The Shepherd's Betrothal (4 page)

Ian chuckled. “Aye, Captain.”

Harvey Gage poked his head out the window of the kitchen. “Hey, that's my rank.” Gage was a retired sea captain and a friend of Manny's, another resident of the Seaside Inn. Richard and Grace Arman treated him like an uncle, though they were not related. “Manny and I are building a cupboard in the kitchen for you to store some food, plates and other things in. Do you want the sink under the window?”

“That would be nice, thank ye.”

Manny appeared next to Harvey. “Sounds like a good place for it.” He scratched his hat and beamed his toothless grin.

Ian still could not believe all the work they'd accomplished so far today. He grabbed a couple of boards and worked his way across the roof, nailing them in place. Five other men were also working on the roof. “Planning to get the felt on in an hour, better get a move on, Ian,” Richard called out.

“Yes, sir.” Ian climbed down and handed up five more planks. He glanced at the bundles of cedar shingles. No doubt about it, they'd have this roof ready in an hour.

In addition to Ian's plans the men had added a covered porch on the east and west sides, a benefit in the Florida sun. They had raised the house three feet off the ground, letting him know it would help with the airflow, keeping the house cooler. Unlike in Ireland, where the foundation went belowground at least three feet to keep the surface temperatures from cracking the foundation.

An hour before sunset, the sky was beginning to turn orange and pink. The men stood back and examined their work. “It's a sound house, Ian,” William proclaimed.

“Thank ye all for all the help. I never would have been able to accomplish so much alone.”

“Pleasure to help. Now,” Jackson Hastings, Jack's father, began, “I for one am ready to take a dip in that river before I eat. Anyone joining me?”

“We'll have dinner ready when you come back,” one of the ladies shouted.

At that, the men went down to the river. They found a spot behind the trees, took off their outer layers and dived in. Ian floated to the surface, turned onto his back and let the gentle stream float him downriver.

For the first time since his arrival in America, he felt at peace.

Until Gabe “cannonballed” him. The two wrestled in the water, laughing and struggling for the advantage. The others cheered them on as they wrangled back and forth, splashing, sputtering and coughing, but neither giving in to the other. Finally, Ian got the jump on Gabe and dunked him to the bottom. Ian jumped up, raising his arms in victory. Gabe sputtered to the surface, laughing, as he choked out the words “You got me.”

“Aye, but I've had a bit more practice I think with two older brothers and one younger. We've wrestled a time or two. The hook in me nose came from one of our matches. I'm proud to say I won, but it did cost me me good looks.”

“He's got a bit of the blarney in him,” Drake Lang, Hope's father, proclaimed.

All the men joined in the laughter.

“Aye, that be true,” Ian admitted.

As they worked their way toward shore, Ian noticed a wheelbarrow full of towels. The Sanderses certainly knew how to organize a building party.

After they were dried and dressed the men made their way back to the cooking area. The only man who had stayed behind was Jack, taking care of the meat in the smoker and roasting on the pit. “If you don't mind, Dad, I'll let you finish the steaks and burgers and I'll take a quick dip.”

“Be happy to.” Jackson took his son's place and Jack ran down to the river.

Ian scanned the area. The tables were separated and planks placed between them to extend their length. The volume of food filled all three tables. Plates and utensils had been provided by the different families. Ian felt a lump rise in his throat. “Ye ladies have honored me, thank ye. Thank ye all so very much.”

Just then, he turned to see Hope walking out of his new house. A lamp or candle was lit inside and the soft glow made the house appear warm and inviting. Had she done that for him? Ian shook his head, lost in emotion. “I don't know what to say.”

William came up and slapped him on the back. “‘Thank you' is all that is needed. Everyone here likes an excuse to get together and eat. Mable and I thank all of you, as well. Reverend, would you say the blessing?”

