A Stor Mo Chroi

By Marion

Rating: PG (for some violence)

The Ponderosa and the Cartwrights are not mine (except for Annie and her Irish uncles, of course) Thank you to Mr. Dortort for allowing me to play on the Ponderosa for a little while. This story is purely for entertainment and is not intended to infringe on the rights of anyone else involved with Bonanza and Ponderosa.

As always, many thanks to Nancy for her beta-read!

The young woman sat in the rocker in front of the fireplace, one hand resting protectively over her expanding waist. She smiled as she felt the rippling movement that signified all was well with the babe that grew there. The doctor had been concerned that the shock, so close to her time, would somehow harm the child. But she was stronger than that. She glanced at the letter in her other hand. Besides, the news had been no great surprise. Long dreaded, perhaps, but no surprise.

She looked down at the rosary resting on her nightgown. His mam's beads, he had called them, all those years ago. She shook her head. Had it truly been almost ten years since that magical Christmas? Ten years since that horrific Epiphany? Unbelievable, and yet here she was, almost twenty-five, a married woman with children of her own.

Christmas that year had been an especially wondrous time, so full of love and of laughter that she could not have imagined the awful days that had followed. And yet, looking back, she had seen the signs but she hadn't understood them. Or maybe she had chosen to ignore them.

She had noticed a few oddities on those days leading up to Christmas. He was moody, sometimes stalking away from the family. Whenever drinks were served, he always drank water. But it wasn't until after Christmas – after St.Stephen's Day, she thought, nodding – that she started to realize what the problem might be.

The Sunday after Christmas, we all attended church services. Well, all the Cartwrights did, anyway. When Uncle Ben asked Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat to join us, they declined. I had supposed it was because they were Catholic, but I was wrong, although I didn't find that out until later.

I tried to wear some of my new (well, old, I guess) jewelry to services, but Uncle John frowned, and reminded me that vanity had no place in church. I sighed a bit too loudly, and I might have rolled my eyes, for the next thing I knew I was listening to a lecture reminiscent of one of Mr. Hawthorne's Puritan ministers. I guess my family's Calvinist roots run deep, and I was fortunate that Uncle John finished before Uncle Ben came into the house.

I sat between Uncle John and Uncle Ben during the service, and I noticed that Joe was between Adam and Uncle Ben. I tried very hard to listen to the sermon, but the minister seemed to be trying to make up for all the Sundays he missed, and he just kept talking. I started looking around a little, to see if any of the girls were wearing new clothes. I couldn't see much, wedged between my two uncles as I was, so I leaned forward slowly. I didn't go too far, for fear that someone would notice, but I was able to see Ro wearing a pretty new dress. I was trying to picture how the style would look in one of the silks that Uncle John had brought me when I felt a none-to-gentle rap on my left knee. Uncle John was looking down, one finger raised. I smiled weakly and sat back. A one finger warning meant I would be called upon to recite the lesson on the way home, two fingers would guarantee a stern lecture about behavior and three fingers was something to be avoided. I slid my eyes over toward Uncle Ben to see if he noticed. He wasn't looking at me, but I could tell by his frown that he had indeed noticed.

Sure enough, on the way home, Uncle Ben asked me several questions about the service. Unfortunately, because I had spent so much time thinking about dresses, I wasn't able to answer many of his questions and so I spent the afternoon at the table memorizing the Bible passages that Uncle Ben assigned me.

I had almost finished memorizing the verses when Uncle Seamus came into the house. He stood by my side until I finally looked up.

"You didn't get enough of that in church?"

I blushed. "I didn't pay attention enough in church." Anxious to change the topic, I blurted, "Why didn't you come with us? I'm sure the minister wouldn't have minded even if you're Catholic."

He scowled. "I've no use for that stuff." He made it sound like a nasty medicine.

I shook my head. "Surely you need God, Uncle Seamus."

I can't describe the look on his face. It was something between sadness and loathing, and it shook me to see it.

"I've been to Hell, girl. God has abandoned me. Why do I need Him?" He practically spat the words out before he turned on his heel and stormed off.

"To lead you out, Uncle Seamus." But my voice was soft, and he did not hear me.

I stared at my Bible for a while longer, until Uncle Ben came in and sat beside me. He took my Bible, opened it to one of his marked pages and waited expectantly. When I said nothing, he tapped my hand.

"Well? Start with the Psalm."

I shook myself; it wouldn’t do to be unable to recite my verses. I took a deep breath and began:

To the hills I'll lift mine eyes; Ah, from whence shall come my help?

All my help comes from the Lord, Who hath made the heaven and earth.

He will e'er be my guide, And thy foot shall never slide;

God Who keepeth Israel, Never slumbers, never sleeps.

God thy keeper still shall stand, as a shade on thy right hand;

Neither sun by day shall smite, nor the silent moon by night.

God shall guard from all ill, keep thy soul in safety still;

Both without and in thy door, He will keep thee ever more.

Uncle Ben nodded. "Good girl." When I didn't say anything, he leaned close to me. "Annie, is something wrong?"

I didn't say anything for a long time, unable to think of how to ask my question. He waited patiently. Finally I looked him in the eye. "Does God abandon people?"

His eyes widened in surprised, but Uncle Ben only shook his head. "It's as the Psalm says, Annie. God will keep thee ever more."

"But sometimes man will turn his back on God?"

I think I touched upon a dark time in my uncle's memory, for I watched his face cloud, and I had to strain to hear him. "Sometimes. But if he lifts his eyes to the hills, man will notice whence cometh his help."

I blinked back tears, for I knew Uncle Ben was thinking of his own dark times, after Aunt Inger was killed. Adam and I had talked about that once, and I remember that Papa said Tante Marie had saved Uncle Ben somehow. I know that Papa more than once said that Mama had saved him, although from what he never did say.

"Does that mean that God uses people to save other people?"

He tilted his head and gave me a funny look. He said nothing for a long time, but then he slowly nodded his head. "But, Annie, the person who needs saving must want to be saved."

He waited patiently until I nodded that I understood. "What's this about?"

I chewed on my cheek a minute. "What's Van Dieman's Land like? I think you said you were there once."

He sat back and blew out a breath. "I was, but I didn't see much. I heard more." He rested his arm on the table, and crossed his ankle over his other knee. "Captain Stoddard wouldn't let me go into Port Arthur alone, and he only went to the parts that were more respectable." Uncle Ben shrugged. "It's not a place I'd care to visit again."

"What stories did you hear?" I leaned forward, hoping he would tell me what I wanted to know.

"None that I would repeat to you." He leaned back and looked at me from the bottom of his eyes. "Has your uncle Seamus been telling you stories?"

"No, sir. But I haven't asked."

He shook his head. "Then don't, Anna. If he loves you, he won't tell you anyway. And if you love him, you won't ask."

"All right, Uncle Ben, I won't ask."

He stood slowly. "I don't need to hear the rest of the verses. I hope I don't need to remind you to behave in church again."

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I mean, no sir." He winked at me and told me I could read my book.

I spent the rest of the afternoon reading The Scarlet Letter, which Mr. Orowitz had loaned Adam and me the last time Adam was in town. Adam had already finished it, and he was anxious that I finish so that we might discuss it. I found the problems of Hester Prynne took me away from the problems of my uncle Seamus.

Uncle Seamus was very quiet at supper, although perhaps he just couldn't get a word in edgewise, the way Uncle Pat was talking. He was going on about his mining exploits in Hangtown, and Hoss even mentioned his brief mining experience, although he didn't say much once he saw Uncle Ben frowning at him. Uncle Ben must have really lit into him for Hoss to look so nervous now, almost three years later.

I noticed that when Uncle Ben served the after supper drinks which had become customary since my uncles' arrival, he served Uncle Seamus a glass of water. That was nothing new, but what did surprise me was the way in which Uncle John watched Uncle Seamus take the glass. I suppose I had noticed it before, but I never really thought much about it. Was Uncle John making sure that Uncle Seamus didn't drink any alcohol? I sat thinking about that until finally Uncle Ben sent Joe and me to bed.

