Author's Note: Today's chapter was a little difficult to start, but it turned out better than I was expecting (IMO, at least) and I'm very happy with the result. I hope you enjoy it too, because Kieran and Mary-Beth are one of my favorite couples!
(Just to keep track of the ages here: Kieran is 40, Mary-Beth is 31, Killian is 7, and Mairead is 4.)
Day 12 Prompt: Tucking Them In
Bantry Hill Ranch, Omaha, NE - December 12, 1910
The last crimson wedge of the setting sun was just ducking beneath the horizon when Kieran Duffy crossed the Douglas County line. The snow on the trail glowed salmon pink in the fading light, intercut with long purple shadows from the snow-capped trees. He smiled and he ducked his head as he passed the familiar trail markers at the edge of Omaha, allowing the brim of his hat to shield his eyes from the glare. If he squinted hard enough, he could just barely make out the pair of horse barns that sat on the far end of his own property at the bottom of the hill, two tiny black specks against a sea of white. He and Mary-Beth had called this place home for almost a decade now, and the sight of it still filled Kieran with joy every time.
"Almost there, boy," he crooned to Baylock, patting the coal black stallion on the neck and earning a soft nicker in response. "We're almost home."
Ever since Micah Bell's very timely death in Rhodes during the summer of 1899, Baylock had fallen into Kieran's possession, being the only other person in camp the stallion trusted back then. Given his previous master's foul and snappish temperament, it was a relief to learn that the Missouri Fox Trotter was actually nothing like Micah. Instead he was as calm and sweet as could be, although still brazen as a bull when the situation demanded it. He'd bonded closely with Branwen, the two stallions sticking close together in camp and never fighting despite being surrounded by mares. When the Van der Linde gang disbanded late that autumn, Branwen had become Mary-Beth's horse, while Kieran kept Baylock for his own.
He and Mary-Beth settled down together almost immediately after they split from the gang. Their combined shares of the Blackwater money enabled them to purchase a hundred acre parcel of land just outside of town, which they named Bantry Hill as a nod to Kieran's Irish roots. By 1901 they'd finished building a modest but comfortable house for themselves, complete with an elegant office where Mary-Beth could spend time writing her novels, and already had the beginnings of a horse ranch up and running too. Kieran chose to focus primarily on Tennessee Walkers, with Branwen as the foundation stud; he'd loved the breed ever since he was a boy, having worked with them alongside his father. He did keep a few Missouri Fox Trotter mares around too, though, so that Baylock could sire a few nice foals now and again. One of the mares, a golden champagne called Honeycake, was a daughter of Arthur's Horchata, which he'd gifted them a few years ago when he and Charles came up for a visit.
The pair of them officially became Mr. and Mrs. Duffy on a warm spring day in 1902, at a tiny chapel in town. Their only guest was Miss Grimshaw, who was honored to be invited to witness one of her girls finding happiness with a man who truly loved her. After their wedding she decided to make her home in Omaha as well, and she now lived in a tiny house just down the street from the public library. The former gang matron had found work as a librarian, of all things, her years of experience handling strong-willed women and mean-tempered outlaws alike making her a perfect fit for the job. Susan Grimshaw feared no one and nothing, and the rate of on-time book returns had mysteriously doubled ever since she'd been appointed to the post. Mary-Beth visited her every time she went to town, and Miss Grimshaw always made sure Mary-Beth's books "accidentally" found their way back to the front of the Recommended section whenever they were returned.
In the years immediately following their marriage they had been blessed with two children: a son who they named Killian, born in 1903, and then a daughter, Mairead, in 1906. Seven-year-old Killian was eternally curious and endlessly energetic. He was always out exploring their acreage and coming home with all sorts of plants, flowers, and even critters in his pockets, which his parents then had to let back outside before they got too comfortable in the house. The boy seemed to have at least one new cut or scrape somewhere on him every time he came home, but when asked, he never could seem to recall exactly how they got there. Mary-Beth just shook her head and laughed whenever she patched and re-patched his clothes; according to her, she was exactly the same way at his age, and it nearly drove her poor mother to distraction. Reading, ironically, had been the one thing that could keep her still for any length of time, and the same held true for her son all these years later.
