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Post by Seamus Doherty on Jan 24, 2008 1:25:20 GMT -5
((This occurs the day before the events of "Work for the Money" and any other chronologically related threads, I just decided.))
After lunch: Seamus' least favorite time of day. The sun might not be at its peak anymore, but it was still beaming down with perverse glee as the ranch hands sluggishly dragged themselves back to work.
"I'll get this," Seamus offered, immediately starting to clean up the remains of the meal.
A guy working on the last of his cigarette laughed and squinted up at the sun as if checking the time. "Right on schedule." Whoever cleaned up got out of work for a little bit longer. Of course, most of the older men didn't want to be bothered with the trek up to the house, so they were content to let the kid go ahead.
The walk to the house wasn't so bad. This group was currently working on the shed with the collapsed roof, so they weren't far. Seamus lugged the sack of used pans and things, taking his time, listening to the nasally hum of the grasshoppers and watching dust puff up around his boots with every step. When the shade of the house fell over him he rubbed his eyes with relief and combed his hair out of his face, then went inside.
He knew his way around well enough that he didn't wait for his eyes to adjust before heading to the kitchen to deposit his load. But he lingered a little, taking off his cap and shaking out his hair, listening with the thin hope of hearing someone in the house that might possibly want him to do something that wasn't slaving under the sun outside.
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Post by Sara Caid on Jan 24, 2008 1:39:37 GMT -5
Sara Caid was always available to give a ranchhand a bit of extra work, especially if it helped her out around the little ranch house. Carleigh Anne was awake, and she appreciated the glaring sun outside about as much as Seamus did, and the toddler whooped and hollared all about it.
The young woman hadn't been in the house when Seamus had entered. Instead, she had been at the well attempting to draw water for the horses, but her child simply would not stop her insistent screaming no matter what Sara did. She was beginning to worry that the child would scream herself sick, if she wasn't already, so she bid her brother to water the horses while she took Carleigh Anne back up to the house for a bit of water and a sit in the shade. Her brow furrowed as the balanced the one and a half year old on her hip and carried her, screaming all the way to the front door.
Wincing as she went about opening the front door and sidling inside, she was immediately aware that someone else was about. For a moment, she thought it was one of the new hands that she was a bit suspicious over, but her eyes adjusted and she found it to be Seamus - not quite new, but not quite old. He was trustworthy enough. She shot him an apologetic look before attempting to shush the child, "Don' know what's got inta her. Sorry, Seamus. 'Pose ya were after a bida quiet, huh?" Mumbling a bit more to herself, she move to sit in a chair as she pushed a stray curl out her face.
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Jan 24, 2008 2:06:20 GMT -5
Sara and Carleigh's approach was well-heralded, but Seamus didn't bother to try to look busy. The ranch owner seemed a little too preoccupied to care at the moment. He slid his cap back on and shrugged, leaning against the kitchen table. "Yeh grow up wit' a family like mine, a bit o' screamin' won't hurt yeh none." He shifted down the table a ways so that he could look Carleigh Anne in the eye, even if she wasn't bothering to look back. "Quite a pair o' lungs on yeh, there," he said to the girl with a grin that he then turned to Sara. "Please say yeh need somet'in' so I don't have to go outside."
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Post by Sara Caid on Jan 24, 2008 2:14:35 GMT -5
Sara chuckled at the man's statements. That was one of the reasons she liked having Seamus around, he knew how to make her laugh, and that was definitely an accomplishment with a child screaming in your ear and the heat so unbearable she wished she could waltz around completely naked. Now, there was a thought. Fixing him with a rueful smile, she hesitated before nodding, "Tell ya what, Seamus, if y'can get'er to quiet down fer a nap, ya c'n help me wash up'n'fix that table." She indicated with a toss of her head a table in the corner that had one leg propped up on a bible.
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Jan 24, 2008 4:12:05 GMT -5
"Done. Wish me luck," he said cheerfully, lifting the child from Sara's lap and tucking her against his side. He started to meander around the room at a crawling pace, swaying as he went, and it was like having one of his nephews in his arms again. He exhaled in a cross between a sigh and a laugh.