I had just said my prayers, under the covers because it was so cold, when there was a knock at the door, followed quickly by Uncle John coming into my room. It had become a nightly ritual for my uncles to take turns saying good night to me, although I do wish they would wait for me to tell them to come in.

"Annie?" Uncle John strode across the room, grabbed my chair and settled down next to the bed. "Are you angry with me?"

I was surprised. "Why would I be angry with you?"

He shrugged. "Because of this morning."

My face burned. "Oh." I had been annoyed with him, but the trouble was my fault, not his. "I was the one not paying attention in church, Uncle John, not you."

He grinned then. "Your father used to get into trouble on Sundays for the very same reason."

"Oh, really?" I tried to hide my own grin. "He told me that you used to get into trouble on Sundays."

It was his turn to blush. "I suppose we all did, when we were boys. I think the raised fingers were Uncle John's warning originally, and that's how Father learned it." He shrugged. "It took us one time each to know that when Father raised that third finger, we would regret it."

I'm not sure what possessed me to ask my next question; perhaps I was emboldened by his good humor. "Uncle John, why do you watch Uncle Seamus to make sure he doesn't drink?"

Uncle John sat up in a flash; his smile was wiped from his face. He turned his head slightly and his eyes narrowed. "Is that why you were looking at me tonight? I think you need to mind your business, Anna, not mine, and certainly not Seamus's."

I refused to be cowed by his spark of anger. "He's my uncle, and I have every right to know…"

He raised his finger. "You have no rights in this, young lady, and you would do well to remember that."

I lowered my eyes. "Yes, sir." I glanced at him to see if my contrite expression was softening his anger, and it was. "It's just, well, sir, I worry about Uncle Seamus."

"We all do, Annie." His voice was soft and I almost missed his words. "Yes, I am watching him, but I don't think he needs me to keep him from drinking."

Some men had trouble with alcohol – my father had been one of them. I told Uncle John that, but he didn't seem surprised.

"Ben had mentioned that to me. We three brothers are not strangers to that problem, Annie. But we regained our mastery over drink, and Seamus is only still learning that." He stood abruptly. "But I have said more than I should." He raised his finger again. "You mustn't say anything to Seamus, Annie. It would hurt him to think that you knew."

I gave my word, and he bent over to kiss me goodnight. I lay in my bed for a long time, listening to the sounds in the outer room. Finally I heard Adam and Hoss go to bed. Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat had retired to the bunkhouse when Uncle John was talking with me, so it was only Uncle Ben and Uncle John left. I stole from my bed and opened the door a crack. I felt some shame as I eavesdropped on my uncles, and no small dread, for the consequences would have been severe had I been caught. But, I knew that eavesdropping would the only way to learn more about Uncle Seamus.

My uncles spoke of inconsequential things at first, and I was about to give up and return to my bed when I heard Uncle Ben say my name.

"Annie was asking about Seamus this afternoon, about what happened in Van Dieman's land."

Uncle John said nothing for a moment. "Indeed? She was asking about him when I went to say goodnight as well."

I could hear a tapping noise. Uncle Ben must be filling his pipe. "What did you tell her?" A quick strike of the Lucifer, and then the smell of the tobacco wafted toward me.

"I told her to mind her business, not Seamus's." A low laugh – Uncle John must have found something amusing.

"Surely you don't expect her to do that, John! You've seen how much like Eddie she is. When did he ever mind his own business?" I could hear the sound of glasses clinking; they must be pouring themselves more brandy. "What do you know about Seamus, anyway?"

The sofa creaking slightly. "You know sailors, Ben. He hasn't spoken much about what happened there, but he's said enough that I know it was bad for him. He was transported in the early 40s for being a Ribbonman. That's some kind of Irish group against the English. While he was serving his sentence, he was beaten for offenses like having boots when he shouldn't, and for having a kangaroo skin. He refused to work, and was placed in solitary confinement – in a box, really – for days at a time. After that, he was sent to serve his parole with a sheep farmer. He won't say anything about that time, which leads me to believe it was bad. Eventually he escaped and lived in the bush. He was accused of murdering a constable…" Here I had to hold back my gasp for fear of being discovered. "But I do not believe it." Uncle John let out a sigh. "He is capable of violence, yes, especially if he has been drinking. But, he has not had any alcohol since shortly after coming on board, and I believe he means to stay away from drink."

Uncle Ben said something, but I could not understand him. I could make out Uncle John's response.

"Ben, you must believe me that I would not have brought Seamus here if I thought he would hurt someone. I was hoping that seeing Annie would do him good, but to be truthful, while seeing her has been a good thing, I'm not certain that Padraig is a good influence on Seamus. I don't think Pat wants to see the bad things about his brother; he thinks of Seamus as he was before he was transported."

Again, Uncle Ben spoke so softly that I couldn't make out his words, but I could hear Uncle John's response.

"In part because of our captain. He's one of the Macys from Nantucket. You remember that family – anyway, he's a Quaker, and he's committed himself to helping Seamus. But, I suppose you could say I'm really doing it for Eddie. I've always regretted not making amends with him, and I guess by helping his brother-in-law, I'm trying to help Eddie."

The sofa creaked again, and this time I heard footsteps crossing the floor toward my room. I scrambled to my feet, but I wasn't fast enough. Uncle Ben threw open the door, reached down to grab me by my arm and hauled me upright.

He bent down so he was looking me in the eye, his free hand pointing toward the door. "Can you give me one reason why I should not take you out to the barn right now?" His brow was furrowed, and the vein in his forehead throbbed.

It finally happened. I was so tongue-tied that I could not speak. It wasn't that I was afraid of Uncle Ben – I was never afraid of him – but I had lost count of the number of times he had warned me against eavesdropping. I looked at him wide-eyed, my mouth hanging open. I could see Uncle John standing behind him, looking just as angry.

I continued to stare until Uncle Ben finally let go of my arm. He shook his finger to punctuate every word. "If I find out that you have repeated one word of what you have heard to Seamus, or to anyone else, I will take you out to that barn, and you will regret your indiscretion. Do I make myself clear?" His voice was low, he was almost hissing.

I nodded and finally blurted out "yes, sir." I closed my mouth and looked at Uncle John again. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ben. I'm sorry, Uncle John."

Uncle Ben pointed to my bed. "Sometimes sorry isn't enough, Anna. Go to bed. I don't care to discuss this tonight."

He watched me hurry into bed and pull the covers about me. Then both uncles swept from the room as quickly as they had entered.

I laid awake for a while thinking of what had happened to Uncle Seamus, and of my uncles' justified anger with me. When I finally dozed, my slumber was disturbed by odd dreams that I could not remember when I woke.

My uncles were outside when I came out of my room the next morning, and they did not come in until breakfast was ready. They all bid me good morning, but I could feel the disapproval of Uncle Ben and Uncle John. I spent most of breakfast with downcast eyes.

Uncle Ben reminded Joe and me that we would be going to school today, and that we were to meet him at the trading post in the afternoon. Other than that, the breakfast conversation revolved around work that needed doing. When I rose to clear the dishes, Uncle Ben also rose.

"Hop Sing, would you please take care of the dishes this morning? I need to speak to Anna in my room. Adam, please be sure Sadie is ready for your cousin."

I swallowed nervously, conscious of my cousins' eyes staring at me, and Uncle Pat and Uncle Seamus looking at me curiously. Uncle Ben nodded to Uncle John, who also stood, and the three of us went to Uncle Ben's room.

After Uncle John closed the door behind us, he leaned up against it, his arms crossed. Uncle Ben stood near Uncle John, one elbow leaning on his dresser, the other hand resting on his hip. I wasn't sure what was expected of me, so I stood facing them both, hands behind my back respectfully, and waited.

