An Irish Heart for the Brooding Rancher (Preview)

Chapter One

Silver Creek, Montana

1890

“Are we almost there?” Elinor’s brother, Liam, kept asking. His voice broke the monotony of the train rattling across the tracks. It had taken the O’Callaghan family almost three weeks to reach Silver Creek, Montana. The journey from their home in Tidewater Country, Virginia was delayed several times, and by the time they were nearing Bozeman, Elinor could hardly wait to get off the train.

“Almost, son!” boomed Patrick O’Callaghan, ever the optimist, keeping their spirits up. Next to him sat his wife, Moira, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She was not well and found long journeys tiring. Elinor was the one who ran much of the household and looked after Liam, her eight-year-old brother. Patrick had sold their move to Montana as a new beginning for all of them.

Despite her initial misgivings, Elinor was beginning to hope he was right. They needed some good luck for a change. The family had never really settled in one place for long, and all of them longed for a home. Elinor worried about moving so far away, though, having read about the wild, untamed spaces of Montana.

The Rocky Mountains came into view as they reached Bozeman. The mountains, with their snow-capped peaks, dominated the skyline, with lovely green slopes dipping into forested valleys. Elinor had never seen mountains like this. She was used to the flat lands of Tidewater County, which were quite scenic, but nothing like this.

“Would you look at that!” Elinor exclaimed, peering out of the window. It filled her with wonder and a little excitement at the adventure that lay ahead.

“That there is the largest mountain system in North America,” said her father with some pride. “It’s millions of years old and stretches right through the whole country.”

“Wow,” Liam breathed a sigh of wonder.

“Where are we going again?” her mother asked. “Emerald… something?”

“Silver Creek,” her father repeated, patiently. He had told her many times before, but it seemed to have slipped Moira’s mind. Again.“It’s a new town in the south, some distance away from the mountains.”

“Away from the mountains?” Liam asked, sounding so disappointed that they all laughed.

“We’ll be close enough, believe me. In winter, you don’t want to get stuck on those mountain slopes!” her father said.

The whole family was mesmerized by the towering peaks, which glinted dramatically in the sun.

 

***

At the station, Patrick went off to find a coach to take them on the last part of their journey, and Elinor helped her mother and brother disembark with their luggage. Her mother was looking pale and slumped in her seat. Elinor offered her some water.

“It won’t be long now,” she said. “Father said the Hawthorne Ranch is about two hours from here. Our land borders their farm.”

Moira nodded slightly.

“Father says there will be a nice big garden,” Elinor offered, to fill the silence while they waited. “I’m hoping to plant some potatoes and spinach.”

“Can we get a dog?” Liam asked hopefully, looking at Elinor, who smiled fondly at her little brother. “We will have to see, Liam. Let us get there first!”

The family had never had much money and had frequently moved whenever Patrick found a new job. Their Irish heritage was often held against them, and they encountered hostility more than once. But everything changed when factory owners offered to buy their last house so they could expand their premises.

Patrick was able to use the money to plan a different future for them. He decided it was time for a move out West to see if the frontier world would be more welcoming. He had been raised on a farm and grew up with horses and thought the lifestyle would suit them better.

“But why Montana?” Elinor had wanted to know. She had looked at the map, and it seemed quite isolated and uncivilized. She had grown up in Williamsburg and had sung in the church choir.

“I want to get away from the cities and the noise,” Patrick had said and she could hear the yearning in his voice. “Montana hasn’t been overrun with people yet. I have found a decent parcel of land with a house, where we could grow some vegetables and get a few chickens.”

In addition, he had been able to secure a job as a ranch hand at the neighboring cattle farm. When Elinor expressed doubt at his ability to herd cattle, he reminded her of the times he had worked on farms.

Finally, the road dipped into a valley, and they reached a road with a sign that read Hope Farm.

Elinor liked that.

“Here we are, O’Callaghans!” her father roared as they approached their new home. “We have arrived!”

The wagon stopped in front of a wooden cabin with a narrow porch. Elinor’s gaze swept out toward the rolling mountain meadows and lush creek bottomlands lined with shrubs and plants. In the distance, she could see a river winding through the trees. It was breathtaking. Liam ran into the house, excited to explore his new surroundings.

“What do you think, love?” Patrick asked Moira.

“It’s beautiful. So peaceful,” Moira said with a tired smile.

Elinor, too, was enchanted by the place. The house was bigger than she had expected, and she would be able to have her own room. The living quarters were quite spacious, too, with a large kitchen area and a comfortable hearth.

