News from afar

Another few weeks went by. Winter had finally arrived in the Rockies, along with news about Holly. Unfortunately, it wasn't what Oliver had expected and hoped for as it wouldn't liberate him but instead would plunge him into a deeper useless and dormant marriage. After sharing the latest news with his dad, he asked him for his opinion. To his surprise, Joe suggested Oliver ask Shane for help. Joe couldn't think of anyone better to take on such a task. Shane had relevant DC connections to whom she could reach out. After much deliberation, Oliver decided to take the risk and ask Shane for help as he realised he had nothing to lose and more importantly, no other option.

Oliver met Shane in her office. She was surrounded by piles of paper and cut-out notes and articles everywhere. It looked messy but there was a method to her chaotic work space. He realised she was just very busy. His admiration for her increased tenfold.

She was busy running a noisy, strange looking machine mounted on a sewing table. Clearly it was not a sewing machine.

"Miss McInerney, what's this? What's it called?" Oliver asked, pointing at the machine.

"Oh, this is a typewriter, Mr O'Toole. It's a recent invention which speeds up the writing process." She then proceeded to show him how it worked. Within a few seconds, she pulled a piece of paper from the machine, which now included a whole sentence written on it.

"See?" She smiled and showed it to him. "No need to mend a quill pen or look for an ink bottle." She said proud of her handiwork. He smiled. This woman never ceased to amaze him.

He sat in a chair opposite her desk and cleared his throat. "How can I help you, Mr. O'Toole?" He was clearly nervous, gazing around the office as if looking to settle on any topic other than the one at hand. Finding none, he made up his mind and took the plunge.

"Well, about 6 months ago I engaged the Pinkerton agency to locate someone for me." He stopped, looking at Shane while nervously wringing his hands. Shane got up from her desk, walked around it and sat in the chair next to him. She gently touched his shoulder, smiled and encouraged him to go on. He continued.

"Well, they followed the person's footsteps as far as New York City. Apparently, she had been travelling cross country with a circus. They met with members... errr... performers of the circus who were able to confirm that she had caught a boat to Europe, but then her trail went cold and they couldn't go on any further. He looked dejected.

"What can I do to help you, Oliver?" Shane knew exactly what person he was talking about. If she could help him find her, and end the limbo he was living in, she most certainly would do what she could.

"I was wondering if you, with your big newspaper connections… I mean… would you… do you have any liaisons with any international correspondent placed in Europe working for the Washington Post, by any chance?

Shane felt the blood drain from her face. Oliver noticed it.

"Are you alright Miss McInerney? You seem very pale all of a sudden."

"Ahhh… yes… thank you, Mr O'Toole." Shane got up and went back to the chair behind her desk. She couldn't believe that, of all people, Oliver would ask her to contact… Steve! On his behalf!

Could she do it? She looked at a baffled Oliver who was looking at her intently. The realisation hit her like a ton of bricks. If she wanted a future with this man, and God only knew how much she did, she'd have to reach out to Steve and her past, letting him back into her life. She could only do it because it would, perhaps, free Oliver. Asking Steve for help was something she swore she'd never do, and she had told him so.

"Yes, Oliver, I do. I know one person in particular who would be able to help us… I mean… help you find the person you need." Grabbing a pen and paper, she passed it to him and asked him to write down all the details he could remember about her. He did as she asked. After a few minutes, he passed it back to her.

It read: 'Holly Margaret O'Toole, 27 years old. 5'8" tall, around 130 pounds. Red hair. Light brown eyes. Attractive.'

Shane's eyes lingered on the last word. ATTRACTIVE! She never thought of that word as offensive before. However, as she read it on the paper, she thought it was the most hateful word she could possibly think of now. That adjective was now forever ruined for her!

She grabbed another piece of paper and wrote a letter. As she finished, she put it in an envelope, together with Oliver's notes. She addressed it, sealed it with her wax seal and handed it to him to mail.

"There!" She said. "I will pray this is quickly resolved to your satisfaction, Oliver."

"Thank you, Miss McInerney." As he reached out to grab the envelope, their fingers brushed against each other's. Neither of them pulled away. Their eyes connected and held for a few seconds. The depth of their mutual gazes said everything that words could not.

###

Oliver had been spending a lot of time at Joe's cabin. They had an enormous amount of history to catch up on. They talked openly about everything, from Holly to hunting... but there was one topic that seemed to be their favourite: Shane!

Thanksgiving was just around the corner, so Joe asked Oliver to bring Shane to spend the day with them. As winter settled in, there would be fewer chances for them to see each other.

Shane was delighted. She woke up early and prepared a feast to take with them. Joe would provide the roast turkey and Oliver would bring the wine. The day dawned with menacing clouds and a cold wind. Oliver hitched Meshach to his wagon and loaded it with blankets and furs to make sure Miss McInerney would be comfortable. As he stopped in front of her house and ran up to knock on her door, she came bouncing down the stairs with her arms full of baskets. She opened the door and he immediately grabbed the baskets from her and placed them in his wagon. She was so beautiful with her cheeks rosy from working in her hot kitchen, she took his breath away.

