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The next week found the children back at the ridge, all except Sheena, who’d volunteered to stay to help their mother, as well as secretly feed and water the chickens. The five little chicks were shooting up and popping out quickly on the seed and grubs in the yard, and Sheena was gleeful to have a duty that would result in a secret present.
Neil led the rest of them back with borrowed tools and the packed food they’d managed to get from the butcher and the grocer. They had drawn up a line of credit with both men, and were careful to take only what they needed for the trips to the Sherbrooke plot, since otherwise they could barter with Mrs. Conaghey with their labor. No new word had come from Gillan, and no money either.
Neil reflected on this as he hammered together long poles. A part of him was glad Gillan had not yet found success because he had been so dead set against staying near Pictou. Neil had felt that working on finding a farm as soon as possible was the best way, and his family had been right there with him. His confrontation with Gillan before he left had been awkward, but Neil still thought he’d been right to stand firm. When he came back, he resolved to stand his ground. How could Gillan not agree that they had a good situation here now? Earlier in the summer it had been precarious, sure, but now, it was there, within their grasp. Just like the ship’s passage, he trusted Gillan would eventually come around, with his mother’s help.
While Neil was hammering, Muirne and Alisdair were collecting stones of the same size and shape from down by the creek. Muirne was taking no chances with disturbed wild creatures, whether wasp, spider or snake. She carried a long stick to poke under each rock before they dislodged it from the sandy riverbank dirt. It was slow going because they were being so careful and so picky, but Muirne was taking the opportunity to quiz her little brother about geography and multiplication tables, and was content.
Onto this scene of quiet industry there suddenly came a crashing noise from the trees. Muirne stopped to listen at the creek at the bottom of the hill, while Neil did the same from the top, so loud it was. It swept past Muirne and Alisdair through the forested part of the hill, on the other side of the crest so they could not see it. Neil scanned the horizon, then saw the lines of a man on a dark horse just before they emerged from the shade of the trees.
“Hullo, the house!” Turner cried, smiling under his hat. It was the same mare, Neil saw, but different saddle and bags atop. Decorative metal winked brightly from the back of the saddle, newly polished. The man swung down easily.
“Not much of a house, ye ken,” Neil returned, shaking his hand vigorously. “What brings you up here again, sir?”
“Well,” and here his eyes darted around the ridge site. “I had hoped to catch a glimpse of your sister, young man—”
“Don’t try that on with me, now!” Neil cried in mock outrage. “You’re not so much older than me yerself, man.”
“You’re what—nineteen? Twenty?”
“Seventeen.”
“I’m twenty-one.”
“See? A few years. ‘Young man,’ indeed.” Neil saw his eyes go round the place again. “Is it truly Muirne you’re looking for, unchaperoned and—”
“Oh rot, man. I’ve come to help as well. What d’ye think of me?” He went to the saddle packs and took out more tools, the same ones Neil had borrowed, and more: hammer, saw, clamp, level.
“Is that a magic saddle pack, then?” Neil teased. If the man had truly come to help, and had intentions after meeting Muirne, he was certainly acting right smart about it. Maybe even moving a bit too fast and loose. But it was tempting to respond to the man’s friendly advances.
“Nay, I just figured you’d take kindly to some help, and borrowed these myself.”
As he was unloading the tools and looking more closely at what Neil was working on, the trudging steps of Muirne and Alisdair could be heard coming up the path. They both held cloths full of stones. As they crested the hill, they let go the edges and released them with a clatter and a giggle and an exclamation. Neil saw Muirne ruffle Alisdair’s hair from a dozen yards away. He glanced at Turner, who was likewise following their approach with his eyes.
“Mr. Turner!” Muirne sounded surprised. “What a pleasure. Have you come to check on us, that we haven’t had any more accidents?”
“No, Miss MacLean, actually I’ve come to help with the men’s work. I’ve even brought tools, since I thought an extra pair of hands might need an extra pair of tools. Was I right?” He turned to Neil.
“You were,” Neil said gruffly. All this levity. “Now if you’d like to help me securing these poles and skinning some more—”
“Surely. Let me just take off my coat and we shall dive in.” Neil himself wore no coat. Turner took his off and set it aside on a stump. He sported a clean shirt and loose cravat, along with a plain grey waistcoat. Neil noticed Muirne looking at him and tried to glare at her. She didn’t notice.
“Doing well with the stones then, Muirne?” he asked.
“Oh, aye.” She turned toward Neil, correctly reading his face. “We’ll do another go before dinner, right, Alisdair?” They started off down the path again. Neil snuck a look at Turner, and sure enough, he was watching Muirne go, a sort of hunger on his face. Neil resolved to talk to his sister bluntly about this after the man left and Alisdair was asleep. If she did like him, they had better make it formal and announced, before he took advantage, which he looked like he could easily do.
––––––––
Neil got his chance later that night, as the fire crackled low and the stars shone above them. Alisdair was snoring very lightly, and Muirne was sitting propped up against a tree, thinking with her eyes closed. It was pleasantly warm for the evening, after the hot, sticky day.
“Muirne,” Neil said softly to catch her attention. He was laying down on his plaid, his head supported by his hands crossed behind. She opened her eyes and looked over.
“Do ye like Mr. Turner, then? It’s obvious he wants you.”
Muirne looked down quickly. “Is it?” she said.
“Aye. And if there’s to be something between you, it should be honorable and formally expressed so there isn’t any deceit or secrecy. Since Father’s not here—”
“You’ll stand in as watchdog, is that it?” Neil was surprised at the bitterness he heard in her tone, and watched her body hunch forward in the firelight and moonlight. “We’re stuck, Neil. We’ve been wandering for almost a year now, and we’re split up. We’ve no money. No jobs. If it weren’t for the kindness of the people in this parish, we’d have died on the way here.” She let that ugly statement sink in before continuing.
“Father’s left to seek a job with pay. You’ve stayed to try to build a home. Mother is trying to keep us together, but—can’t you feel it? We’ve no place!”
Neil got up to move toward her and sat so their sides touched, both propped up against the tree. “That’s what this is, our place.” He paused. “And that was a very long way about not answering my question, missy.”
A puff of air escaped Muirne’s lips in a short laugh. “Well,” she said languidly, “I think Mr. Turner is an opportunity. I do like him. And I think he’d be able to provide a good home. Student he may be, but he was as able here this afternoon as he was with Mam and her wasp attack.”
“Hmph,” Neil replied. He’d been all right with the saw—because it was also a surgical tool?—but hopeless with the ties to secure the rafters together. Neil had had to do all of them while Turner held them in place. He still wondered about the man’s background, and knew his mother had as well. He’d have to find time to make inquiries, now that he knew Muirne’s mind.
“All right then,” said Neil. “I’ll see what I can find out about him, since we know so little. Ye ken that’s necessary, newcomers as we are? Ye willna find it an interferin’, brotherin’ thing to do?”
Muirne chuckled and lay her head on his shoulder. “No, brother, I’d like that.” After a few moments’ silence, he felt her sigh. She said, “But what will Father think when he comes back?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Neil. The stars gradually winked down on them in the balmy night, and there was nothing preventing them from dreaming easy dreams of what life could be like, here in their own place.