The Shepherd's Betrothal (7 page)

“Mable will help you when she gets back. Best to let Tara do what's natural.” William hoisted his shotgun over his shoulder and went into the field to help Ian.

Hope stepped into Ian's home and headed for the closet. She hadn't been in the house since the eve it had been built, when she and the ladies set up the furnishings and the curtains.

This was a private side of him she had not seen until now. Ian kept a tidy room, just as she would have expected. She pulled aside the curtain to the closet and found the rags Ian had mentioned. She knelt down and fingered through the various materials. Selecting the more absorbent cloths, she started to rip them into strips.

Hope went back to the porch to see Mable returning.

“He needs stitching?”

“Yes. Not too bad, though. He should do well if infection doesn't set in. You're a brave boy, Conall,” Mable encouraged while petting behind his ears.

Hope had readied a bowl of warm water to wash the wound as well as the clean rags. “This is going to hurt a bit, boy.” Mable sat by Conall's head and held him down. Hope rinsed the wound then put in a couple of stitches. Conall whimpered but laid still. Hope was again impressed by how well these dogs obeyed.

As she wrapped the wound with the strips of cloth, she heard the sound of bleating. “Looks like the sheep and men are coming in,” Mable said. “I'll go open the gate to the pen.”

Hope couldn't believe the size of Ian's flock. There was no way they would all fit in that one pen. “How many sheep does he have?”

“Fifty.”

“I don't think they'll all fit,” Hope said

“They will. They won't like it, but they will fit.” Mable smiled. “Same with cattle. You can round 'em up until they squawk at yah, but they'll fit.”

She loved watching him work. He was firm but gentle with his sheep. His movements were easy and fluid, relaxed. He leaned down and slid his hand down the legs of one of the sheep. Hope closed her eyes as an unbidden thought of being in his arms overwhelmed her.

* * *

Ian looked over and saw Hope sitting between Conall and Tara on the porch, stroking them with her gentle touch. The puppies lay beside their mother. Ian smiled. Somehow the porch looked more inviting with Hope sitting there. He prodded the small flock into the enclosed pen. “Thank ye, Mable and William. I appreciate yer help.”

“More than happy to lend a hand. Here's my shotgun. Use it if that bobcat comes back tonight.”

Ian nodded and walked over to the porch. “How are they doing?”

“Tara seems to be comfortable now that she's a mum with six adorable pups. Conall is doing well. We cleansed his wound and put in a couple of stitches. Where'd you get all the sheep?”

Ian shrugged. “I've been traveling a bit, purchasing some here and there. I'm hoping the five coming from Ireland will be here next month. I'll be getting me ram then, as well.”

“How large of a flock do you want?”

“I'm not certain. Me original goal was five hundred. But I don't want to stress the land too much and I'm not ready to hire a crew. If I can have three hundred after two years I'll be happy.”

“That's a lot of sheep.”

“It takes quite a few to make a profit. But I'll be content to make ends meet in me third year.”

Hope nodded. “I'm impressed with your knowledge and goals.”

“Sheep raising has been in me family for generations. I be carin' for sheep when I was a young fella of five. Perhaps before, but I remember when I was five.” Ian suddenly jumped up. “Forgive me for waggin' me tongue. It is late, and ye will be ridin' home in the dark.”

“If you will light the lanterns for me on the carriage, I'll be fine. I'd like to stay and help with Tara but it wouldn't be proper.”

“Aye. I'll take care of the lanterns.”

Ian hustled off to the carriage before he said or did something totally inappropriate.
I was such a fool, Lord. Hope is a remarkable woman. Any man would be proud to have her as his wife. Give her safe journeys tonight, Lord.

Hope bent down and kissed each dog, whispered in their ears. For the first time in his life, he was jealous of his dogs.

“Good night, Mr. McGrae. I'll be back tomorrow to see how Tara and Conall are doing. Can I bring you anything? I can't see you leaving the ranch for a couple of days.”

“Aye, that be true. I'll be needing some eggs and bread.”

“I'll take care of it. You try and get some rest.”