“Maybe we can find some fabric for you in town, and you can make a quilt for your bed?” Moira said to Elinor, whose heart lifted at the thought. Her mother inspected the kitchen and commented on the big hearth, the chairs that had been arranged in front of it.

“It will be cozy in winter,” she commented approvingly.

While they began unpacking their meager belongings and settling in, a carriage arrived carrying a young couple. Elinor and her father went out to meet them.

“I’m Samuel Turner, and this is my wife, Abigail,” the young man said with a broad smile. Looking at Patrick, he added, “I’m a ranch hand over at the Hawthorne Ranch, and we’ll be working together.” He had curly brown hair and warm brown eyes.

Abigail smiled at Elinor and Moira. “We’ve brought you some lunch. You must be hungry after your arduous journey?”

Elinor’s stomach rumbled appreciatively.

Abigail went on, “I thought we could get everything ready while Sam takes your father out to the ranch and shows him around a bit?”

Liam ran up to Sam. “Can I come too?”

Sam laughed and ruffled his hair. “Sure thing, little man.” He pointed toward the back of the house. “The Hawthorne Ranch is right over there.”

“Do you live there too?” Patrick asked.

“Oh no. I used to live on the ranch with some of the other hired hands, but after Abigail and I got married, we moved in with my mother. She works in the main house and lives in a place down the road.”

The women went inside and unpacked the supplies the Turners had brought. There was bread and cheese, and homemade butter, as well as eggs, potatoes, pickles, and blueberry jam.

Elinor got a fire going to make coffee.

“What are they like, the Hawthornes?” she asked, and Abigail’s face froze for a moment.

“They’re good people,” she said carefully. “But private.”

Elinor frowned and wanted to ask more, but sensed she should not.

“It’s just the father and his son, Caleb. Thomas bought the farm years ago and established it as one of the top ranches in the area. But Caleb is the one who runs it now, with Sam and some hired hands helping.”

Abigail explained how several ranch hands stayed in a bunkhouse on the far end of the property. They helped with larger roundups and cattle drives into town.

Elinor listened with interest. She had no experience with cattle or ranching. She had no idea what to expect or whether her father would be able to do the job. Yet, they had bought the house here and that meant they would have to stay for a while, at least. Her father sometimes made rash decisions, and she hoped this was not one of them. She liked the house and the surroundings and hoped this job would work out, for all of their sakes.

“My grandparents came out from Ireland during the famine,” she said after Abigail asked where they came from. Patrick still had the Irish lilt, but she and Liam spoke like everyone else in Virginia. “They had dreamed of a better life, but unfortunately passed away not long after reaching New England.”

She didn’t explain how Patrick and his siblings had to scrounge to survive, finding apprenticeships and lodgings and facing much hardship along the way. He never referred to his past, and it was only through Moira that Elinor had learned about her father’s humble beginnings.

“You’ll find that Silver Creek is very much an up-and-coming town,” Abigail said. She offered to show Moira and Elinor around. Moira asked about the kinds of shops and whether there was a school for Liam. She seemed interested in their home, and Elinor was encouraged by her mother’s positive attitude.

This was a good sign, Elinor thought to herself.

Then Abigail’s attention turned to her.

“But, Elinor! You must have left quite a number of broken hearts back home!” Abigail exclaimed, touching Elinor’s long, copper-colored hair. “I dare say the young men of Montana will find you irresistible!”

Elinor looked away, uncomfortable. “Ah, no, I don’t have time for that.”

Moira smiled. “It’s high time she found a husband, I keep telling her. I was wed when I was eighteen.”

“I’m only twenty, Mother!” Elinor protested with a laugh.

She listened as her mother told the story of how she met Patrick, a tale of love at first sight at a village festival. It was a lovely story, but Elinor herself had little time for romance. Looking after Liam and her family kept her busy enough. She had yet to meet someone who could truly hold her interest.

“There are some interesting prospects here, you know,” Abigail said with a teasing smile. She was attractive, with hazel eyes and auburn hair swept into a loose bun at the back of her head. “I mean, I’m not looking. I’m very happy with Sam. But I would happily introduce you in town.”

Elinor shook her head with an embarrassed laugh.

“That would be very kind, thank you,” Moira spoke up, much to Elinor’s surprise.

Abigail caught Elinor’s eye and winked good-naturedly at her. They were close in age, and Elinor had the thought that they might become friends. This was a cheering idea, as Elinor had left some good friends behind in Virginia.

They heard voices outside and saw the men coming back from their walk. Liam came running into the house, clearly in high spirits.

“Sam says one of the mares is going to foal soon, and I could get the baby!”

“Really?” Elinor looked up as her father entered.

Patrick nodded. “I’ve bought two horses for us, and one of them is about to foal. Hopefully, that one could be for Liam.”