Uncle John stood upright and stepped toward me. It took all my willpower to keep from stepping back, but I held fast.

"Last night, did I not tell you to mind your business, and not the business of others?" He was a scant few inches from me, and I had to crane my neck upward to keep my eyes on his.

"Yes, sir." Did my voice sound as odd to them as it did to me?

"And do you consider listening by a partially opened door – a door which I had closed completely – to be minding your business? You will look at me, Anna."

I lifted my eyes again. "No, sir."

Uncle John raised an eyebrow. "And does your uncle Benjamin tolerate eavesdropping in this house?"

I glanced back at the floor. "No, sir, he does not."

"How do you think Seamus would feel if he knew that you had learned of his tribulations?"

I shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't know, sir."

This went back and forth for a few minutes. I had never thought to meet a man as capable of delivering scathing lectures as Uncle Ben, but Uncle John was every bit as severe as Uncle Ben. I wanted to crawl back into bed and forget what had happened.

I wasn't to be that lucky. Uncle John leaned back against the door and crossed his arms. He nodded to Uncle Ben, who stood up straight and walked toward me.

"Anna, it grieves me to know that I cannot have a private conversation in my home without worrying that someone is listening. Now go to school."

I couldn't look at either uncle. I whispered a quick yes, sir, and left the room.

Thinking back, I remember being surprised that that was all Uncle Ben had to say, and yet now I know that it was all he had needed to say, for I never eavesdropped again. The idea that I had caused my uncle grief hurt far worse than any whipping would have.

I wiped away the tears that blinded me as I grabbed my books and lunch from the sideboard. I almost bumped into Adam and Hoss when I hurried out the door. I didn't miss their sympathetic looks; undoubtedly they both thought they knew why I was crying.

Joe held the reins as I swung into the saddle. "What'dya do?" He watched as I settled in and then handed back the reins. "Couldn'ta been too bad, you can sit."

I shrugged as we headed toward town. "They caught me eavesdropping last night."

"And you can sit? You're lucky."

I shrugged again. I didn't really want to talk about it. Fortunately Joe took the hint and we rode all the way in silence.

School did not go well, as I was distracted all day. I spent the time that I should have been studying thinking about Uncle Seamus. I truly wanted to help him. The more I thought about his problems, the more I realized he needed the love and support of a family, and I was his family.

Unfortunately, Mr. Taylor caught me not paying attention, and he made me stay in for recess. To make things worse, he held me back as he dismissed class for the day. I stood before his desk, waiting while he finished making notes on a paper. Finally he looked up.

"Annie, I haven't written a note to your uncle, but I expect much more from you than what I saw today."

I squirmed under his scrutiny. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk. "Is something wrong?"

I thought a minute. "No, sir. Nothing's wrong. I was thinking of other things. It won't happen again, sir."

He looked over his glasses at me, and I could tell he didn't believe me. "I hope not. If it does, I shall send that note home. And I expect you to make up your unfinished work this evening."

"Yes, sir." I was anxious to be dismissed, before Uncle Ben realized that I had been kept after. Mr. Taylor waved his hand, and I ran from the schoolhouse. Joe was waiting for me with the horses.

"I figured I'd wait for you here, so Pa wouldn't notice that you were kept after." He winked at me.

"Thanks, Joe. I owe you." I took Sadie's reins and we walked to the post. As luck would have it, Uncle Ben wasn't the one who came into town. Adam, Hoss and Uncle Seamus were all waiting for us at the trading post. Hoss was loading the last sack of flour onto the wagon.

"You're late." Adam came down the steps and scowled at Joe.

Joe shrugged. "Wasn't me, it was Annie." That was Joe - willing to help me but not about to take the blame for any trouble.

I looked from one cousin to the other. "Adam, you aren't going to tell Uncle Ben, are you?" I leaned toward him and lowered my voice. "I'm in enough trouble right now…"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I noticed that this morning." He shook his head. "I won't say anything."

Uncle Seamus interrupted us. "Annie, mo chroi?"

"Yes, sir?" I hurried up the steps to stand in front of him, but I couldn't quite bring myself to look him in the eye. He put his arm around me.

"Annie, mo chroi, Padraig and I were wondering if we could impose upon you to make us some more of those shirts. We'll pay you, of course."

I shook my head. "I'll not take your money, but I'll make you the shirts, if you buy the cloth." I smiled to myself. Here was a way that I could begin to help him.

He and I went into the trading post, and Mrs. Orowitz helped me pick out some fabric that I thought would suit my uncles. Uncle Seamus sent me outside while he paid the bill.

I stood leaning on the rail, looking around the town. Not much snow had fallen here, and icicles were hanging from the roofs where the snow had already melted. I could see my cousins down the street; it looked like Hoss and Adam were showing a horse to Joe at the livery. They saw me looking at them, and waved. Joe gave the horse a final pat, and the three of them headed toward the trading post.

"Good afternoon, Miss Cartwright. I trust you had a pleasant Christmas?"

I turned around in time to see Jack Wolf tip his hat at me. Flustered, I stammered out some kind of response. Uncle Ben's admonition to avoid the man, combined with my own embarrassing memories of last spring, drove all rational thought from my brain.

"Here now, what's this?" Uncle Seamus's sharp tone cut through my fog, and I looked at him. He was frowning.

Mr. Wolf smiled and turned to Uncle Seamus. "Allow me to introduce myself." He extended his hand. "I am Ja…"

"Sure, and I know who you are – and what you do. What I'm wanting to know is why the likes of you is talking to this young lady."

Mr. Wolf looked like he smelled something foul. "The likes of me? Fine words from a Mick such as yourself." He reached out and took my arm. "Annie, come away from…"

Uncle Seamus exploded in fury. He yanked me away from Mr. Wolf, and spun me behind him. He grabbed Mr. Wolf's collar and cocked his fist to punch the man. I shrieked, and suddenly Adam and Hoss were running past me. Hoss grabbed my uncle's free hand, while Adam grabbed the hand holding Mr. Wolf.

"Seamus!" Adam shouted as Uncle Seamus struggled to free himself from Hoss's grip. "Seamus! Don't!"

By that time Mr. Orowitz was standing in the doorway. I hurried to stand beside Uncle Seamus.

"Uncle Seamus!" I grabbed the arm that Adam held fast. "Uncle Seamus!"

Finally Uncle Seamus calmed down. He glanced at me, and then at my cousins. Joe was standing on the steps, mouth agape, while Adam and Hoss held Uncle Seamus's arms. He shook his head. "Let go of me, lads."

Hoss waited until Adam nodded, and they both released him. Uncle Seamus glared at Mr. Wolf, swooped down to retrieve his bundle that he had dropped, and he stalked off the porch.

Mr. Wolf stared at my family and opened his mouth to speak, but Adam stopped him. "Mr. Wolf, I believe my father has made it clear that he would prefer you not speak with my cousin. Good day, sir." Adam put his hand behind my back and directed me toward the wagon, Hoss and Joe following behind. Uncle Seamus was already seated, and I climbed up next to him. Adam tied Sadie to the wagon, and pulled himself onto the seat as well. We rode in silence for several miles.

"Ah, Adam, I'd appreciate it if you'd not mention that to your father, or to John."

To my surprise, Adam grinned. "Seamus, my father has been itching for the chance to flatten Jack Wolf." Adam turned to Seamus and winked. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that to my father, either."

Seamus laughed, and I relaxed. Certainly I was no stranger to men with quick tempers, and I recalled Uncle Ben nearly coming to blows with Jack Wolf in the past. Uncle Seamus was only being protective of me, like Uncle Ben and Uncle John were.

Fortunately the subject of Uncle Seamus's fight never came up once we got home. Uncle Ben and Uncle John seemed to have forgiven me. Neither of them said anything more on the topic anyway.

I was hoping to start the shirts for my uncles, but between chores and my extra homework, I didn't have time. Uncle Ben raised an eyebrow when he saw me doing so much schoolwork, but fortunately he didn't ask.