The reverend wasn't wearing a cleric's robe today. He'd arrived about midday in overalls and had pounded nails with the rest of them. “Father, we ask your blessings on Mr. McGrae and his new home and property. We ask that You prosper him and his undertakings. Guide him in Your ways, Lord, and bless him with an abundance of Your mercy, grace and hope. In Jesus's name, amen.” A round of amens and cheers went up from the entire group. Ian planted his feet and tried to control the emotions roiling inside him.

Mable came up beside him. “The ladies put together a little gift for you. It's in your house. You can take a look later.” She winked.

“Thank ye, Mrs. Sanders.” Ian reached out and embraced her as if she were his own grandmum. “Thank ye very much.” He looked up…into Hope Lang's eyes.

* * *

Hope's eyes teared up, seeing the genuine affection Ian showed for Mrs. Sanders. The woman was a marvel. She'd been rounding up items for Ian's home for the past three days. He had more furnishings than most in their first homes.

The afternoon swim had been orchestrated so the ladies could move all of Ian's new belongings into place. Grace and Richard had brought the crate Ian had stored in the Seaside Inn's barn. Others brought plates, cups, silverware, pots, pans, a bed, a small table and a couple of chairs, plus an overstuffed chair in the corner for comfort and reading. There was a chest of drawers, and Manny and Harvey had not only built a cupboard but a small closet, as well. The curtains and bedspread were new, all made that day by the ladies.

Hope stood in line and worked her way down the table. Jackson's barbecued ribs were the highlight of the meal and she doubted there would be any left over. The roast beef with finger-licking sauce was her next choice. There were steaks and hamburgers, not to mention all the pork, and an abundance of corn bread, baked beans, coleslaw, fresh vegetables and rolls. The last table was filled with pies, cakes and other sweets.

A fire was lit in the center of the eating area, and Harvey pulled out a fiddle and started to play. It was a grand evening at the end of a wonderful day. Hope couldn't be more proud of her family, neighbors and church friends. She watched as Ian ate and then made his way around the circle thanking everyone individually.

She got up and left her seat when he was three people away from her. There was no sense ruining his day. She didn't want to bring out his anger.

When she returned he had worked his way around the circle and was sitting and enjoying his meal. Every now and again she would catch his gaze and before she had the time to look away he would narrow his on her, leaving an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

By nine o'clock families were packing their wagons. Hope grabbed her parents' contribution to the meal, or rather the empty containers from their contributions.

“Hope!” her mother called.

She joined her family as they prepared to leave and sat beside her mother. Her father and brother stood on the back of the carriage. As they were about to leave, Ian popped his head in the buggy. “I'm glad I caught ye. I just wanted to say thank ye, Miss Lang, for all yer help today.”

“You're welcome, Mr. McGrae.” His face was so alive and happy. She hadn't realized that such a joyous smile was hiding under all those scowls he gave her. Perhaps they could find harmony living in the same town after all.

Ian leaned back and tapped the top of the carriage. “Good night and God bless ye.”

Her mother directed the horses to trot behind the others in the departing caravan. The lanterns lit a dim, golden path down the road.

“How are ye?” her mother whispered.

“Good, thank you, Mum.”

“Perhaps tonight ye can get some sleep.”

Hope giggled. “And you.”

“Aye, and me, as well.” Her mother winked.

How could she have had such negative thoughts about her parents for so long? Pride and arrogance, she guessed.
Dear Lord, there is so much I need to change.

* * *

Ian watched as the departing carriages and wagons bounced down the road toward the city. He turned and looked at his new home. His heart tightened in his chest. He didn't deserve such favor. Especially from the Langs. He'd been short with Hope, and less than generous. And yet she and the rest of the family had turned out to help him. Ian shook his head and decided it was time to see his new home from the inside.

He whistled for Conall and Tara. The two came to his side. “Let's go see our new home,” he said.

He stepped up onto the porch. The low roof overhead was angled to shade the windows from too much sunlight and too much heat. He'd learned so much today about Florida—the heat, the winds, about cooling the house. They'd told him to plant trees around the house for added shade and protection. He was grateful he'd chosen the riverfront property, and could take a quick dip in such refreshing, cool water whenever he liked.