They sat down to lunch, and though it was a simple meal, they tucked in, hungry after the journey. After tasting the ginger beer, Elinor made coffee, which they drank with biscuits.

Sam spoke of the recent cattle roundup and the count that followed. The herd was growing, which was a good sign, but there was still much work to be done. He mentioned that there was a need for an older man to keep the younger cowboys in line.

“Is that not Thomas’s role?” Patrick asked.

Sam hesitated. “Thomas is not much involved in the running of the farm anymore,” he said at last.

They all looked at him, unsure what to make of that.

“Caleb handles most of the decisions, though he doesn’t much care for working with people.”

“And you’re too soft-hearted, aren’t you?” Abigail teased her husband.

Sam laughed. “I’m afraid so.”

“Well, I don’t mind,” Patrick said. “I’m a hard worker, and I learn fast.”

Elinor knew this was true. She had seen her father try his hand at many different jobs, from construction and carpentry work to fishing on seaborne vessels. But this was the most excited he had been in a long time.

Elinor rose to clear the table and do the washing up.

As she stepped out the back door to fetch water, she glanced toward the Hawthorne Ranch and saw a lone rider on the crest of the ridge behind their house. The sun was setting, the sky ablaze with fiery gold. Though the rider was little more than a dark silhouette, there was something slow and reticent in his movements.

He seemed to pause at the ridge, looking down into the valley, perhaps toward the house.

Elinor felt self-conscious of her family, their meager belongings in shabby luggage. She cringed as she heard Patrick’s loud voice and Liam’s exuberant laughter carrying in the quiet air. She wondered whether the solitary rider could see her as clearly as she could see him. The sky behind him was alight with color, warm golden hues melting into bright pink and red. It was a spectacular sight.

After a few moments, he turned and rode away.

Elinor hurried to fill the basin, her heart beating faster than usual, unsettled by the encounter in a way she could not explain.

Chapter Two

Caleb ventured into the forest at the top of the mountainous section toward the north of the ranch when he encountered the bear. He had been searching for the last of the coyotes suspected of attacking the calves. Butch and Charlie, the two ranch hands, had shot most of them after finding them nearby, sated after their attack. But they told him that at least one had gotten away.

“Stay here. Guard the herd,” he said to them. “I’ll find him.” The sight of the maimed calves pained him, and this pain turned into anger. He liked hunting, probably as it directed his focus and energy into an activity outside himself. He was given to rumination and thinking too much. At least, that was what Sam always said.

He found the impression of coyote paws quickly enough, but it became harder once the grass took over. Once in the hills, he found himself a good hiding place with an excellent view of the surrounding landscape. In time, he saw the coyote creeping through the grass and took it down with one shot.

On his way back to his horse, however, he saw the unmistakable track of a mountain lion and decided to see where it led. He hoped it wasn’t going down toward the ranch. The mountain lion was already too close to the herd for his liking. They had lost a number of calves already, and Caleb didn’t want to lose any more. He’d told Butch and Charlie to set up camp with the herd for the next couple of weeks to keep a close eye. It was well into spring, and the weather was much warmer now. Soon, the calves would be big enough and able to travel farther to safer grazing.

He took his horse up into the thicker forest and eventually lost the trail of the lion. He tied up his horse and took a closer look on foot. He wanted to be sure the animal was out of range. The air was cool and fresh up here, and the sunlight dappled between the trees. He loved being out alone in the mountains, an area on the ranch that he knew like the back of his hand. He’d grown up in these mountains, of course, but there was a time when he spent most of his days out here with Sixfoot, the Native American who taught him almost everything he knew about the wilderness.

Caleb was about to turn back and return to his horse when he looked up and saw the bear in front of him. He stopped walking and stood perfectly still. The bear was about fifteen yards away, and it was looking straight at him. Caleb didn’t move, and he didn’t make eye contact. He breathed slowly and stayed calm. He thought of Sixfoot, who had told him that bears were powerful but not evil. This contradicted what the ranchers had told him as a child. They said you had to kill any bear on sight. But Sixfoot said killing a bear brought bad luck.

Caleb didn’t need any more bad luck in his life. He’d had more than enough of it already in his lifetime.

He held his rifle casually, prepared to swing it into action if necessary, but had no intention of shooting the animal.

“It’s all right, big guy,” he said slowly in a gentle tone. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The bear grunted and shook his head. It looked like a male, but it was difficult to see in the low light. Caleb took a step back.

“I’m just going to walk out of here. Slowly.”

He took another step back.