"Good morning, Oliver. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Good morning, Miss McInerney. Same to you". He loved how she called him by his first name. It sounded wonderful coming from her beautiful lips. He never loved his name more than when she said it.

He looked to the sky and knew they had to hurry. "The clouds are gathering but hopefully there won't be a blizzard. Even if there is one, it shouldn't last very long. We should be ok." Once all the food was loaded, he helped her climb into the wagon and they set off. It was indeed a bone chilling day with a freezing wind. Oliver's furs were absolutely perfect for keeping her warm and he was a good driver.

In less than 2 hours they arrived at Joe's cabin. The smells filling his little cabin were to die for. The turkey was almost done. All three got busy organising the rest of the meal. Shane finished baking the bread so they would eat it still hot and Oliver mashed the potatoes. Joe set the little table with three stools around it. It was even more special because of the simplicity of the meal and love surrounding this beautiful day. Shane's heart was bursting. They had a most glorious lunch with their hearts full of gratitude on this day of Thanksgiving. Indeed God was restoring the time they lost. The love was never gone between father and son. Instead it was just put on hold for a time. Thankfully it was now back with a vengeance.

As the day wore on, the blizzard hit! The winds picked up speed and Joe informed them they wouldn't be going anywhere until the weather improved. They stoked the fire and made themselves comfortable for the afternoon. The blizzard continued to rage and worsen. It looked like they would have to shelter there for the night.

Joe went outside, using the rope he tied between the house and the barn to make sure the horses were fed, watered and comfortable for the night. Despite the gravity of the situation, neither Oliver nor Shane seemed too upset by the prospect of sharing a tiny little cabin for the night. It was a one room cabin with Joe's bed in the far corner. As Joe came back in, he announced the horses were all set, so they settled in for the night.

Joe and Oliver would sleep on the floor and Shane would take the bed. There was no arguing with Joe. He had spoken!

They spent the evening eating leftover turkey and munching on cakes and cookies Shane had brought. Joe produced a checkerboard and some dominoes to pass the time. The evening passed quickly with laughter and much wine, which Joe enjoyed tremendously. Halfway through the evening, he said he would just rest his eyes lying by the fire. Before long, Oliver and Shane could hear his soft snoring.

They were so cosy in the warm cabin. They could hear the wind howling and whipping against the trees. However, the building was a good sturdy structure, there was no danger.

Shane got up to make some coffee. As she turned from the stove, she bumped right into Oliver who had followed her over to the kitchen. He didn't move or step away.

"Oliver?" She whispered, looking into his intense blue eyes. He grabbed her face in both his hands and whispered back. "Miss McInerney!"

He dropped his gaze from her eyes to her lips. She licked her lips.

"I need to tell you something." He said, not moving his hands away from her face or his eyes from her eyes.

"Yes?" She said softly, breathlessly, closing her eyes and relishing his touch on her skin. She moved closer to him. Their bodies were almost touching, mere inches apart. He lowered his mouth to almost touching her lips, whispering softly. "I'd like you to know, I… I value your… your friendship… more than anything else in the world."

Friendship? She thought. His words didn't match up with what his eyes were saying. So, she decided to ignore his words, closed the gap between them and melted into his arms. She couldn't help it. She hugged him around his neck and he encircled her waist with his arms. She kissed his cheek and he kissed her ear, nestling his face in her neck, making her shiver.

He whispered. "Miss McInerney… could you… would you wait for someone who is not free to become free?"

"Yes, Oliver, I would… for as long as it took. I wouldn't go anywhere."

After a few minutes, they hesitantly let go of each other before they completely lost control of what was quickly becoming a precarious situation. Their chaperone was sound asleep on the floor. They were both in each other's arms, wanting & longing for more. They slowly stepped away from each other and went back to take seats at the table. They started talking about their childhood years until it was time to retire to bed. They looked at each other once again with longing in their eyes. The sheer temptation to throw caution to the wind and give themselves to each other was immense. However, Oliver had travelled that road before. He knew that line of action only brought disaster to ones' life. He wasn't going down that road again, especially with Miss McInerney. Without a word between them, they pulled back from the temptation.

Oliver looked lovingly at her across the table, then grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Goodnight Miss McInerney."

"Goodnight Oliver."

The night passed without incidents or any further "friendly hugs". By morning the storm had blown itself out. The sun came out and Shane and Oliver were able to make their way home without any further delays.

Winter set in hard. At Christmas, Mayor Ryan Hallett organized a ball for all the town's business owners. Mrs. Capodiamonte was perhaps the busiest person in town with all the orders for new gowns for the ladies.

Shane ordered hers directly from a DC fashion house catalogue. It was a beautiful navy blue shade decorated with an elaborate satin bodice and an exaggerated bustle, giving a nod to the newest fashion trend.

Oliver was dumbstruck when she entered the elegant ballroom accompanied by the Haywiths.

Pastor Ramon rushed to her side and kissed her hand. He led her to the dance floor and then twirled her around all over the place. Oliver was left drinking punch and watching them dance a perfect Waltz. Her dance card filled up quickly after that; the mayor, Jonathan Walker and finally young Danny Barrett signing on to dance with her. When he realised the entire town's men folk were lining up to dance with her, he rushed up to Shane, who was by then dancing with Danny. Miffed, he tapped Danny on the shoulder and cut in, taking his place. Poor Danny, who spent the entire evening attempting to gather the courage to ask the most beautiful woman in the room to dance with him, was simply brushed aside.