When we woke the next morning, the sky was ominously gray and Uncle Ben decided that Joe and I would stay home from school. Ever since Adam and I were caught in a raging storm last winter, my uncle has become more cautious about letting us away from the ranch in the winter. He went with Uncle John, Adam and Hoss to check on the herds, while Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat helped Joe with the yard chores. He told me to stay inside and help Hop Sing. This was one time of year where I didn't mind Uncle Ben treating me differently because I'm a girl. I don't enjoy the cold weather.

Once I finished my chores, I was able to spend time cutting fabric. I cut enough for two shirts by the time Hop Sing needed me to help with lunch.

I had just finished setting the table when the door burst open, and Uncle Pat hurried in, Uncle Seamus leaning on his shoulder. Hop Sing hurried to help bring Uncle Seamus to the sofa.

Uncle Seamus looked embarrassed. "Slipped and twisted my ankle a little. I'll be fine. Padraig is worrying over nothing."

Uncle Pat was busy removing Uncle Seamus's boot. "Sure, nothing he says. And wasn't this the ankle you broke when we were boys?" He glanced up at Hop Sing, hovering anxiously behind. "Can you help him?"

Hop Sing knelt beside the sofa and slowly removed Uncle Seamus's sock. He touched the ankle gently, and turned it slightly. "I have herbs that will help." I almost laughed. Hop Sing always had herbs that would help! "Annie, heat water, please."

I hurried to do his bidding. Uncle Pat stood. "Brother, I'll be leaving you in Hop Sing's excellent care while I finish your chores."

Uncle Seamus snorted. "My chores. As if I'm a spailpin fanach working to earn my bread and bed."

I looked over from the stove. "A what, Uncle Seamus?"

"A spailpin fanach –a man who has to hire himself out day to day. It's something of an insult." Uncle Seamus winced slightly and Hop Sing came to the stove to see if the water was the right temperature.

He seemed satisfied, for he poured the water into a deep bowl and shook one of his mixtures over the top. He carried the bowl to the sofa and placed it in front of Uncle Seamus. "Soak foot until lunch. After, you rest for afternoon."

I finished my lunch chores, and set the table. By the time I placed the last fork, my cousins and uncles came into the house. Uncle Seamus turned toward the door as Uncle Pat shrugged his coat off.

"I'm fine, so no need to ask."

I hid my smile, for Uncle Seamus had been fussing to get up for the past twenty minutes.

"And you can stop that grinning, girl, and fetch me a towel!" Uncle Seamus was a terrible patient, even worse than Uncle Ben.

Uncle Ben hurried everyone through lunch so they could get back out to finish all the chores before the snow came. Uncle Seamus insisted he was well enough to help, but Uncle Ben refused to listen.

"If Hop Sing tells you to rest, you rest." Uncle Ben put on his hat and hurried out the door.

Uncle Seamus grumbled some more, but he sat by the fire. I gathered my sewing and settled onto the sofa. "I'll keep you company, Uncle Seamus."

He growled at me, but I merely smiled. I was used to men being grumpy when they were sick.

Neither of us spoke for a long while until I finally asked if he would tell me a story.

"A story you're wanting, is that it? You've not heard enough these past days?" Uncle Seamus scowled. "You'll want to be hearing more tales of Ireland, then."

I leaned away, taken aback by his tone. "Not if it will upset you, Uncle Seamus."

"Upset? And why should I get upset?" My uncle rose from his seat and began to pace, limping slightly. "Maybe I should tell you about your cousins, and your mam's cousins, or maybe you want to hear about the family and friends we had in our village? But why should you want to hear about them? They're all dead." He spat out those last words and abruptly stopped pacing.

He turned toward me. "I'm sorry, girl. I shouldn't speak to you so." He collapsed into his chair, and buried his face in his hands. I had to lean forward to hear his words. "They're all gone, Annie. The famine took them, or the coffin ships, or the hangman's noose. Every soul, gone."

I stood and hurried to kneel by his side. I rested my cheek lightly on his knee, facing away from him. "For a long time my father wouldn't tell me anything about my mother. It hurt too much to speak of her. One Christmas, I met a priest – an Irish priest, in fact – and for some reason, he took it upon himself to come to the house and tell my father to talk about Mama."

"Nosey fellas, those priests."

I smiled slightly. "Maybe. I remember overhearing him tell Papa that if Papa didn't talk about Mama, then she was truly dead. But if Papa would remember her, if he would tell me stories, then she would live in my heart forever."

He tsked. "Eavesdroppin's a wicked thing, lass." I was glad he couldn't see my face, for I knew it was bright red with shame. His hand gently stroked my hair, and he said nothing for several minutes. "Perhaps this Irish priest was right, Annie, mo chroi." He sighed. "I've not told you about the ceilis yet, have I. Those were parties, to be sure."

I spent the rest of the afternoon leaning against him, listening to him spin tales of family gatherings. Uncle Pat would play his penny whistle, Uncle Seamus the bodhran, which was a drum, and Mama would sing. My grandfather played the pipes, and his brothers played banjo, or mandolin, or fiddle. I learned about my great-uncle Liam, and his sons Feargus and Niall, who loved to wrestle, and my great-aunt Brighid, who could out-dance anyone in the village, and the pretty Sorcha, the girl Uncle Seamus wanted to marry. This last bit I think Uncle Seamus told me by accident, for he grew very quiet after he mentioned her name, and I could coax nothing more from him.

The time went much too quickly, and I stood when I heard my cousins ride into the yard. I was surprised that Hop Sing had not called me to help him prepare supper, but when I asked him, he merely smiled and told me to set the table.

I could hear everyone stomping their boots on the porch, and as I glanced out the window, I realized that the snow must have started some time ago, for it was already a couple of inches thick.

Supper was a happy meal, and Uncle Seamus was as relaxed as I had ever seen him. He joked and teased with my cousins, and slapped his brother on the back good-naturedly. I think others must have noticed Uncle Seamus's mood as well, for Uncle John gave me a look as though to ask what had I done, and Uncle Pat's grin stretched from ear to ear.

The snow continued for more than two days, and the roads were impassable for another few days after that. We were stuck in the house, or in the yard, and we spent long hours telling stories, or playing games. Uncle Pat and Uncle Seamus held us spellbound with tales that their father had told years ago, about Irish heroes and legends from Ireland's pagan days. Uncle Ben and Uncle John traded sea-stories, each one more outlandish than the previous one, until even Joe didn't believe a word of it.

After a few days, my family began to feel the effects of too much togetherness. Joe and I were supposed to work on lessons at the table, but he bothered me so much that Uncle Ben had to separate us. Hoss and Adam squabbled repeatedly over a chess game and Uncle Ben took it away from them. My mother's brothers began to spend much of their time alone, in the bunkhouse, although Uncle John stayed in the house with us, except to sleep.

By the fourth day, we were all short-tempered. After lunch, Uncle Ben decided that everyone except for me would ride out to check on the cattle, or to hunt for fresh meat. Even Hop Sing was going with them. I was feeling stir crazy, and wanted to go riding, cold weather or no. When I objected to being left, Uncle Ben silenced me with a look. Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat were in the bunkhouse dressing, and Hoss and Adam were saddling the horses. Uncle Ben told Joe and Uncle John to hurry and get ready, and then he headed outside.

I was in a bad mood as I started to clear the table. Joe was finishing up his lunch and I pulled the plate away from him.

"Fine, be like that!" He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, as though to say I could clear the whole table. Unfortunately, he managed to knock the pitcher of milk over, spilling the contents all over the table.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What do you..." My tirade was cut short by a sharp pain to my backside, and I whirled around to fend off further assault. A scowling Uncle John towered over me.

"That may be acceptable where your uncles come from, but I can assure you that such profane language is not acceptable in this house! Do you understand?"