When he opened the door, he staggered back on his heels, marveling at all the work the ladies had done on his behalf. He found a note on the table.

Dear Mr. McGrae,

These items are all extras from our homes that we thought you could use.

The quilt and curtains were made by the ladies today, everything else came from our surplus.

God bless you,

Your neighbors.

Ian stumbled into a nearby chair and read the note one more time. Tears came to his eyes. He was so undeserving of this. And yet the Good Lord blessed him anyway.

His hands started to shake. He missed his family, his home, and yet he'd come to a strange land and had been blessed by meeting just the right people. No man would count that a coincidence. God had been meeting his needs long before he knew what his needs were. His parents' prayers had been answered. His prayers had been answered.

And yet there was a knot in his stomach. He had allowed Hope to believe she was the only one responsible for breaking their betrothal. If she hadn't sent that letter first, he would have been the one disappointing her parents, possibly even Hope herself. He understood her reasoning, but he'd kept his secret from her and from her family. Why had he done that? To punish her for hurting him?

He fell to his knees and cried out to the Lord. “Dear God, I don't deserve any of this.” He prayed and repented. For over an hour he opened his heart to the Lord, then finally got up, exhausted both physically and spiritually. He readied himself for bed and slipped between the sheets.

The next morning, he dressed and got ready for church. “Come, Conall and Tara, we'll be going to church today.”

On the walk to town, he passed the Catholic church. Most Irish, he knew, were expected to be Catholic. He and his family, however, were Protestant. He had attended the Armans' church the first Sunday in St. Augustine. Today he was going to visit another. On the other hand, several of the folks who'd helped out yesterday came from the same church as the Armans, including the Sanderses.

Ian paused in the road.
Where should I go, Lord?
He continued on, undecided. He worked his way through the city streets and found himself back at the same church as the Sunday before.

The pastor greeted him at the door. “Good to see you, Mr. McGrae. That was quite a building party yesterday.”

“Yes, it was, Reverend. Thank ye again for yer help.”

“My pleasure. It is good to have you join us this morning.”

Ian ordered the dogs to stay outside under the shade of a shrub and stepped inside. He admired the large stained glass windows as he sat down on a wooden pew toward the rear of the building. He bowed his head and prayed.

A few minutes later the service began in much the same fashion as it had the week before. The congregation sang with hearty voices and Ian found a deeper joy in singing this morning. He felt freer than he'd felt in years. It was hard to believe the toll his betrothal had taken on his life. He'd been walking around with a chip on his shoulder. He'd been angry with his parents for binding him to such a thing. He'd been angry at having no say in his future. Today, this morning, he felt free from that anger. He smiled at the simple awareness of the fact.

The service ended and Ian engaged in conversations with many of the folks who'd come to lend a hand yesterday.

“Good to see you, Ian,” said John Samuels.

Ian reached out and gave him a hearty handshake, then pulled him in for a hug. “Thank ye again, John, I am overwhelmed.”

“Pleasure to help.” John's wife and children came up beside him. “Remember, I'm a tanner and if you need any help, just let me know.”

“Thank ye, again, John. I will.”

The same conversation was repeated again and again but Ian didn't tire of thanking everyone. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of Hope's crimson crown, accented by a white-laced hat displaying all the high fashion of a woman of society. Why was she chambering rooms at the Seaside Inn? Why would her father allow such a thing? And why would they betroth their daughter to a poor shepherd?

The Lang family was a bit of a mystery.

Hope glanced over and gave him a slight nod of recognition. It occurred to him that perhaps she'd sent him that letter because she didn't believe he was worthy of her affections. She raised her eyebrow. Her green eyes sparkled for a moment then she turned her focus to another—a man with broad shoulders and impeccable clothing, complete with a top hat and suit coat.

Ian exited the church. Why did it bother him if she was interested in another? She wasn't bound to him. And that was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? But the idea that a life with Hope would not have been a bad thing kept nagging at him. And for some unexplained reason, seeing her with another man did not sit well.