“Thank ye, Miss Lang.”

“You're welcome.” Ian watched as Hope went to her carriage.

How much better it would have been to have her by his side as his wife right now. Ian wagged his head then turned his attention on his dogs. “Come inside, there be a bit of a chill in the air tonight.”

Conall whimpered but obeyed. Thankfully, he was walking all right. Ian lifted the linen with the pups and Tara followed behind, keeping her eyes on her pups. Ian looked down at his sweat- and bloodstained shirt. He poured some water into the basin and cleaned his hands and arms. Then he put his shirt in the water to soak out Conall's blood.

He was grateful the Lord had spared the dog. Florida seemed to have quite a variety of predators. As soon as the dogs were fit he'd recheck the fence. Bringing fifty sheep into the area must be like offering a fresh steak dinner to the bobcat. He rubbed his chin. He'd better consult with Jackson Hastings and William Sanders again about the threats to his livestock.

Ian went back out onto the porch, watched his sheep and sat long into the night. Thoughts of Hope danced in his head. She was remarkable, kind, loving… Was there any way he could court her after all that had happened?

H
ope stopped by Ian's every day for a week to help him with errands. Today Conall's stitches would be coming out. He had been subdued every visit, but Hope could tell the dog wanted to be out running about.

She liked the way Ian doted on his dogs. Would he be the same way with children? But why would she wonder about that?

Ian had been herding the sheep back and forth each day without his dogs while Conall was recovering and Tara was nursing. Tara had six adorable pups, four male and two female. Hope fell in love with all the pups but especially the runt of the litter, whom she named Clare. She sported two brown patches, one over each eye. The tip of her muzzle was white.

Hope placed Ian's supplies on the table and went to Tara's bed, where all six pups were actively nursing. “How are you doing, Tara?”

Tara opened her eye but didn't lift her head. Hope reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of beef jerky she'd brought. “Here you go, girl, a special treat.”

Tara took the treat but stayed in place for the sake of her puppies.

“And how are you, boy?” Hope asked Conall. She flicked her wrist—the signal Ian had shown her—and ordered, “Come.”

Conall wagged his tail and ambled to her side. Hope looked at his healing wound. Ian had made and applied an ointment to keep the infection level down. “It's looking good, boy. Would you like me to take them out?”

Conall woofed.

Hope sat back. It was the first time the dog had ever barked in response to a question from her. “Do you understand me, boy?”

“No, he saw me.”

Hope jumped up and spun around. Ian leaned against the doorjamb, displaying his joyous grin. “But he does trust ye.”

“Mr. McGrae, you startled me.”

“Aye, ye were quite attentive to me dogs. I came to take Conall to work the sheep for a little bit.”

“Is he ready?”

“Absolutely. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't keep that wound covered for another couple of days.”

Hope wiped her hands on the apron of her skirt. “You'll find the items you requested on the table. Also, I brought you some fresh biscuits from the inn.”

“Thank ye. How is Mrs. Arman doing?”

“Quite well. The doctor said she could start doing a few more things around the house. Which is good because Grace isn't one to sit down for too long.”

Ian smiled. “Aye, I understand. I don't know how to thank ye for all the help ye have been to me.” He looked down at his work boots.

Hope swallowed. She prayed he'd stay in the doorway. The desire to be in his arms grew with each passing day. She came by to help at times when she knew he wouldn't be at home.

He raised his head and focused on her. “Ye are a godsend, Miss Lang.”

“It is a pleasure to help. Now I must be off. I have to take in the sheets and iron some items for the Armans before my day ends.”

“Oh, ye should know the lawyer was able to fix the records. Even so, I was served a legal notice today. Me attorney said it was nothing and he would handle it.”

“This really makes no sense at all. I can't believe the judge agreed to hear the case.”

“It does baffle. But I will trust the Lord.”

Hope smiled. “That is a good attitude.”

“I have to or I would not sleep.”

Ian paused and then took a step into the house, closing the gap between them to little more than three feet.

“Hope,” he whispered. “Would ye dine with me once the dogs are fit to be on their own?”