"All right, Miss Carleigh Anne," he began, casual and conversational. Seamus had never liked using baby talk. "I know yeh want a nap. Everybody likes a good nap. If I could 'ave one I would." He lightly bounced her up and down, watching her with a pondering expression, humming under his breath. The humming strengthened to singing after a few lines. His voice was fairly good, but the melody of the song didn't demand much. "... an' I never will play the wild rover no more -- and it's no, nay, never... no nay never, no moooore..." Whenever he sang "The Wild Rover" Seamus couldn't help but find it amusing that he, the man who couldn't stay in one place for more than a few months, was singing about going back home to settle down. Even if it was settling down and heading straight to the alehouse. "... will I play the wild rover, no never, no more."
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Post by Sara Caid on Jan 24, 2008 16:35:48 GMT -5
She watched as the ranch hand took her child and began his part of the bargain, standing once her arms were free and approaching the dishes that had been brought up from lunch. There was a bucket to one side full of fresh well water that Lukas had brought up for Sara while she'd still been pumping into other buckets. Settling down on a stool beside it, she grabbed a rag from the floor and started cleaning. No soap, as you couldn't always get the lye out of the cracks and scratches in the metal dishware so it left a disgusting after taste. Or at least, Sara thought so.
Watching as Carleigh Anne did, indeed, start to settle down for a nap. Sara waited until the toddler was fluttering off into dream world with her head on Seamus' shoulder before Sara nodded him silently towards the bedroom she shared with the infant. The door was open, so she had no fear of him snooping around, though she would have it shut once the baby was inside. She preferred to talk without having to lower her voice, but then again Carleigh Anne could sleep through a damned tornado.
She didn't speak until Seamus returned, "Smart job, Seamus. Ya do me proud. Betwixt dishes an' puttin' babies t'sleep, I'll have ya a good father in no time. Jus' gotta get ya yer own set of kids, next." She was obviously joking, which she hoped Seamus could tell.
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Jan 24, 2008 18:54:59 GMT -5
Seamus nodded back at Sara, still humming, and made his way into the bedroom to put Carleigh Anne down. When he bent to lower her into the bed she squirmed a bit, but he settled her in and patted her head, and she didn't wake up. His boots made surprisingly little noise as he crossed the room and closed the door.
Sara's joking around was not lost on him. He gave a mock bow grinning roguishly. "I live to please. But yeh must be havin' someone in mind, to be sure. Can't have a set of kids all by meself."
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Post by Sara Caid on Jan 25, 2008 1:43:24 GMT -5
She laughed at that, kicking at the stool next to her to imply that he might sit down as she reached for another clean rag with which he could try. She continued at her work as she looked up at him, still chuckling, "Someone in mind? Hell, I figured I'd give ya Carleigh Anne. Would give me a bit of a break."
Reaching her hands into the lukewarm bucket of water, she scrubbed at another plate before arching a brow at him, "Have ya got someone in mind fer yerself?" But, never one to sound like a gossip, she was soon singing another tune, "Or better yet, someone in mind fer me?"
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Jan 25, 2008 2:32:45 GMT -5
He obliged and sat on the stool, slouching a little, with his legs out straight so that his feet were on the ground. He got to work on drying what she'd washed already. "Oh yeh wouldn't want me as a son-in-law -- I'm not'in' but trouble. I'd end up an old grandda messing about here, an' yeh'd be overrun by t' new world Ó Dochartaigh clan." When he pictured having a family of his own it always ended up looking just like the one he'd left, except the blame for starting it was all on him. He mulled over this horrific vision while he dried.
The question caught him by surprise at first, because it did indeed sound like gossip, and Seamus was not accustomed to being the subject of gossip. A tiny crease of vulnerability flashed onto his forehead for a fraction of a second. Then she continued and he smirked, back to nonchalant.
"There's no' a girl in this town that's good enough for the likes o' me," he said airily, then conceded, "'cept Miss Carleigh Anne and yourself. An' there's no' a man good enough for the likes o' youse either, but if I see one I'll let yeh know."
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Post by Sara Caid on Feb 3, 2008 2:50:05 GMT -5
She felt a bite of bitterness at the man's words. Sara knew well enough that there was plenty a man good enough for her, just that she weren't no where near good enough for them. She was used goods. A widow was no worth to strapping young men her age. Perhaps if she were lucky, some rich old grandpa would scoop her up and give Carleigh Anne a good schooling. That's what she kept telling herself, that she had no hopes of being anything but a widow the rest of her life. Used goods.