"You amaze me Miss McInerney."

"What? Why?" She said, baffled. "You were dancing our dance with every man in this town but me."

"Every man?" She laughed. "I see you still never exaggerate, Mr. O'Toole. By the way, if I wasn't dancing with you, whose fault is that?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well, those men asked me to dance. Did you?"

After that, Shane danced every dance with him. No other man in the room dared to get anywhere near her.

The New Year came and went. Mid-February 1876, Shane received a letter responding to her request, with an attachment directed to Oliver from the international correspondent. She opened the envelope in the post office in front of Oliver and passed the attachment directly to him. She didn't read it. Oliver read it and then folded it, put it in his pocket and thanked her.

Shane couldn't ask him what the investigation results revealed. Had they found Holly? Could he get a divorce? Her curiosity was killing her.

She spent days busily buried in her office and couldn't spare the time to go see him. Even if she had, she still believed it was his job to tell her, not hers to chase after him. On Sunday, she saw him briefly at church talking to Dale. She seemed to be comforting him, patting his shoulder. What was going on? She thought to herself, annoyed.

She went to the inn for lunch with Rita and Norman, who had officially started courting at Christmas. Oliver wasn't there. On Monday, she went to the post office, but there were 5 people in line to talk to him. Every day of the week, there were always customers in the post office waiting to see him.

Another full week had gone by and she was going crazy.

On Saturday, he usually closed the post office a little earlier than regular weekdays. Today was no exception. When she saw him walking into his barn, she went after him.

The minute Oliver closed the office at around 3 o'clock; he changed out of his office clothes, grabbed a brush and went to the barn. He missed his horse. He needed to spend some time with Meshach. He was the best listener and confidante.

It was a cold day in early March, so he went in and closed the door behind him. He loved the smells of hay and his beloved horse. As he started to brush Meshach and tell him about his difficult week, the door of the barn opened and Shane came in. She closed it behind her.

"Miss McInerney? What are you doing here?" He sounded harsher than he intended. She looked a bit surprised by his tone and he felt a pinch of guilt. He backtracked. "Of course, you're always welcome in my house… or my barn." He forced a smile to soften his bad mood.

"Mr. O'Toole, I haven't seen you in almost 2 weeks. I have been worried."

He looked at her then and gave her a genuine smile. "I'm sorry, I've been somewhat preoccupied. I'm well… errr… how are you?"

Shane grabbed a brush hanging on a peg nearby, moved beside Oliver and started to brush the horse too. Their hands started to brush against each other's every few seconds and send shockwaves through their hearts. After a few times, Oliver stopped and turned to her. "Miss McInerney!" He said softly. "Why are you here?" His eyes were begging her, for what, he didn't know.

Shane stopped brushing the horse and turned her body to face him. "Why do you think?" She whispered back.

He reached for her chin and lifted up her face to look at him. Her eyes were full of tears and they started to run down her face. He wiped them away with his thumbs. Her soft and warm skin under his touch ignited a dormant flame deep within him.

"Miss McInerney, you shouldn't… you… I… I don't think…." The minute his gaze dropped to her mouth he was a lost man. He lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss, brushing his lips softly over hers. When her lips parted for him and he tasted her tongue, his senses exploded. He took her mouth hungrily; he was absolutely starving for her. He was drowning and she was his lifeline. She responded to him with equal passion. He dropped the brush on the floor, lifted her by the waist and carried her to a nearby pile of hay. He pressed her onto it, laying against her body as she pulled him to her. With their hands roaming all over each other's shoulders, arms, neck and face, they lost all sense of time and place. He kissed her repeatedly, never wanting to stop. She moaned into his mouth, revelling in his warmth and strong arms encircling her. His fire which was already burning hot was in danger of consuming them both as Shane started to kiss his chin, biting it provocatively, running her hot mouth on his strong jaw line, then moving to his earlobes, gently biting it and moaning in it and back to his mouth again. She was driving him crazy!

All of a sudden she felt his firm manhood up against her. She froze.

Is this what you want? She thought to herself as she heard her thoughts whispered in her ear at the exact same time.

"Is this what you want?" He asked her.

"Yes… no… yes! I do… I want you, Oliver. But not like this, not here, not today!"

He nodded. "I agree! You're not Holly, Miss McInerney, and as God as my witness, I will not treat you as I did her."

He stood up and helped her up to her feet. He started to remove loose hay from her hair. Shane shook out her skirt. She understood there was history there he didn't want to repeat with her but she needed to know the latest development in the investigation.

"Oliver, believe me, I didn't come here to seduce you. I actually came here to see if my friend was able to help you locate Holly."

He grabbed the brush from the floor and restarted Meshach's ministrations. "Yes, he did. I received the official document this week of what he told me by letter last week."

"Official document?" Shane asked, curiously.

"Yes, Miss McInerney, a death certificate, Holly is dead."