“We got the horses here, didn’t we?” Then the pride in her eyes dimmed. “Only . . . if I hadn’t come, Liam Shaughnessy wouldn’t have found us. He and Maureen would have gone on to Oregon, and we’d—”
“McKenna!” Rachel shouted as she reined in her horse so tightly at the entrance to the shelter that the animal reared. “McKenna!”
Shane shook his head. “Not now, Rachel. We’ve trouble—”
“Hell’s bells, McKenna! This is important. Gabe’s found—”
Caitlin cut her off. “Rachel. My sister—Derry’s mother—is here in Independence.”
“Blue hellfire, Cait. I saw that Irish fella talkin’ to McKenna, but I had no idea he was kin to you.”
“My sister’s new husband, Liam Shaughnessy,” Caitlin explained. “They’re on their way west, and they’ve come to claim Derry”
Rachel’s face blanched. “Damn. Double damn and shoe the coyote! Gabe said you was tellin’ the truth about that mite bein’ your sister’s. They come to take her back?”
“They’re not gettin’ her,” Shane said.
Rachel turned her attention to him. “Gabe wants you right away.”
“I can’t come now. Caity and I have to go meet with her sister and Shaughnessy.”
Rachel shook her head. “This can’t wait, McKenna. Come now, or forget about gettin’ Cherokee back.”
“What?” Caitlin’s eyes dilated in surprise. “Shane’s horse?”
“It’s what I come to tell you,” Rachel said impatiently. “Gabe spotted Cherokee in a corral with a herd from Saint Louis. Your buckskin pony’s about to be auctioned off. You can buy him back if you move fast.”
“Are you sure it’s Shane’s buckskin?” Caitlin asked.
Rachel guffawed. “Gabe don’t make mistakes where horses are concerned.”
“It makes no sense,” Shane protested. “The man I sold him to wanted him for his son.”
“Hell’s ashes, McKenna,” Rachel exclaimed. “Are you gonna stand there jawin’? You ought to have enough money to top any bid, considerin’ how much I got for the rest of your herd.”
He glanced at Caity.
“Go ahead,” she urged. “I’ll wait here for you. I want to wash Derry and fix her hair. I don’t want Maureen to see her looking like a wharf rat.”
“Take my horse.” Rachel dismounted and tossed Shane the reins. “Just don’t let anybody auction him off by mistake.”
Caitlin was near panic an hour later when she saw Shane coming on Cherokee. Derry sat proudly on Shane’s lap holding on to the saddle horn, and Justice rode behind the saddle with his arms around Shane’s waist.
“Where have you been?” she demanded of the children.
Derry looked as though she’d been swimming in a hog wallow. One pigtail was undone, her calico bonnet was missing a string and trailing down her back, and her shoes were caked in brown, gooey mud.
Justice appeared little better. He sported a fresh cut on his lip, and he glared at her with an expression that would have scorched cowhide.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Caitlin scolded.
“Gabe caught the two of them in a fight with some town boys. There was a circle of screamin’ kids around them, or he might never have realized they’d slipped away from us.”
“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.