Call Home the Heart (14 page)

 

 

Judging from the glass-fronted pantry cabinets, Muireann guessed
that at least Augustine hadn't got around to selling any of the
kitchenware. There were simple sets of plain earthenware dishes,
wooden as well as steel forks and spoons, and some good knives.
There was even some china in a glass-fronted wooden cabinet inserted
into the wall of the corridor between the kitchen and what Muireann
assumed must have once been the dining room. No doubt the silverware
had all been sold long ago.

 

 

In the cupboards under the ovens were some huge cauldrons and pans
for cooking and baking, and some more potatoes and vegetables, and
even a few bottles of wine. Of course, everything was coated with
dirt and grime, but all the same, at least Muireann felt she had
something with which to start her new life.

 

 

She opened the back door of the kitchen, and was glad to see a small
pile of lumber outside.

 

 

"We'll need plenty of hot water first of all, so you get the fires
going under the boiler, while I fill the cauldron," Muireann
instructed.

 

 

"But it's such hard work for you!"

 

 

 "Well, get some other people in here to help, then. We can't
clean anything without hot water. In any case, it's about time we
let the people here know that I'm now in charge, and that I'm
serious about getting this place on its feet again."

 

 

Lochlainn assented to her plan, and went off to find several of his
old friends and their wives, while Muireann went into the scullery.
Rolling up the sleeves of her black and burgundy gown, she began to
pump the water.

 

 

At first it came out an appalling brown color, and smelt foul, but
soon it began to run quite clear. She noted there was still a
brownish tinge to it. Lochlainn explained when he got back a short
time later that the color was due to the large amount of turf in the
area.

 

 

She began toting buckets back and forth to the boiler. "I've seen
turf before back home, but I don't think we use it nearly as much as
you do here."

 

 

Lochlainn stacked the wood in the burner underneath. "That's
probably because you have coal readily available. But here it is
very expensive, so we exploit the woods and the bog to keep warm."

 

 

"I see."

 

 

Soon three couples arrived at the back door and Lochlainn introduced
them.

 

 

"This is Patrick Martin and his wife Siobhan, who used to do
carpentry and weaving before we fell on hard times. This is Mark
McManus and Sharon, who used to grow potatoes and take in the
washing. And this is Colm Maguire and Brona, who also farmed and
looked after the livestock. They're some of the best workers we've
ever had, born and bred on this estate, as were their mothers and
fathers before them."

 

 

They all looked at the beautiful young girl quite warily.

 

 

Muireann gave them her warmest smile. After shaking each of them by
the hand, she asked for their help with the water, fuel and
cleaning.

 

 

"We'll need more wood soon enough, or turf if it's handier. We need
to get lots of buckets of hot soapy water to scrub this place down
and get rid of the nests and close up the mouse holes. Can you help
me?"

 

 

They all nodded, and for a time all eight of them labored away in
the kitchen until Ciara joined them and made a ninth.

 

 

As soon as the water was hot, the women filled the sinks with the
grimy dishes and pans, and began to scrub them, while Muireann
scoured all the tables and work surfaces, which were caked with
grease and dirt. Lochlainn got the other ovens going, and Muireann
asked him to send out some men to hunt for deer or pheasant.

 

 

"And we'll need some rabbit snares as well, if you haven't already
got them out," she said with a wink, knowing full well that in such
a badly run estate, poaching would be rife. "Tell them to get as
much food as they can. We have a break in the weather at the moment,
but who's to say that it won't turn cold again soon."

 

 

Lochlainn nodded his agreement, pleased at her foresight. He
summoned the best marksmen on the estate. He went into the gun
cabinet in the study, and issued them arms and ammunition.

 

 

He reported back to Muireann, "At least there are plenty of guns and
cartridges. Let's just hope they hit everything they shoot at."

 

 

"We'll cook some of the meat, because I'm sure everyone here could
use a decent meal. But we can also smoke some of it if you will get
the smoke oven going and I can find some salt."