Definitely felt better to give a meaning to things.
She hesitated all the while, as these thoughts ran through her head. Her dishwashing slowing visibly as her mind wandered into pessimism. It was only a matter of seconds, when the sound of boots on the front step drew her attention. No doubt it was her brother. Tossing Seamus a smile, she handed him a plate and patted his knee absently, "Ya do jus' that, Seamus. But don't go tellin' Lukas a damned thing. H'll chase 'em off."
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Post by Luke Lassetter on Feb 3, 2008 2:56:41 GMT -5
The sound of boots on the step outside was most assuredly Lukas Lassetter. The man beat out his clothes outside, trying to get most the dust out so he didn't drag it inside. He knew how Sara hated it, and he definitely didn't want to hear her nagging. It was too hot for nagging and he far too tired.
At least her brat wasn't wailing any longer. Don't get him wrong, he loved his niece like all else, but he was in a foul mood and feeling fouler. He didn't need her caterwauling to make things worse.
Stomping his boots as he entered the little wooden house, he lifted his hat to hang on a hook by the door when he noticed Seamus sitting with his sister. With her hand just leaving the boy's knee and she saying something about not telling 'Lukas'. Shooting a cheekily suspicious glance at Seamus (Lord knew he could care less, but he liked getting a laugh neverheless), he tossed his hat on the peg and snorted at Sara, "Keep what from me? How t'get yer brat to quiet down?" He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he moved to pour a glass of water from the pitcher.
"How's the mendin', Seamus?"
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Feb 3, 2008 4:03:47 GMT -5
In the quiet he smirked slightly to himself, or at himself, and didn't mind that Sara was slowing down; he just matched her pace. If he noticed anything out of sorts with her, he didn't show it.
Then Lukas came in. Ahh, Lukas. What a joker. Seamus replied to his suspicion with a lazy, noncommittal half-smile. Let the man think whatever he wanted to. If it bothered Sara, she'd take care of it herself, he had no doubt.
Mending, ha ha. "Still prickin' me fingers. I'll 'ave to come ask yeh how it's done." He sat up straighter on the stool and hooked his heels over one of the rungs. What a stellar reputation he had. It was a good thing he didn't take it seriously.
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Post by Sara Caid on Feb 3, 2008 16:44:04 GMT -5
damned right Sara'd do something about it. She'd not have her brother making a fool of her, so she met his suspscious glance with a glare of her own before shooting Seamus one as well. She figured he was well enough in on it as well, whatever was going on. Washing the last plate down, she passed it on to Seamus before standing to her feet and wiping her hands on her apron to dry them completely.
Tossing the wet rag on the table, she turned to pick up the previously dried tin to put away. "Lukas ain't the man t'be askin', Seamus. Couldn' help ya more than a rattler." She smirked as she set aside the tin and reached a hand back to take the last plate from Seamus kindly so he didn't have to get up if he rathered not.
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Post by Luke Lassetter on Feb 3, 2008 16:51:46 GMT -5
Lukas arched his brow at his sister as he downed the water and poured another cup full. Sweat was heavy on his brow, weighed down by a thick layer of dust so that he generally looked grimey. He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, but it did little more than put a dent in the dirt there. Lord, he needed a good bath 'bout now, but there was no point with more work to be done.
When Seamus' spoke, he had a half-smile forming on his lips that was abruptly halted by his sister's interjection. Snorting, he gave her a gentle shove in the shoulder (to which she merely giggled) before he turned to Seamus, "I'd be much obliged, Seamus. The boys ain't given ya trouble, are they?" Granted, he supposed that one Yank hand was getting more than any of the lads could ever dump on a foreigner.
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Post by Seamus Doherty on Feb 3, 2008 17:07:44 GMT -5
Seamus handed the last plate over to Sara and shook his hair out of his face to watch the two of them. This place was much more agreeable to him than his home had been, though he missed the Emerald Isle sorely on these long stretches of hot, dry days.
He shook his head in reply to Lukas. "Nah, not'in' wort' mentioning." He actually kind of liked being the one that they all sent to fetch things for them. It meant he could slack off more and spend time in town.
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