Mairead, in contrast, was already a carbon copy of her father at four years old: quiet and somewhat reserved around strangers, but sweet and thoughtful, with a particular affinity for all animals and especially horses. From the moment she first learned to walk, it was all her parents could do to keep her out of the corrals. There had been more than one occasion when they discovered her missing, searching frantically through the house and yard in a near-panic, only to find her sitting outside in the grass, feeding handfuls of stems to the mares and foals through the pasture fence. By the time she was three, Kieran gave up altogether on getting her to stay in the house when he went out to the barns, instead placing her in the turnout corral with Branwen and Baylock while he fed the other horses. He always kept her in sight, but there was nothing to worry about; the old stallions loved her, and she was never anything but gentle and respectful around them. Often by the time he finished feeding, he'd come around the corner to see her curled up asleep on the ground, her head pillowed on one of their flanks while the other patiently stood watch.
Baylock whinnied loudly when they finally got close enough to see the house, drawing Kieran back from his thoughts. One of the other horses - likely Branwen - neighed back to him, loudly enough to be heard even as far away as they still were. Kieran laughed when Baylock began prancing in excitement, lifting his feet so high with each step that it looked like he was trying out for a saddleseat competition. "I know, old man, I know," he chuckled when the black stallion snorted and tossed his head, trying to move up into a canter before easing back to a trot at just the slightest touch on the reins. "I'm ready to be back too."
The pair of them had departed thirteen days ago on the thirtieth of November, leading a train of five of the ranch's best yearlings on their way to auction in Kansas City, MO. Kieran always hated being away from home for so long, but this was the biggest sale of the year for the entire tri-state area, and he knew there were always a handful of wealthy buyers there looking for exactly the style of horse that Bantry Hill was known for. If they sold for a good price, the profits would see the family comfortably through the next several months with ease. So he kissed Mary-Beth and then pulled his children into his arms for a hug, promising he'd be back just as soon as he could, and maybe even bring a surprise or two back for them if they behaved themselves for their mother.
Omaha was just under two hundred miles from Kansas City, and the journey normally took a good five days each way if he went at a steady clip. That left a day for him to settle in and get the horses rested and groomed before the three-day sale began. Thankfully, all of his horses being gaited breeds at least made the ride a little more comfortable, but it was still a rough journey to make alone, especially as cold and windy as the plains tended to be in early December. This year, however, he'd sold all of his animals by the end of the second day, allowing him to start back sooner than expected. He hadn't told Mary-Beth or the kids about his early departure, wanting to surprise them instead.
Now, as he rode through the front gate and up the packed-dirt path to the barn, Kieran could see the glow of light through the living room curtains, and he smiled to himself. It should be just about bedtime for the kids, and Mary-Beth would be reading them a bedtime story, as always. He was quick to get Baylock settled in the pasture with Branwen, the two stallions so happy to be reunited that he could hardly get between them long enough to brush Baylock and pick out his feet. After a few minutes spent checking over the mares and foals, passing out a few sugar cubes to the friendliest of them, he made his way up to the house, taking his boots off and setting them by the front door to clean in the morning.
As silently as could be, he cracked open the front door, making sure it didn't creak before shutting it behind him. The living room was empty, but he could hear his wife's sweet voice drifting out to him from the other side of the house. Tip-toeing over the floor in his socks, he made his way up the hall toward their children's bedroom, grinning when he began to make out the words she was reading and instantly recognized the book they came from. Black Beauty had been published back in 1877, and was an old favorite for both Kieran and Mary-Beth to listen to in their youth. Now it was their children's favorite too - not surprising for Mairead, given how horse-crazy she was, but Killian loved it just as much. Thankfully, Mary-Beth taught him to read almost as soon as they set off from the gang together, which meant Kieran had spent just as much time reading it to them over the years as their mother had - possibly more.
Both of the kids had been asking for a pair of horses like Beauty and Ginger almost since they were old enough to form the words, and this year Kieran had finally managed it. He'd traded Baylock and Honeycake's gorgeous yearling colt to a neighbor up the road, who just so happened to have a black gelding and chestnut mare that near-perfectly fit the description in the book. They were both a little older, nearly ten, and well broken-in. Kieran had ridden them himself, just to make sure, and their temperaments were excellent, gentle and patient, perfect for a couple of kids' first mounts. He'd left them at the neighbor's when he went to deliver the colt, wanting to keep the two horses hidden until Christmas. But it was going to be tough to keep the secret, because he was nearly as excited to see their faces on Christmas morning as he knew they were going to be.