I don't know what startled me more, that I had been caught swearing, or that Uncle John had swatted me. I could only stare at him for a minute.

"Anna Marie, I asked you a question."

He did? I saw his hands drop near his belt and the question popped back into my mind.

"Yes, sir, I understand, and I'm sorry." I glanced around, hoping he would excuse me. I knew better than to walk away.

But Uncle John wasn't finished with me, not by a long shot. He proceeded to give me a lecture that singed my ears. As he spoke, I was reminded once again that he was now a second mate, and no doubt used to dressing down errant sailors. I took furtive glances about, hoping and praying that Uncle Ben did not come into the house while Uncle John was speaking.

My prayers were unanswered. No, I amend that. Papa said prayers were always answered, just not always the way we would hope. As Uncle John was finishing with a "your uncle Ben had to remind you that you are not mistress of this house, and I am sure he would not be pleased to hear that you have forgotten," the door opened and Uncle Ben walked in.

He looked from Uncle John, who was leaning toward me, finger extended, to me, standing straight, hands tucked respectfully behind my back, and he frowned.

"What's this?"

Nothing would do but that Uncle John explain why he was lecturing me. Uncle Ben was not happy, and he gave me a scathing talk on acceptable language. He finished with a promise of a different kind of talk if I got into any more trouble that day.

Uncle Ben and Uncle John went outside, leaving me alone. I tried not to sulk, but it just wasn't fair. And to top it off, Joe hadn't cleaned up the spill that started the whole debacle! I was busy wiping that up when Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat came into the house, laughing.

"Annie, sweetheart, pour your old uncles some o' the stuff, would you? To warm us before we go into the cold."

My eyes went wide. "Uncle Pat, I…"

He waved his hand at me. "Don't worry, you'll not get in trouble. I'm sure Benjamin won't mind."

I glanced over at Uncle Seamus. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Uncle Seamus scowled. "Just do as you're told for once, girl."

I hurried over to the hutch and poured one glass, which I proffered to Uncle Pat. "Uncle Seamus, I'll get you a glass of water."

His eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked for."

"I'll get you the water." I started to turn when I saw him lift his hand, and I felt a sudden, sharp pain as he cuffed me on the ear.

"Next time do as you're told, girl." He spun on his heel and hurried out the door. Uncle Pat shook his head at me, and followed close behind him.

I stood in shock for a minute. I had never been hit like that before. Certainly I was no stranger to physical chastisement; both my father and my uncle Ben believed strongly in the Biblical admonition that to spare the rod was to spoil the child. Even Uncle John was not adverse to the occasional smack, but I had never been hit on the head.

Adam could tell right away that something was wrong when he came into the house a few minutes later, and he hurried to my side. I found myself explaining the entire incident.

"Annie, I think you should tell Pa." Adam was looking at my ear, to see if it was bruised. The pain was subsiding, although I could hear a faint ringing still.

I stepped away from him. "I can't! Adam, I already got in trouble today. If I get into more trouble, I'll get a tanning. He said so." I pulled at my cousin's arm. "Please, promise you won't tell."

He looked at me, and nodded reluctantly. "All right, but only if you promise me that if it happens again, you'll tell Pa."

I agreed, convinced that it wouldn't happen again. Adam picked up his rifle, glanced back at me as though to reassure himself that I was all right, and he headed out the door.

I finished cleaning the dishes, and sat with my schoolbooks at the table. I couldn't concentrate, however, because my head hurt, and I finally rummaged through Hop Sing's powders to find the one that would probably help.

It did, and I soon was able to resume my studies. I winced as I touched my ear lightly. I still couldn't believe that my uncle had cuffed me like that, but then I thought back to the stories he had been telling these past few days. Whenever he said that he got into mischief, he would mention that his father or his mother would box his ears.

I relaxed. He was only behaving the way his parents had. He didn't mean anything by it; he just thought I was being disrespectful. His cuff was no different than Uncle John's swat on my backside this morning.

I grinned. I didn't like the swat any more than I liked the cuff! But, as Uncle Ben is always telling me, I knew how to behave if I wanted to avoid the consequences.

When everyone came home, Uncle Seamus went straight to the bunkhouse, and he avoided me for the rest of the day. I wanted to speak with him, but Uncle Pat shook his head and told me to stay inside. When I tried to talk to Uncle Pat about what had happened, he only told me not to answer back next time.

Uncle Seamus wasn't at the breakfast table the next morning. Uncle Pat said Uncle Seamus wasn't feeling well, but assured me that I shouldn't worry. Uncle Ben informed Joe and me before breakfast that we would be going to school that day.

I did my best to pay attention during school, and Mr. Taylor was pleased with my efforts. School was dismissed early, so that we could all get home before dark. I was eager to see Uncle Seamus, so I hurried Joe along when he wanted to dawdle with his friends.

Joe and I were almost home when we spied Uncle Seamus's horse by the side of the road. I asked Joe to go ahead home without me, so I could speak to Uncle Seamus in private. I stopped Sadie beside Uncle Seamus's horse. My uncle was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear sounds nearby. I made my way carefully through the brush, taking care not to slip on the snow, and stopping a couple of times to free my skirt from the briars. I came to a small clearing and found my uncle leaning against a tree, his back to me. He sounded like he was arguing with someone, but I could see no other person.

"Uncle Seamus, are you all right?"

"All right? What kind of fool question is that? Of course I'm not all right." He swayed as he turned, and I could see the bottle in his hand.

"Oh, Uncle Seamus." I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice.

"Oh, Uncle Seamus." My uncle mimicked me. He stepped closer to me, and I could smell the whiskey on him. "Like your mother, you are. Always judging, always telling what to do. 'Oh, Seamus, you mustn't drink.' 'Oh Seamus, don't argue with Da so much.' 'Oh, Seamus, you must stay away from the Ribbonmen.'"

I gathered my skirts around me and turned. "I'm going to get Uncle John."

He grabbed my arm and spun me about. I almost lost my balance.

"I'm talkin' to you, lass. You'll not turn your back." He grabbed my wrists and I could feel his fingers dig into my skin.

"Uncle Seamus, let go of me! I'm going to get Uncle John and he'll help you home." I was starting to feel frightened.

He shook me hard. "You'll not get John!" I tried to wrench my arm loose. I slipped on the snowy slope when he let go of me. I was just regaining my balance when he stepped toward me and in a flash he backhanded me.

The pain shot through my head and I fell back. His expression changed instantly and he stepped toward me.

"Oh, Christ, Annie, mo chroi. What have I done?"

I scrambled to my feet and ran from him. The pain was so bad I could hardly see as I stumbled through the brush. I could feel the branches scratching my face, and I know I ripped my dress as I pulled it free of the thorns. I finally reached the horses and pulled myself onto Sadie's back. I couldn't hear him behind me, but I spurred her on, my only thought to get home before he could hit me again.

Fortunately Sadie knew the way home. She galloped into the yard, slowing only as we approached the barn. I slid off her back and led her into her stall. I wanted to get into the barn without anyone seeing me.

I had no sooner loosened her saddle than I heard Adam behind me.

"Annie, are you insane? Pa'd have your hide if he saw you racing into the yard like that!"

I bit back a sob and I rested my forehead – the only part of my head that wasn't on fire - on Sadie's mane. "Go away, Adam. Leave me alone."

A moment later, I could feel myself being pulled from Sadie's side. "Annie, what's wron…Glory, Annie! What happened to you?" Adam's voice rose in volume. "Did he do this to you?"

I was in a fog, and Adam sounded far away, but as soon as I heard him, and I knew that he knew, I panicked. "Adam, you can't say anything to your father! God above, he'll kill him."

"Pa won't have to. I'll do it myself." Adam pulled a cloth from his pocket and started dabbing at my nose. I tried to bat his hands away but he was relentless. "Annie, you can't hide this."

I glanced down at the cloth, red with blood. I grabbed my cousin's arm.

