Seamus
Book Nineteen of the Farraday Country Series
No matter how long Seamus O’Farredeigh stared at the screen, the numbers weren’t going to change. Since the day his son had been born, he’d carefully socked away money. Some for the expected college fund, more for the buy a real home for his family fund. Neither was looking stellar at the moment. He hadn’t wanted to, but when Jane had gotten sick, Seamus had been left with little choice but to borrow from the two funds. In the end, they’d lost Jane to stage four cancer and the savings had gotten screwed over like everything else in their lives two years ago.
“Ever heard a watched pot never boils?” Thomas dropped his jacket on the back of a nearby chair. When life up north got crazy, he’d visit either Seamus or Vance.
“Something has to change.” If he kept going like he was, Seamus would never be able to have a place of his own.
“Something?” His brother sighed and pulled a chair closer to the desk where Seamus sat. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from the Farraday ranch. Want to tell me what’s going on in that squirrelly head of yours?”
“They’ve offered me a job.” Seamus lifted his gaze to meet his brother’s.
Thomas’ eyes narrowed in confusion. “They who?”
“Connor. Uncle Sean. Both, either, whatever.”
Now his brother’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Really?”
“I know ranching.”
“That you do.” Thomas leaned back with a sigh.
Their father’s dream had always been to own a ranch. The same dream his dad and grandfather who had come to the United States to fulfill. The dream the original Seamus had supposedly died for. Supposedly being the key word at the moment.
The best Seamus’ grandfather Liam had managed as a railroad engineer was to raise two sons in a small home in Colorado cattle country. His father Aiden had at least gotten into the cattle business. He’d raised his three sons in the foreman’s house of one of the biggest spreads in the state. Seamus had stepped into his dad’s boots years ago. Only he wasn’t a dime closer to owning his own spread.
“Have you mentioned this to Vance?”
Seamus shook his head. He hadn’t actually spoken the words aloud to anyone, not even his brother who was two years closer to his age than Thomas.
“How about our cousins? The ones we’ve always known about?”
Again, he shook his head. His uncle Liam had been much more prolific than Seamus’ dad. Uncle Liam had five kids where Seamus’ dad had only had the three boys. Together, seven boys and one lone girl. Thoughts of Yvonne made Seamus smile. Poor kid never got a moment’s peace with what might as well have been seven older male siblings.
“I wish you’d say something.” Thomas leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his fingers linked, his hands dangling in front of him. “You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“I keep thinking what all our lives might have been like if Bridget Nixon O’Farredeigh’s mother hadn’t lied to her and the first Seamus.”
“Yeah,” he leaned back again, “I wonder the same thing.”
“We don’t have much here.”
Thomas’ brows shot up high again.
“I mean, we definitely have you and Vance and a slew of cousins, but how often do we see each other?”
“I can’t help it, being a detective is not the same as a beat cop. I can’t tell the bad guys, or the victims, that they’re on their own after five o’clock.”
“I get it.” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I just thought someone would have gotten married by now so my son would have cousins to play with the way we all did.”
“Partners in crime,” Thomas smiled, his mind no doubt turning back to their own childhood filled with fun and games and shenanigans.
“Aunt Eileen said we can stay with them at the ranch. The salary is higher than what I’m getting now. His son would have cousins to play with and he would love Connor’s horses. Connor had one of the best horse training operations in the country.” He spun his seat away from the computer and leveled his gaze with his brother. “I can’t think of a reason to say no.”
“I have to admit, if that small country town had room for more police, I’d be right there with you.”
“You would?” He hadn’t expected that response.
“We only spent a long weekend but it seemed nice enough. And honestly, there’s too many dang people moving out here. Every time I turn around there are new developments going up, and prices are climbing even faster. Traffic is starting to remind me of Los Angeles, so, I can’t blame you.”
Before he could respond, his son bolted through the door. “Look Dad.”
“Did I ever have that kind of energy?”
“Yes.” Thomas chuckled. “Mom swore if she could only bottle it none of us would have to work another day of our lives.”
“Dad.” His son waved his arm and almost plowed into him before coming to a screeching halt. “Mr. Jack says I can keep it. But, I have to hang it pointing up or my luck will run out.”
The rusty old horseshoe looked like any other that occasionally turned up in the pastures, but no one seemed to appreciate it as much as his son. Ruffling the top of his head, Seamus smiled down at his precious boy. “We’ll have to find a special spot for it.”
“Mr. Jack says sometimes people paint them to make them prettier.” The kid frowned at it. “Why would they do that? It looks pretty to me just the way it is.”
Seamus looked to his brother who merely smiled and shrugged. “Well, your grandma used to say, that’s why God designed the rainbow, so everyone could pick their favorite color.”
“Huh?” the kid’s nose wrinkled.
“Never mind.” He ruffled his son’s dark hair again. “Go put it away and wash your hands for dinner.”
Without a word, and with a grin as wide as the room, the kid turned and bolted.
“Still want to move?” Thomas asked.