"Ginger and I were not of the regular tall carriage horse breed, we had more of the racing blood in us," he heard Mary-Beth read aloud, her tone soft and musical and the words so familiar she hardly needed the book to remember them anymore. "We stood about fifteen and a half hands high; we were therefore just as good for riding as we were for driving, and our master used to say that he disliked either horse or man that could do but one thing; and as he did not want to show off in London parks, he preferred a more active and useful kind of horse."
Kieran chose that moment to push the door open, and all three of the room's occupants paused to look his way. There was about a half-second of shocked silence, their eyes widening, and then:
"Papa! It's Papa!" Mairead cried, scrambling off the bed and rushing toward him with Killian right on her heels. The pair of them rushed into their father's arms, nearly knocking him over in their enthusiasm, and he laughed and pulled them into a tight hug, pressing scratchy kisses to their cheeks. They both threw their arms around his neck, not willing to let go just yet, and he scooped them up before standing to his full height in a well-practiced motion, one of them balanced on each arm so he could hold them against his chest.
Mary-Beth gave him a moment to adjust his balance, and then slid a marker between the pages of the book and made her way across the room to join them. "Welcome home," she said warmly, pulling all three of them into a hug pressing a kiss against her husband's lips. Her face was rosy when she smiled up at him, the light from the lamp on the bedside table bathing her skin in a honey-colored glow, and her rose perfume wafted over him as her auburn curls tickled his nose. "We've missed you. The kids have asked me every day when you'd be back."
"And I missed you all, Darlin'. Every single day."
"Mama said you weren't coming home until tomorrow!" Killian piped up, giving his mother an almost accusatory look.
"She didn't know," Kieran chuckled, quickly coming to Mary-Beth's defense. "The horses sold ahead of schedule, so I decided to come back a day early and surprise all of you."
"Ohhh." Killian nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Like an early Christmas present?"
"Is that why your beard is so long now?" asked Mairead, petting her father's scruffy facial hair. "Are you trying to look like Santa Claus?"
"Uh, sure," Kieran said quickly, winking at Mary-Beth over the top of the little girl's head. In truth, he had been in such a hurry to get home that he hadn't taken the time to so much as look in a mirror, let alone break out his shaving kit and trim his beard. He shuddered to think how bedraggled he must look right now, covered in stale sweat and trail dust with his hair smashed down every which way after a whole day under his hat. "Just trying to get in the Christmas spirit!"
"What was Kansas City like?" Killian asked as his father's arms finally tired and he set them both back down on the floor. "Were there a hundred thousand horses for sale there? Are the buildings really all thirty stories high? Does everyone get around in carriages or on trains? Do you think I can go with you next year?"
"Did you bring us anything?" Mairead interrupted. "You said you might, if we were good! We were good, weren't we, Mama?"
"Kids, slow down," Mary-Beth laughed. "Give him a second to breathe."
"The city was amazing, son, and I definitely plan to take you someday. Maybe not next year, but we'll see," Kieran answered, ruffling his hair and grinning. "And yes, Mairead, I did bring some things back - for all three of you," he added, winking at Mary-Beth. "But everything's still in my saddlebags out in the barn, and Baylock needs his rest after he worked so hard carrying me all the way home, so I don't wanna wake him up by going out there now. How about this: you two get into bed, and we'll read some more Black Beauty. Then tomorrow we'll all get up and have breakfast, and I can give you your presents and tell you all about the trip."
"Yessir," Killian said quickly, sliding in under the covers and holding them up for his sister to crawl in beside him. "Hurry up, Mare!"
"I'm coming, wait for me!" Mairead whined, having to make a few practice hops before she could jump high enough to pull herself fully onto the mattress. Kieran and Mary-Beth followed, shimmying into the double bed with the kids. Eventually Mairead wound up lying on her stomach on top of Mary-Beth, Killian leaning back against his father and sitting between his legs.
Mary-Beth reached for the book on the bedside table and flipped it to the page she had marked. "Alright, where were we?"
"Wait! Can Papa read the next part?" Mairead asked, putting every ounce of cuteness into her little doe eyes as she looked between the pair of them.
Kieran laughed and shrugged helplessly, taking the book from Mary-Beth when she held it out for him. "Well how could I possibly say no to that face? But you have to promise to go to sleep, okay? I'm about dead on my feet, and I need to go to bed soon or I'll be too tired to tell you two any stories tomorrow."
"Promise, Papa."