"Please don't tell him." I hardly knew what I was saying. "I'll cover it up. Please don't tell Uncle Ben."

"Don’t tell me what?" Uncle Ben strode into the barn, his voice full of anger. "If it was don't tell me that about you racing into the yard, well I saw that, young lady. I've warned you for the last…"

Adam stepped away so that my uncle could see me. I hung my head in hopes that my hair would cover my face, but it did not.

"What the…" I can count on one hand the number of times my uncle has been shocked into silence. He quickly closed the distance between us, and, reaching out, he gently lifted my head. I winced with pain as I watched his expression turn from grave concern to unbridled fury, and I knew that I had never seen him truly angry before.

"Who did this?" His shout must have been heard in Eagle Station, and I shrank from the pain it caused in my head. He must have realized that the loud noise hurt, for he repeated his question more softly.

"Please don't kill him." I was crying and my breathing was labored. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have said anything. Please don't kill him."

Uncle Ben's eyes went wide, and he gripped me by my shoulders. "Annie, did Mitch do this?" His voice sounded like a hiss and he let go of me.

I shook my head violently, and instantly regretted the movement. "No, not Mitch. Please don't…"

"Ben, what the Devil is going on out here? We can hear you bellowing in the house!" I could hear, but not see, Uncle John. My knees buckled.

The world went black as someone shouted, "quick, catch her before she…"

When I awoke, I was lying on the sofa. Uncle Ben was sitting beside me, dabbing my face with a wet rag. Hop Sing knelt beside him with a basin of water in his hands. Uncle John was pacing in front of the fireplace, and Uncle Pat was standing behind the sofa, leaning over me. I couldn't see my cousins, but I couldn't imagine they were far away.

"She's awake." Uncle Pat spoke softly. Uncle John stopped pacing and knelt by my side. But it was Uncle Ben who spoke to me first.

"How are you feeling?" The fury that had raged in him, and which had terrified me, was gone, or was buried back inside him.

"Head hurts."

Hop Sing held a glass toward me, and Uncle Ben helped me sit so I could drink Hop Sing's vile concoction. Only the knowledge that it would help the pain made it possible for me to drink it. I sank back onto the pillows.

Uncle John rested his hand on mine. "Annie, who did this to you?"

My eyes flicked to Uncle Pat's, and I saw only sadness. "Oh, Annie, sweetheart. It was Seamus, wasn't it?"

I could hear the door open and everyone turned except for me.

"Yes, Paddy, it was me."

Uncle Pat moved faster than I knew he could. "You villain!" he bellowed followed by words I didn't understand. I could hear the sound of chairs crashing, and then Uncle Ben yelling for Hoss and Adam to "stop him!"

There was a lot of shouting, and the sounds of scuffling, and then the door opened and closed, and everything went silent again. Then I felt someone pick me up and carry me to my bed.

When I awoke, the room was dark except for a dimmed lamp at the side of my bed. I could make out the shape of Uncle Ben asleep in a chair, his feet propped on my footboard. I laughed softly to see him disobeying his own rules.

The noise woke Uncle John, who was sitting by my side. I wondered for a minute how he had managed to get Uncle Ben to give up that chair. Uncle John helped me sit up and he poured me a glass of water.

I took a sip. "Where are Uncle Pat and Uncle Seamus?"

Uncle John leaned close. "They're in the bunkhouse. I don't know if they're sleeping or not." My face must have reflected my concern, for he smiled slightly. "Pat has given his word that he won't harm Seamus." Uncle John took the glass from me. "Seamus had been drinking, Annie."

"I know. I found him by the side of the road, and I made him angry." I wouldn't look at Uncle John as I made my confession.

Uncle John touched my hand. "You did nothing to deserve what Seamus did. Do you understand that?" I shrugged. "Annie, nothing you could do would deserve what Seamus did." When I still said nothing, he tapped my hand slightly. "Annie, you've made Ben angry, haven't you? Or your father?"

"Yes, sir." More times than I liked.

"Did either of them ever punish you that way? Were you ever afraid they would strike you like that?"

I could barely whisper. "No, sir."

"Annie, you didn't make Seamus angry. He has been angry for so long, he has an angry soul. He controls it most of the time, but it's the drink that brings it out."

"How do you know?"

He smiled as he touched the side of my face that didn't hurt. "When you sail with a man, you get to know him, even if he doesn't want you to."

I looked at the foot of the bed to where Uncle Ben was sleeping in his chair. "I was afraid that Uncle Ben would kill him."

Uncle John looked over his shoulder to his brother before he turned back to me. "I'm surprised he didn't. Seamus isn't the only one with a temper, and I would have thought I would have had to haul Ben off Seamus, not Padraig." He smiled wanly. " Only a fool threatens one of Ben's children." He covered my hand with his. "I've told you before, he was that way with your father, too, even if it took a few painful lessons before I understood that."

"It's not my fault that you were a slow learner, John." We both looked as Uncle Ben sat up straight. "How are you feeling, Annie?"

I tried to smile but it hurt too much. "I feel like my nose is broken and my lip is swollen, and I can't see too well. And my head feels like someone put an axe through it. But other than that, I'm fine."

Uncle Ben stood and stretched. "Are you hungry? Hop Sing left some broth on the stove."

"A little."

He started to turn to the door.

"Uncle Ben?"

He turned back to me.

"I'm sorry."

He crossed the room in two strides and he knelt beside Uncle John's chair, near the head of my bed. "Annie, you've done nothing to regret."

"That's what Uncle John said."

He leaned forward and whispered loudly. "He's right, but don't tell him I said so."

I could see Uncle John grinning and I giggled a little. Uncle Ben started to stand, but I grabbed at his hand. "Uncle Ben? Promise you won't send Uncle Seamus away."

His eyes narrowed as he shook his head. "Don't ask me to make that promise. Not right now."

I was asleep before he returned with the broth. When I awoke the next day, the sun was streaming in my window. I couldn't hear anyone in the other room, and seeing as no one told me I had to stay in bed, I struggled to my feet. I looked in my mirror, and promptly wished I had not. My eye was black, my lip was split and my nose had swollen to twice its normal size. A bruise the size and shape of my uncle's hand stretched across my right cheek. I touched it lightly and recoiled at the pain. At least my headache was mostly gone. Both sides of my face had scratches from the branches that struck me as I ran from Uncle Seamus. My arms hurt, and I saw ugly bruises where he had grabbed me.

I blushed when I realized I was wearing only a chemise and petticoats. That meant that someone, Uncle Ben most likely, had removed my dress the night before when he put me in bed. I glanced at my legs and saw scratches on them as well. I wondered for a minute what my wool stockings looked like but I couldn't see them, or the dress I had been wearing. I pulled on a different dress and found some stockings in my dresser. I got dizzy when I bent to button my shoes so I finally gave up and went to see if someone could help.

No one was in the house when I left my room. I shuffled over to the window, and I saw my four uncles by the corral. Uncle Ben was standing ramrod straight, his hand pointing as it does when he is aggravated, and he appeared to be shouting. Uncle Seamus stood with his head hanging. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but I did notice that Uncle Pat and Uncle John stood between Uncle Seamus and Uncle Ben. I started to lower the curtain, and then I saw Uncle John gesture toward the house. Uncle Ben looked over and then hurried across the yard.

I had just sat at the table when he came in. He crossed the room and sat beside me, peering into my eyes and checking my bruises.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Just long enough to get dressed and see how bad I look." I looked around. "I fell asleep before you could give me the broth last night. I don't suppose you saved it?" Uncle Ben stood and hurried over to the stove. "Could I have some coffee, too?" My uncle just scowled. He never lets me drink coffee.

Uncle Ben sat beside me again as he placed the bowl in front of me. "It's afternoon, you know."

I wondered where Hop Sing and my cousins were. It was too cold to go fishing, but I couldn't see them showing up at a neighbor's house and explaining that they had to clear out because of family arguments.