The bear was pawing the ground, snorting again. This could be a sign that the bear was readying for an attack. Caleb controlled his breathing. There were a few moments of intense trepidation, but then the bear turned around and disappeared into the bushes. Within moments, it was like it had never been there.

Caleb gave a deep, relieved sigh. He walked down to his horse, which was tied up some distance away. It was clearly glad to see him, giving a nervous whinny, and he wondered if it smelled the bear. Or the mountain lion. There was plenty of danger around up here. He turned the horse around and picked his way down the mountain in the direction of the ranch.

As he came down the path, he thought of the new hire that had apparently arrived with his family the day before. Sam had mentioned them to him that morning when they met for their morning coffee in the main house. Sam said he needed to give the man instructions on preparing the fields for planting the hay.

“You do it,” he said to Sam.

“You have to meet him at least once,” Sam said, giving him a look that Caleb knew well. They had known each other since they were children, and that was the only reason why he allowed Sam to talk to him like that. No one else would dare to challenge him. But Sam had been there at the time of the incident and knew what Caleb had been through. He always had Caleb’s back.

“They seem like a pleasant family,” Sam told him, even though he hadn’t asked. “There is a very charming daughter as well…” he said, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. Caleb had turned away from Sam at this point, giving a clear signal that he had finished their talk. He knew where this conversation was heading. Ever since Sam had married Abigail, he was at Caleb to get married too. He thought it would be good for him to settle down and find someone. But just because Sam had found that kind of happiness didn’t mean that it was meant for Caleb. He had tried telling Sam that. He preferred his solitude.

As he came out of the forest and into the grasslands, he spotted Butch and Charlie sitting under a tree. They had made a makeshift camp and had a little fire going. It looked rather cozy. He rode up to them. They didn’t hear him coming and while he tied up his horse, he overheard their conversation.

“…doesn’t look like much of a rancher, the father. Bit long in the tooth,” Butch said with a laugh.

“But the daughter sure is soft on the eye,” Charlie said, and they both laughed at that.

Caleb didn’t like that kind of talk and walked briskly up to them, rustling the grass noisily. Both men gave a start when he approached.

“Didn’t hear you there, boss,” Charlie, the younger of the two said, sitting up straight. “Did you get him?” Meaning the coyote, of course.

Caleb nodded in the direction of his horse, where he had tied the dead coyote to the saddle.

“You boys all right out here?”

Butch nodded. “Herd’s settled for the night.”

“All right. Take them east in the morning,” Caleb said. “Over to the meadow.”

Then he headed home. As he approached the house, he saw Sam talking to a man and a boy outside the house. This must be the new man, thought Caleb. He noticed the man’s graying hair and took in his stocky build. This was hard country and a tough life. It wasn’t really an old man’s game.

He got off his horse as he approached them and heard Sam saying in a raised voice, “Here he is now, let me introduce you.”

The older man stuck out his hand and looked him in the eye, “Patrick O’Callaghan, pleased to make your acquaintance. This is my son, Liam.”

Caleb shook his hand and looked at the boy.

“When I was your age, I shot my first elk.”

“I can shoot,” the boy said defiantly, sticking out his chin.

Caleb gave a surprised laugh. He very much doubted that this city boy had shot anything in his life, but he liked the boy’s spirit.

“You are very welcome here,” he said quietly, looking briefly at Patrick and then dropping his eyes. “You and your family.”

Then he went into the house. He found himself hungry after the ride up into the mountains. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything that day, and it was afternoon already.

He found Margaret in the kitchen and nodded a greeting.

“Can I get you some pie? There is some left over from lunch?”

“Yes, please.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove while Margaret prepared a plate for him.

She was Sam’s mother and had worked for the family for many years. As Caleb’s mother had died when he was young, Margaret, in many ways, was a mother figure to him, although she always knew her place.

“Saw a grizzly up in the mountains,” he said to her. “Big fella.”

“Oh? Did you shoot him?”

Caleb shook his head. “He was far from here.”

Margaret looked at him carefully. Caleb had an inscrutable, closed down expression which made it hard for others to know what he was thinking. But she knew better than most.

“Abigail was thinking of taking the women to town tomorrow, to show them around,” she said.

“What women?” Caleb frowned.

“The O’Callaghans,” Margaret reminded him. “The wife and daughter of the new hired man? They live over on Hope Farm.”

He nodded, remembering now.

Margaret went on, “The mother appears to be unwell, but she was interested in seeing the shops. Looks like the daughter does most of the housework.”

The daughter. Caleb thought of her, wondering why everyone kept mentioning her. Did they really think he was going to marry the daughter of the new ranch hand?