"Alright, let's see..." he muttered, turning to the correct page and finding the last line he'd heard before he walked in. "As for us, our greatest pleasure was when we were saddled for a riding party; the master on Ginger, the mistress on me, and the young ladies on Sir Oliver and Merrylegs. It was so cheerful to be trotting and cantering all together that it always put us in high spirits. I had the best of it, for I always carried the mistress; her weight was little, her voice was sweet, and her hand was so light on the rein that I was guided almost without feeling it..."
By the end of the short chapter, both kids were sound asleep. They didn't so much as stir when their parents carefully lifted them up and re-settled them beside each other in bed, limp and floppy and comfortable as they snored through it all in the way only children seemed to be able to. Kieran placed kisses on both of their foreheads, and Mary-Beth turned out the light, closing the door silently behind her before following Kieran around the corner to their own cozy bedroom.
While he stripped out of his dirty clothes and tossed them into the hamper, she headed into the bathroom and turned on the tap for the bathtub, letting it fill until hot steam billowed out the door into the cooler bedroom before beckoning for him to step inside. He did so, groaning in relief when the hot water immediately began loosening the knots that had been building up in his muscles for the entirety of the two-week journey. A moment later he felt Mary-Beth step into the bath behind him, and he slid forward to make room for her.
"I missed you," she murmured, kissing the shell of his ear as she began running a soapy rag across his back. "Always do, when you're gone so long."
"Mmhmm... missed you too," he hummed, eyelids fluttering. Her touch was so soothing that he could have fallen asleep right there, and he practically melted when she guided him to tilt his head back and poured water over his hair, gently scrubbing the dirt and grime from the dark strands with a bar of soap that smelled of honey and lavender. "Was everythin' okay, while I w's gone?" he mumbled, his words beginning to slur with a combination of exhaustion and immense relaxation.
"Everything was just fine," she said softly, rinsing the suds from his hair and beginning to scrub the rest of his body with the soapy rag. Normally that might have led them both down a rather dangerous path, but tonight Kieran was too tired to even entertain any lascivious thoughts, let alone act on them, and Mary-Beth thankfully seemed to be in agreement. "I finished a few more chapters of my novel, and the kids are both coming along great on their reading. They both chipped in with the chores and the horses without a fuss while you were away, so I didn't even need to ask Miss Grimshaw for any help this year. They're both so well-behaved and thoughtful, just like their father. I'm so proud of them."
Kieran smirked, opening his eyes enough to give her a sideways look. "Are you so sure they got it from me? How do you know I wasn't a little hell-raiser at their age?"
Mary-Beth snorted. "Oh, please. You're the sweetest man I've ever met in my life. If bein' an outlaw wasn't enough to change that, no way you've ever been anything but."
"Alright, fair point."
Once he'd been thoroughly scrubbed clean of all the dirt and sweat from his journey, she helped him out of the tub and then handed him a fresh union suit, drying and dressing herself while he wrung the water from his hair with a plush cotton towel and quickly ran a comb through it. One look in the mirror told him he'd been right - his beard was so unkempt it made him look half-feral, and he would definitely be doing something about that in the morning. Right now, though, the siren song of his soft, cozy bed was simply too strong. He could barely muster the decency to wait for Mary-Beth to crawl under the covers before he was flopping face-first down onto the mattress, his entire body immediately going boneless with a sigh of relief.
"Get some sleep, Sweetheart," Mary-Beth whispered, pulling the covers up over him before throwing an arm across his back and snuggling into his side. "I can't wait to hear about your trip in the morning."
"Love you, M'r-B'th..."
"I love you too, Kieran. Goodnight."
The two of them surrendered to sleep almost immediately after that, Mary-Beth drifting off only seconds after Kieran himself. There would be plenty for them all to talk about in the morning, gifts to give and stories to tell and eager questions to answer. Right now, though, all Kieran knew was the heavenly comfort of his bed, the comfort of having his children safe, and the warm, loving embrace of his beloved's arms which he'd missed for far too long. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.
Notes: I absolutely adore Kieran Duffy. He was one of the characters I was most excited to give a better ending to in this fic (as was Sean, who will have a chapter of his own coming up in the near future.) I just know that Kieran would be the best husband and father ever, giant sweetie-pie that he is, and I hope I did him justice here.
Next chapter we'll be heading back to Beecher's Hope and Lone Wolf Stead to check on the Marston and Morgan-Smith families. The prompt for Day 13 is "Getting Anxious for Christmas," and features John, Jack, Arthur, and Charles. See you then!