 

 

"That's an excellent idea. I hope they catch a mountain of food."

 

 

"But we will need some other women to do the preparation," Muireann
reminded him.

 

 

Lochlainn grinned, suddenly feeling his spirits lift.  "I'm
sure there will be many willing to help for a decent bowl of stew in
return."

 

 

She was successful in her search for the salt, and by midday the
kitchen looked a bit more habitable. The work surfaces gleamed, and
wonderful smells were issuing from the ovens and the cooking pot
Ciara had put on the stove.

 

 

Ciara and the other women had picked through the several baskets of
rather wizened vegetables and potatoes, and had thrown the best of
them into a stew pot with some of the rabbits the men had brought
back. The rest of the vegetables were scrubbed and throw into a vat
of boiling water.

 

 

"They'll make good stock for soup or stew, and we can keep the pulp
for a pig. We'll need to get more animals here, and soon," she said,
wrinkling her nose at the rancid butter she found in the cool press.
She stood looking at it silently for a moment and then declared,
"There must be an ice house here somewhere."

 

 

"Aye, there is, though I must admit, I doubt any of us have gone on
ice-cutting detail on the lough for a long time," Patrick said. He
was a pleasant-looking dark-haired young man with sunken cheeks and
piercing blue eyes.

 

 

"Well, perhaps it would be a good idea to get it going again. If we
bought some cows we could make butter and sell it. The same with
eggs. We can get some laying hens and do a milk, egg, butter, and
bread round for the townspeople."

 

 

"All of that costs money, Muireann," Lochlainn reminded her.

 

 

"I know that, Lochlainn, and I know we have terrible debts. I'm just
planning ahead. If the bank and our creditors see that we have a
definite plan for getting Barnakilla up and running again, they
might be willing to wait for their money just a little while longer.
A few cows and pigs and hens won't set us back that far, now will
they, compared to the huge sum which must be owing," Muireann argued
logically.

 

 

Lochlainn had to admit he couldn't find fault with her reasoning.
But he was unwilling to discuss money matters with her in front of
the others. He and Muireann had to restore confidence in Barnakilla.
There was no way he could do that if they seemed to be at odds with
one another.

 

 

He could see she was quite distressed by what she had discovered,
though she had never once complained. Again he felt an acute sense
of having betrayed her. He watched her closely for any sign of
weakness as she moved about, scrubbing, organizing, and making an
inventory, until at last she made a face at him, and then smiled,
which reassured him somewhat.

 

 

After they had eaten their dinner, a bowl of stew apiece, Muireann
went upstairs with Ciara to see if she could find a suitable
bedchamber for herself.

 

 

At the back of the house was a room with flowered blue and white
wallpaper, now yellowed with age. The chamber had an eastern
exposure, and was small enough to be kept warm easily. In it were a
large tester bed, a small dressing table, and a chair. So far as she
could see, no tiny visitors had made any nests anywhere, so she
decided to claim it for her own.

 

 

"Can you clean this one out for me? The mattress looks sound, if a
bit damp, so we can put it outside in the sunshine for a while. In
the meantime I can use some straw from the barn. I would scrub it
out myself, Ciara, but Lochlainn and I need to go into town to see
the accountant."

 

 

"That's fine," Ciara said stiffly. "I'll take care of it."

 

 

"Well, if you have something else to do, it can wait," Muireann
said, trying desperately to warm to Lochlainn's sister, who seemed
as though she went out of her way to be unpleasant to people.

 

 

"No, Mrs. Caldwell, I'll do whatever you say. You are, after all,
the owner now."

 

 

Muireann sighed. "Ciara, I know all of this must be upsetting for
you. I would feel the same way if the home I had come to love over
the years fell to wrack and ruin as this has. But I'm trying to
help, and am quite humbly asking for your assistance in this
endeavor. I know I'm young and inexperienced. It was a pure quirk of
fate that I've ended up here as heir to a bankrupt estate.