Then he recalled the ride he had taken the previous evening, doing a patrol of the fences. He had been right around the property, up onto the ridge behind the house. He had heard the sounds coming from the Hope Farm house and had seen people moving around there. He thought he had seen a woman outside the house.

Margaret sat down at the table and folded her hands.

“I want to tell you something, Caleb,” she said after taking a breath. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s for your own good.”

Caleb stopped eating the pie and looked at her.

“It’s not good for a man to be alone. God tells us this in the Bible. He created woman as a helper and a companion.”

Caleb held his tongue. He respected Margaret and knew she was a good, God-fearing woman. She meant well, just like Sam did. But he had other things to think about. He had bought a neighboring farm a short while ago, the Stoker land. He had gone against his father’s advice, but buying the land also meant that he gained a hundred head of cattle. He wanted to expand the herd. John Stoker had lost most of his herd to cattle thieves. When he had gone to confront them to try to get his cattle back, he found himself shot in the altercation. He survived the shooting, but he had lost his appetite for ranching. He walked with a limp now. He’d told Caleb he wanted to move to town with his wife and get away from the farm.

But this meant that the cattle thieves were Caleb’s problem now. He would have to see to it that the men were apprehended and brought to justice. Montana was still a young state, and there were many areas where lawlessness was rife. Silver Creek had a sheriff, but for bigger law enforcement tasks, like tracking down several armed cattle thieves, he would call on other ranch farmers to help him.  There were others in the stock association who would help him.

“Don’t you want a son to take over the ranch one day?”

Margaret’s words interrupted his train of thought. He hadn’t given much thought to children. But she was right: the whole point of developing the ranch was to do it for the family, to establish the name and the brand in the region. Thomas had handed the ranch over to Caleb, but who would take over from Caleb?

He thought of the little boy he had met outside, how amused he had been at the boy’s plucky answer. He didn’t dislike children generally. They spoke their mind and were easy to talk to. More so than adults, in his opinion. He had been a child himself, once, although it felt like a hundred years ago.

“I don’t know, Margaret,” he said in a heavy voice.

“Thomas wants grandchildren, you know.”

He was taken aback at her words. “He spoke to you about that?”

She shook her head. “No… but he was down here this morning when the boy was running around outside. I observed from the other room. He was watching him through the window and then said it was nice to hear children’s voices again.”

Caleb took a sip of his coffee.

The thought of his father always brought sharp, painful feelings of guilt. Thomas spent his days confined to the house, although he had physically recovered completely. He could go outdoors, even ride if he wanted to. But he never seemed to want to anymore. He was usually in his room, or in the study, reading the books he ordered from the city. Caleb made a point of checking in with him once a day, at least, usually as a courtesy.

But he found their meetings difficult and challenging. Thomas sometimes had different views on how Caleb should run the ranch. and while he tried to be accommodating of his father’s way of doing things, he had his own ways. He knew he was headstrong and stubborn, but then, so was his father.

Growing up, it had only been the two of them. He had never known his mother, and his father never wanted to talk about the way she died. It was a painful subject. Still, his childhood hadn’t been sad. He remembered being outdoors a lot, learning to ride and fish, and spending hours in the wild with Sixfoot, learning about animals and the ways of the natural world.

His days of freedom came to an end only after the incident happened and Thomas was injured.

Caleb got up and thanked Margaret for the pie.

He went out to the porch and looked out over the ranch, which had an expansive view of the valley and the Rocky Mountains in the distance. His father had bought the land shortly after marrying his mother, Mary. They had come out here when it was still wild and uninhabited, and they had to fight the elements, along with bandits, disease, and terrible odds to survive. A couple of times they had almost given up, Thomas had once told Caleb. But something always prevented him from selling the farm.

“It gets into your blood,” Thomas had said to him as a little boy. “And once it does, there’s no getting it out.”

Caleb knew that was the truth. He felt it in his own blood, the way it stirred when he rode out among the cattle. But what would happen to the farm if something happened to him? What would become of the Hawthorne name?

He had no answers to these questions, and they plagued him. The sun was going down, and cold air filled the valley. He watched the shadows pooling under the trees on the hills, filling the valley, creeping up toward the house.

Soon, it would swallow everything. He would build a fire inside, and the house would be all lit up. He was always fighting the darkness, he thought. He always would. He had seen that darkness was a part of life, that night always had to follow day. Things happened in the night that didn’t happen in the daytime.

To escape his darkening thoughts, Caleb turned his gaze away from the valleys, in the direction of the Hope Farm, which he couldn’t see from the main house. He thought of the laughter he had heard there, and it occurred to him that the arrival of the O’Callaghans might be a good thing for the Hawthorne Ranch.