Slowly, Seamus turned to face his brother. Part of why he’d waited so long to tell anyone was because he was afraid they’d try to talk him out of it. Which he guessed, deep down, meant he already had his answer. Besides, horse shoe or not, he was ready for his luck to change. “Yeah, looks like we’re moving to Texas.”
* * * *
“Ever heard a watched pot never boils?” Thomas dropped his jacket on the back of a nearby chair. When life up north got crazy, he’d visit either Seamus or Vance.
“Something has to change.” If he kept going like he was, Seamus would never be able to have a place of his own.
“Something?” His brother sighed and pulled a chair closer to the desk where Seamus sat. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from the Farraday ranch. Want to tell me what’s going on in that squirrelly head of yours?”
“They’ve offered me a job.” Seamus lifted his gaze to meet his brother’s.
Thomas’ eyes narrowed in confusion. “They who?”
“Connor. Uncle Sean. Both, either, whatever.”
Now his brother’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Really?”
“I know ranching.”
“That you do.” Thomas leaned back with a sigh.
Their father’s dream had always been to own a ranch. The same dream his dad and grandfather who had come to the United States to fulfill. The dream the original Seamus had supposedly died for. Supposedly being the key word at the moment.
The best Seamus’ grandfather Liam had managed as a railroad engineer was to raise two sons in a small home in Colorado cattle country. His father Aiden had at least gotten into the cattle business. He’d raised his three sons in the foreman’s house of one of the biggest spreads in the state. Seamus had stepped into his dad’s boots years ago. Only he wasn’t a dime closer to owning his own spread.
“Have you mentioned this to Vance?”
Seamus shook his head. He hadn’t actually spoken the words aloud to anyone, not even his brother who was two years closer to his age than Thomas.
“How about our cousins? The ones we’ve always known about?”
Again, he shook his head. His uncle Liam had been much more prolific than Seamus’ dad. Uncle Liam had five kids where Seamus’ dad had only had the three boys. Together, seven boys and one lone girl. Thoughts of Yvonne made Seamus smile. Poor kid never got a moment’s peace with what might as well have been seven older male siblings.
“I wish you’d say something.” Thomas leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his fingers linked, his hands dangling in front of him. “You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“I keep thinking what all our lives might have been like if Bridget Nixon O’Farredeigh’s mother hadn’t lied to her and the first Seamus.”
“Yeah,” he leaned back again, “I wonder the same thing.”
“We don’t have much here.”
Thomas’ brows shot up high again.
“I mean, we definitely have you and Vance and a slew of cousins, but how often do we see each other?”
“I can’t help it, being a detective is not the same as a beat cop. I can’t tell the bad guys, or the victims, that they’re on their own after five o’clock.”
“I get it.” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I just thought someone would have gotten married by now so my son would have cousins to play with the way we all did.”
“Partners in crime,” Thomas smiled, his mind no doubt turning back to their own childhood filled with fun and games and shenanigans.
“Aunt Eileen said we can stay with them at the ranch. The salary is higher than what I’m getting now. His son would have cousins to play with and he would love Connor’s horses. Connor had one of the best horse training operations in the country.” He spun his seat away from the computer and leveled his gaze with his brother. “I can’t think of a reason to say no.”
“I have to admit, if that small country town had room for more police, I’d be right there with you.”
“You would?” He hadn’t expected that response.
“We only spent a long weekend but it seemed nice enough. And honestly, there’s too many dang people moving out here. Every time I turn around there are new developments going up, and prices are climbing even faster. Traffic is starting to remind me of Los Angeles, so, I can’t blame you.”
Before he could respond, his son bolted through the door. “Look Dad.”
“Did I ever have that kind of energy?”
“Yes.” Thomas chuckled. “Mom swore if she could only bottle it none of us would have to work another day of our lives.”
“Dad.” His son waved his arm and almost plowed into him before coming to a screeching halt. “Mr. Jack says I can keep it. But, I have to hang it pointing up or my luck will run out.”
The rusty old horseshoe looked like any other that occasionally turned up in the pastures, but no one seemed to appreciate it as much as his son. Ruffling the top of his head, Seamus smiled down at his precious boy. “We’ll have to find a special spot for it.”
“Mr. Jack says sometimes people paint them to make them prettier.” The kid frowned at it. “Why would they do that? It looks pretty to me just the way it is.”
Seamus looked to his brother who merely smiled and shrugged. “Well, your grandma used to say, that’s why God designed the rainbow, so everyone could pick their favorite color.”
“Huh?” the kid’s nose wrinkled.
“Never mind.” He ruffled his son’s dark hair again. “Go put it away and wash your hands for dinner.”
Without a word, and with a grin as wide as the room, the kid turned and bolted.
“Still want to move?” Thomas asked.
Slowly, Seamus turned to face his brother. Part of why he’d waited so long to tell anyone was because he was afraid they’d try to talk him out of it. Which he guessed, deep down, meant he already had his answer. Besides, horse shoe or not, he was ready for his luck to change. “Yeah, looks like we’re moving to Texas.”
* * * *
E-Books
|
|
|
|
|