 

 

"I'm not asking you to be loyal to me because I'm your mistress and
owner of the estate. I'm asking for your help and friendship because
we will all need to work hard to restore Barnakilla to its former
glories. I'm prepared to work as hard as any of you. Nay, harder.
But my first priority has to be to see whom we're indebted to.
There's no point in our slaving away to renovate the mansion and the
estate if we're going to have to sell anyway because the debts are
too high."

 

 

At length Ciara replied with obvious reluctance, "All right, Mrs.
Caldwell, you have my loyalty for as long as you need it, so long as
you deserve it."

 

 

With that she bent to strip the bed of its dirty linens.

 

 

Muireann saw there was little point in forcing her friendship upon
someone so completely unreceptive to any well-meaning overtures.

 

 

"Thank you, Ciara. I suppose that will have to do. And please, try
to call me Muireann from now on," she requested stiffly as she left
the room.

 

 

 
CHAPTER TEN

 

 

When Muireann had finished organizing the bedroom upstairs to her
satisfaction, she began to head back to the kitchen. She found
Lochlainn waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

 

 

"Come sit down inside the study for a moment, Muireann. You're tired
and I think we need to talk," he said, taking her arm, and noting
with a thrill that it was still bared to the elbow. He felt the
silky soft flesh under his fingers, felt the pulse throbbing through
her. The contact was both thrilling and terrifying.

 

 

Muireann leaned upon him wearily and accompanied him down the
corridor. Once inside, he shut the door, and waited until she sat
before doing so himself.

 

 

They reclined in their chairs in silence for a moment before
Lochlainn asked quietly, "Well, what do you think of your new home?"

 

 

Muireann glanced around the room like a trapped animal. "God, this
is all such a mess! How on earth could things have come to such a
pass?"

 

 

"I honestly don't know, Muireann. Augustine must have run wild
altogether once he inherited. I'm sorry. I should never have
persuaded you to come. Not without knowing the full facts,"
Lochlainn apologized, though he knew he was being insincere.

 

 

He had needed her help, and knew deep down in his heart that he
would have said and done anything to get her to come to Fermanagh to
save Barnakilla. Or said and done anything to prevent her from
getting on a boat back to Scotland and going out of his life
forever.

 

 

Muireann gazed at the dingy wallpaper, the mountain of ledgers and
correspondence on the desk, the chairs fit only for firewood. Then a
thought struck her.

 

 

"Tell me again why you left Barnakilla?" Muireann asked suddenly, as
she rose from the chair and began to flip through some of the
ledgers, glancing over at him from time to time.

 

 

Lochlainn blushed and avoided her gaze as she waited for an answer.

 

 

"You're bound to find out sooner or later, so I might as well tell
you now to get it out of the way. My fiancee Tara left me for
another man. Plus, the old owner, Douglas Caldwell, was dying. I
pretty much figured it was time to pull up stakes and go. I knew
Augustine and I would never see eye to eye on how to run the estate.
I suppose I fancied a change anyway.

 

 

"So I went out to Australia. I was there up until about eight months
ago, when I got a letter from Ciara saying Augustine was asking for
my help. I came back the shortest route I could, working my passage
to save money.

 

 

 "I'm not completely penniless. I made some good money out
there working on a cattle station. But nor do I have the kind of
money we are talking about to get this place back on its feet.
Whatever I have is yours to do with as you like. I want to help in
any way I can."

 

 

"So you dreamed of owning a place like this?"

 

 

He nodded. "As it was at its height, yes, of course. Who wouldn't?
But let's not talk about me. Let's discuss the estate, please," he
said uncomfortably.

 

 

"I'm sure you're wondering how things could have got so bad in such
a short amount of time. It wouldn't have been so bad if the tenants
had at least been paying their rent. But the potato crop failed in
the autumn of 1841, a few months after I left, so people got into
arrears, and Augustine allowed things to drift."