Hope locked onto his penetrating gaze. Unable to face her own growing attraction, she closed her eyes. “I don't think I should.”

He took another step closer. “Ye must know I care for ye. And if I'm not mistaken, ye care for me, too.”

Hope struggled to hold back tears, then focused on Ian's luminous blue eyes. Her heart sank. “I'm sorry, I…”

Ian squared his shoulders and stood soldier straight. “I know.” He reached out his hands. Tentatively, she placed her hands in his open palms. “Father,” he prayed, “Hope and I are scared and confused as to whether or not we should pursue a relationship. We ask Ye to guide us and help us to know if this be Thy will and not our own. In Jesus's name, amen.”

“Amen,” she repeated, then opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Thank you.” A calm washed over her.

“'Tis me pleasure, and I meant every word, Hope. I'm as confused as ye.”

Hope chuckled. “We are quite a pair, you and I.”

“Aye, that we are, me love, that we are.”

Hope's eyes widened.

“Sorry, I meant it as a term of endearment, not as a proclamation of me love for ye.”

Hope nodded, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

She certainly knew enough of her Irish heritage to understand the term of endearment. “I better go now.”

He released her hands and stepped to the side. “God's blessings, Hope.”

“And on you as well, Ian.”

She left his place as if her feet were being licked by the fires of hell. Every part of her wanted to wrap him in her arms and kiss him. But they would need more to build a relationship than their physical attraction and romantic feelings for one another. A lot more.
Did he have to be so handsome, Lord? And why'd You give him such incredible eyes? They light his soul and reveal his heart. He's such a strong and direct person. You know how much I like that.

* * *

Ian was falling in love with Hope. He knew it; she knew it. But he had to agree, it was too soon. Nearly two months had passed since his arrival in St. Augustine. He'd given up on her before he'd even met her. He'd never even wanted to get to know Hope Lang. He had decided sight unseen she wouldn't be what he wanted in a wife, but now with each passing day he saw new signs of how wonderful she would be as his wife. Then again, she was raised with wealth and prosperity. Perhaps she didn't see him as worthy?

“If I can't be patient and wait for her, I am not worthy, am I, boy?” He looked down at Conall. “Let's remove those stitches. Lie down.”

Conall obeyed. Ian knelt down beside him and with the tip of his knife cut each stitch and gently pulled them out one at a time. “Good boy.” Then he put some salve on Conall's wound and wrapped him up with the bandage Hope had purchased for him. “I've got to stop thinking about her, boy.”

“About who?” Gabe stood in the doorway.

Ian groaned. “I need to remember to close doors.”

“Wouldn't matter, you don't have windows yet. So, who do you need to stop thinking about?” Gabe teased.

“Doesn't matter, she's not available.”

“Well, then, that is a problem.” Gabe came in and sat himself down at the table. “I brought you some lunch and I wanted to speak with you about your investments.”

“I don't have any investments.”

“Which is why I wanted to speak with you.” Gabe smiled.

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. “I take it this is what ye do for work?”

“Yes, I'm a financial advisor. You have a lot of money sitting in the bank. I can help you make that money work for you.”

“I'm not a fancy man, Gabe. I'm a simple man. I invest in me work and I work with me hands.”

“I'm not saying that's a bad thing. In fact, I think it is a good thing. Land and livestock are good investments.” Gabe passed over one of the paper-wrapped sandwiches.

“Can we sit down? I'm not going to pressure you into buying or investing right now, mostly because I do not know your business. But it can't be too much different than the beef market. Buy low, sell high—it's that simple. However, there are many variables that a man must consider. Your pups for instance. I figure you'll be training them, but you won't be needing all six. Those can be sold to some of the cattle ranchers in the area. Everyone is amazed by your dogs.”

“I raised, trained and sold dogs in Ireland. Mostly Irish sheepdogs. Truth is, ye could earn eighty pounds sterling back in Ireland for the sale of a well-trained hunting dog, but I sold sheepdogs for fifty pounds. At the current exchange rate that would equal two hundred and fifty dollars American, which I don't think a farmer would pay.”