“Weel, we can probably give ye a hand if it is needed.”
“If it is, I will be sure to call on you.”
“What does your da plant?” asked Robbie.
“He had not decided by the time I left, so I am not sure.”
“He doesnae have a regular crop?”
“No. Used to, but he has lately taken to deciding closer to planting time. Depends on what markets he can sell to. War made for a lot of changes, and the markets he used to plant for are not there any longer. He makes more than enough to keep his house and land, pay what he must in fees and taxes, and feed his family.
“He was talking about planting some herbs when I left, as there is always a market for them and it appears to be growing. Mother said she would deal with them. With the lot of us grown and setting out on our own, he seems to be farming for himself.”
“And why not? Sensible. Keeps him busy and feeling useful and his pockets full.”
James smiled at Robbie. “True enough.”
“I ken that none of us, including Iain, have any great wish to herd sheep, though we all can if needed,” Robbie said. “And we help with the shearing. Ye really have to love something to do it right up until ye die.”
“That is how Iain got the Powells. He doesnae have to worry much about it,” said Geordie. “The brothers were born into the trade and love it.”
“I think they love the dogs they say they need to do the work,” muttered Robbie, and then smiled at the woman who came to collect their empty dishes.
“That is quite possible,” agreed Geordie before turning to the woman to sort out the bill.
As they left the eatery, Geordie looked around and shook his head. It was a town in Missouri that was rapidly growing, and by the look of it, already had all the problems that could bring. When Robbie and James stepped up beside him, he headed straight for the train station. He appreciated traveling by train but he really did not like the towns they stopped in. At first look they were thriving, but a closer look revealed not everyone was sharing in that bounty and some of the big losers were the original citizens, the ones who had settled there before the trains had arrived.
When they stopped at the place that sold the tickets, he slipped some money to James so he could get passage for them and their horses. He told his friend he was going to the stables to see the animals, then strode away. The moment he was in the stall with his horse Romeo, he felt his growing tension begin to ease. His horse’s name may have been a foolish whim of his, but the animal was a good choice. This journey had showed him one thing—he was not a man who should try to settle in a city or even a large town.
* * *
“Is your brother all right?” James asked as Geordie marched ahead of them while he and Robbie started to walk to the stables.
“Aye. He just hates the crowds, the noise, the smells, and all that. He kenned that years ago when we had to leave our cottage and had to spend some time in the city, but I think this journey has really set the knowledge in hard.” Robbie looked around. “Cannae say I disagree with his opinion of such places. I dinnae think I am made for such a living.”
“Not everyone is. I am not that fond of it but get the feeling Geordie would not even want to be a regular visitor.”
“Probably not.”
“Well, someone has to live in the little towns and on the farms.”
James shrugged and Robbie laughed. “And I suspicion there are many who feel as he and I do. The war drained the country of men better than people like me or Geordie, and it could soon leave cities begging for residents.”
“True,” James murmured as he watched a group of four women slow their march past the storefronts to stare at him and Robbie. “I have begun to wonder if three unwed men traveling through the country are actually safe from all the dangers.”
Robbie laughed again. “There is that. Dinnae fear, we are nearing the ports where boats crammed with people are landing and searching for a place all the time so we won’t be the only targets.”
“True. Let us hope they do not all tote their families along.”
“Weel, I warn ye, the one running the stables is female and I got the feeling she is looking hard, so ye arenae safe yet.”
James stepped into the stables right behind Robbie to find a tall, strapping woman cornering Geordie while he struggled to get his mount out of his stall. The softest feature on her was her long, red-streaked gold hair tied in a loose tail that ran down her back. Then she spoke and James softly cursed. Her soft Irish accent could easily stir the interest of one of the men still alive and, probably more important to her, single.
They moved to the stalls where their horses stood and got their things so they could board the next train. James took the time to thoroughly check his mount for any signs that the train travel was troubling him physically, relieved to find none. He would prefer riding to Maine but could see that even the train travel was hard on Robbie, as he had taken his cane out of his pack. The filth that had tried to beat him into fighting for them had not just caused him untold pain but had done what they could to cripple him for life. That had just been vicious and unnecessary, but he feared the war had bred a lot of men who were so inclined.
“I got my cousin’s boys to help me and we took them out for a little ride. Thought they might need it. I think they appreciated it.”
James looked at the woman who stood by the door of the stall, resting her arms on the top of the door, and idly wondered if she was on the hunt, too. “I suspect they did. Not used to being shut up in a train for days.”