"Eat slowly, Annie. You don't want to get sick."

I sure didn't, so I stopped shoveling the broth into my mouth. "What were you discussing outside?" I rolled my eyes. Could I have asked a more stupid question?

My uncle rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Seamus is leaving tomorrow, Annie. Pat's going with him." I looked up quickly. "It's his decision, but you must understand that I would have told him to leave had he not volunteered. Hop Sing and the boys are in town getting provisions for the trip. John will stay a while longer."

I sighed deeply. No matter what I thought of Uncle Seamus's leaving, I was saddened by what had happened. Christmas had been so perfect.

I think Uncle Ben misunderstood my sigh. "Annie, I can't take the risk of allowing Seamus to stay. I don't know what happened yesterday that sent him into the woods with that bottle, but-."

"I think he was upset because…" I stopped, not wanting to admit that I had been in trouble.

Uncle Ben leaned closer to me. "Why would he be upset?"

I looked at my bowl, not wanting to see his reaction. "Because he got mad at me before, and he boxed my ear."

"He hit you before?" My uncle's tone made me look up. I didn't much care for the anger that I saw directed at me, so I looked back at my bowl.

"Yes sir, the day before yesterday, because I wouldn't get him a glass of brandy."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Uncle Ben's clipped tones let me know how angry he truly was.

I could feel tears welling up. "Because I had already been in trouble, and I didn't want you to be angry with me. I just wanted to help Uncle Seamus."

Uncle Ben lifted my chin so I could see his face. "I'm not angry with you, and I wouldn't have been angry with you then, either." He put his arm around me. "I know you want to help Seamus. I'd like to help him, too, but my first responsibility is to protect you and your cousins. I can't do that if I have to worry about Seamus flying into a rage." He shook his head. "Annie, he could have killed you. He has to leave."

I pushed the empty bowl away from me. I knew what Uncle Ben was saying was true, but I wasn't sure how I felt about it. A part of me didn’t want to speak to Uncle Seamus again while another part didn't want him to leave. I nodded. "Yes, sir, I understand."

Uncle Ben rose, and held out his hand. "I'll help you to the sofa. You can stay there for a while."

I took his hand. "No chores?" He shook his head and led me toward the fireplace. As he sat me down, I held out the buttonhook. "Uncle Ben, could you do my shoes, please?"

He grinned as he knelt by my feet. "I haven't had to button a woman's shoes since just before Joe was born."

When he finished, he tucked the blanket around me, and stayed with me until I fell asleep.

When I awoke, Uncle Pat was sitting by my side. "Annie, sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

I wish people would stop asking me that question! "I'll be fine, Uncle Pat."

A cloud passed over his eyes. "I remember you telling me that once before, lass. Will you be fine this time?"

I sighed. "I don't know." And I truly didn't know. The last time I told Uncle Pat that I would be fine, the men that had hurt me weren't my kin, and I didn't love them.

Uncle Pat moved to sit beside me on the sofa. "He's sorry, Annie. It was the drink, not him."

But the drink hadn't tried to knock me into the next territory, and I said as much to Uncle Pat.

"Annie, I'm not telling you it was the drink to make excuses for him, only to explain." He sounded impatient, and I resented it.

How could he explain away the hurt I felt, not just on my face but deep inside? I had never felt so betrayed by someone that I loved. Uncles were supposed to protect nieces, not attack them. "I don't want to hear your explanation." My tone was rude and disrespectful, but I didn’t care.

Uncle Pat did. He sat straight and glared at me. "I understand you are hurt, but you still owe me respect, Anna." I glanced over his shoulder and saw Uncle Ben watching us. He nodded slowly.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." I wrapped the blanket closer around me and leaned away from Uncle Pat. He didn't move.

"Annie, I've told you a bit of what we went through in Ireland. We were always poor, but for years that didn't matter. Then the blight came. The English landlords still exported the food that their tenants grew, even as those tenants starved to death.

"Seamus was part of a group of men that decided to fight back. They were called the Ribbonmen. He was caught, as were his friends. Many of them were hanged for the crime of wanting to feed their families." The bitterness in Uncle's Pat's voice didn't surprise me for I had heard it before. "Seamus was transported; he was sent to spend ten years hard labor in Van Dieman's Land. I don't know what happened to him there, but you've seen the scars on his face. I can tell you, those aren't the only ones he carries. He escaped, and that's how he landed on the ship with John.

"He has never been a good one for the drink; it made him angry even as a young man. But now, it would seem the drink brings his nightmares to life, and he lashes out as you've seen. He told me that he had sworn off drinking, and John attested to that. But after he cuffed you, he went to town and had another run in with Wolf. Seamus sought his solace in a bottle." He paused to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

I had pulled my knees to my chest as Uncle Pat spoke, and I didn't move when he finished. He waited for me to speak, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think. Uncle Pat leaned toward me.

"Seamus would like to see you. Can he do that?"

I shook my head slowly. "No." My answer was so soft that Uncle Pat had to lean close to hear me. I may not have known what to think, but I did know that I was not ready to see Uncle Seamus.

A look of disappointment swept across his face. "It's only an apology he wants to be offering."

Uncle Ben was beside me in an instant. "Padraig, Annie said no." Uncle Pat would do well to heed Uncle Ben when he spoke in that tone.

Uncle Pat didn't even look at Uncle Ben. "Anna, he's my only brother, I can't abandon him."

I spoke before Uncle Ben could. "I didn't ask you to abandon him." My tone was flat.

Uncle Pat leaned toward me. "He is your mother's brother. Will you abandon him?"

"Padraig, Annie has decided. Now I think she needs her rest." Uncle Ben's anger flashed, and Uncle Pat stood up.

"Well, then. There's not more to say, is there?" He pushed past Uncle Ben and stormed out the door. I rested my head on my knees and tried to not cry.

"Annie, I'm sorry. If I had known he was going to upset you, I wouldn't have let him speak to you." He rested his hand on my shoulder.

I waved my hand. "I'll be all right."

My uncle's reply was interrupted by a noise in the yard. "That sounds like the boys back with the supplies." Uncle Ben headed toward the door. "I'll be right back."

Joe came in first. He sat by me and held out a little sack of candy. "Here."

"Thanks, Joe." I felt odd knowing that he was staring at my face, and I didn't know what else to say.

Joe glanced around to make sure we were still alone. "Pa and Uncle John were fighting, you know."

"What?"

"Pa was mad 'cuz Uncle John knew that Uncle Seamus could get mean, like he did yesterday."

"He wasn't mean, Joe, he was drunk. There's a difference." I chewed on my lip. "Are you sure they were fighting?"

Joe nodded solemnly. "Yup, they were hollerin' in the barn this morning."

"Joe!" Both Joe and I flinched when we heard Adam. "Joe, you shouldn't be telling Annie that. Pa won't like it." Adam nodded toward the door. "Pa's waiting for you to help with the horses."

Joe jumped up and hurried out the door. I turned to look at Adam.

"Is it true? They were fighting?" Adam wouldn't look at me, and I knew Joe was right. "Adam…"

He sat next to me. "Yes, they were arguing, but they worked it out. Don't say anything to Pa. He won't be happy that you know. " He reached into his pocket. "I brought you something."

It was another sack of candy. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged. "I've got to go help Pa now."

Hoss came in a little while later, also bringing in a sack of candy for me. He didn't say much; he just sat next to me. Somehow, his presence was comforting without words. We sat and watched the fire until everyone else came in for supper.

Everyone, that is, except Uncle Seamus and Uncle Pat. They ate alone in the bunkhouse. Supper was silent, and I couldn't bear the tension around the table. I asked to be excused, and I went to bed.

Uncle John came in a few minutes later and he sat on my bed next to me. "You're very quiet."

"Joe said you and Uncle Ben were arguing."

"Joe talks too much sometimes." He exhaled loudly and ran his fingers through his hair. "We did, but we've apologized to each other."

"You fought about me, about what happened, didn't you?"

"Ben thought I was wrong to bring Seamus here because I knew what could happen if he got drunk. But Seamus had been doing well – he'd had naught to drink in a long time, and I was watching. I couldn't deny him the chance to see you. You're all he talked about. He was so happy to know that you were well. It meant so much to him to know that the McLaughlin line would continue."

I lay awake that night, thinking about the gifts I had received from my uncles, not the material ones, but the gifts they gave through their stories. As I looked back on what Uncle John had said, I realized that I had always considered myself a Cartwright, and yet I was as much a McLaughlin as a Cartwright. My father had told me stories about my mother, but it wasn't until that Christmas that I really knew who the McLaughlins were. Thanks to Uncle Seamus, and to Uncle Pat, I knew that I would have liked Mama, not just as a mother, but also as a person.

I awoke the next morning to sounds outside my door. I dressed quickly but by the time I left my room, the only other person in the house was Adam. I hurried over to the front window and observed the activity in the yard. My uncles were loading the last sack onto their packhorse while Joe and Hoss were leading the saddle horses from the barn. Adam stood beside me, his arm wrapped over my shoulder, lending what comfort he could. I saw Uncle Seamus reach over to take the reins from Hoss; I could tell that Hoss wouldn't speak to my uncle, and that saddened me. In a flash, I knew I couldn't let Uncle Seamus leave without speaking to him myself.

I moved from Adam's side and headed toward the door. His voice stopped me.

"You want to see him?" I couldn't tell from his tone what he thought. I nodded. "I'll go ask him to come in, then. Pa doesn’t want you outside."

Adam hurried past me and headed out the door. Now that I had made the decision to speak to Uncle Seamus, I wasn't sure what I would say. I sat on the sofa and stared into the flames, hoping that some inspiration would spring to mind.

The door opened, but I didn't turn. "Annie?" It was Uncle Ben. I should have known that he wouldn't let me see Uncle Seamus alone. I turned to look at him.

"I can't let him leave like this, Uncle Ben."

Uncle Ben nodded and stepped into the house. "He'll be here in a minute. I'm going to stay." His tone brooked no argument.

I smiled slightly. "I expected that." I watched him settle into the chair next to the sofa. "Thank you."

"For letting you see him?"

I shrugged. "Yes, and for staying with me."

My uncle's response was cut short by the sound of the door opening. I stared back into the flames, panicking because I didn't know what to say. Uncle Seamus knelt in front of me. He reached out and gently touched my bruise with his fingertips. I had to force myself to not flinch, and I think he knew that.

"Oh, Annie," he moaned. "Annie, mo chroi, I never meant to hurt you." He buried his face in my skirts, and I could hear him weep.

I always found it unnerving to see a man cry. The few times my father wept in front of me were very upsetting, and I don't know that I ever saw Uncle Ben cry. "Uncle Seamus? Please don't." But he lifted his head to look at me again.

I gathered a corner of my skirt and as I wiped the tears from his face I noticed his right eye was bruised. I touched it gently.

He smiled weakly. "I'd forgotten that Paddy has a good right hook."

I remembered the noise last night, right after Uncle Seamus came through the door. The idea that my mother's brothers would fight over me was distressing. And yet, my father's brothers had done that very thing, even if they had not resorted to fists.

Uncle Seamus shook his head. "Paddy was right, I should never have taken that drink." He took my hand. "Annie, mo chroi, will you forgive me?"

I glanced at Uncle Ben and thought about how he always said that there was nothing we could do that he could not forgive, if we were truly sorry. I thought of my mother, and of the gift of family that Uncle Seamus had given me.

"With all my heart, I forgive you, Uncle Seamus." I leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. His arms wrapped around me, and he hugged me tight.

I don't know how long we remained like that, but finally he stood. "Now I can leave with a lighter heart."

Now that I had forgiven him, I wanted him to stay, to return his gift of family. I grabbed his hand. "Do you truly have to leave?" Uncle Ben frowned and looked as though he would speak, but before he could, Uncle Seamus shook his head.

"Yes, a stor mo chroi." He and Uncle Ben exchanged a look. "I cannot stay. Not now."

Uncle Seamus reached out and cupped his hand behind my neck. "Annie, mo chroi, you are your mother's daughter, always wanting to save the strays." I started to speak but he put his fingertips on my lips. "But this stray needs to save himself, first. I have demons in me, Annie, demons I can't explain. Unless I lose them, I might hurt you again, and I would not do that for all the world." He knelt at my feet. "But I'll make you this solemn vow. When I have won my fight, I'll come back to you. Will you wait for me, a stor mo chroi?"

I nodded. "I'll be here, Uncle Seamus."

He rose, and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Ta gra agam ort."

For some reason, I knew that Irish expression. Perhaps it was a lost memory from my mother, or perhaps my father had told me. "I love you, too, Uncle Seamus."

He stepped away and held his hand out to my Uncle Ben, who gripped it. "Thank you, Benjamin. I know you'll take care of our girl."

"I will. You take care of yourself, Seamus."

As my uncle reached the door, I called out. "Uncle Seamus?"

He looked back at me. "Yes?"

"Mo chroi, what does that mean?"

He smiled as he opened the door. "'My heart'. A stor mo chroi is 'the darling of my heart.'" He closed the door and was gone.

How many prayers for him had these beads heard, first from her grandmother, then from herself? She lifted the beads, kissed the cross lightly and began the prayers for his immortal soul.

The young woman was startled from her devotions by the sound of a door opening. She smiled wanly at the man walking toward her. "Did I wake you?"

The man smiled. "Maybe. Or maybe I just couldn't sleep either." He knelt by the chair. "You need to get your rest. You gave the doctor quite a scare this afternoon."

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, he's just a nervous hen!" She scowled at the man. "And you're just as bad. You didn't have to spend the night, I would have been fine."

"And have your husband after me? No, thank you!" The man grinned. "I liked it better when he was afraid of me. Besides, I promised your boys I'd take them fishing tomorrow. And my house is lonely with my boys gone."

She sighed as she held out the letter. "Your boys. My boys. He was someone's boy, once." The woman moved to the sofa to sit next to her uncle. "I suggested if this baby is a boy that we name him Seamus, but Mitch will not permit it. He wanted to kill Uncle Seamus that day he found out."

"I remember. It took Adam and Hoss both to hold him back from riding after your uncles."

"Mitch never did forgive him. I think perhaps it's easier to forgive a hurt to yourself than it is to forgive a hurt to one you love." She rested her head on her uncle's shoulder. "I waited and waited for him to return, and when he didn't, I decided he didn't really love me. Then, when the twins were born, I realized that it was because he loved me that he wouldn't come back. I guess I understood that if you truly love someone, that you will do everything possible to keep that person from being hurt, even if it means staying away." She shrugged. "I don't know, it makes sense when I'm thinking it, but when I say it out loud, it sounds foolish."

He nodded. He knew what she was trying to say. He always did.

They sat for a while in silence until he stirred. "Speaking of those boys of yours, they're going to get up early and demand that I take them fishing."

"They'd best not demand anything while I can hear them. They are getting sassy with their father away."

He grinned. "I wonder where they get it from."

She laughed. "I suppose. Young Mitch made the mistake of talking back to his grandmother the other day. He didn't know that his grandfather was standing behind him." She smiled. "He won't make that mistake again."

The man stood and helped her to her feet. "Yes, well, they'll find that Grandpa Ben knows what to do with sassy children" He smiled. "You and Mitch are fine parents. Don't worry."

She smiled slightly as she tucked the letter into her Bible. "And have you ever stopped worrying?'"

He shook his head. "I'll stop worrying when I stop breathing. C'mon. Let's get you back to bed."

Annie placed the Bible on the mantle. "Good-bye, Uncle Seamus. Ar dheis De go raibh a anam." May your soul be on God's right side.