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“No, no Mr- Mr. Macguire, you can’t say it was completely unsuccessful- we made off with-”
“We made off with thirty-two dollars! And most of that’s going in the collection box, and now it’s fooking snowing and I’m stuck in an unfamiliar goddamn cabin with a bloody O’Driscoll!”
“I’m not a-”
“Not an O’Driscoll” Sean finishes, before Kieran has the chance to, shifting on his haunches on the floor. Kieran has started a little fire in the fireplace and is sitting across from him poking at it with a stick he’s found. He’s a little ball of nervous energy, and he can clearly sense the redhead’s frustrations.
“Not that it matters, but I really think we wouldn’t have made it back to camp before the snow got too deep to travel. This is a… decent spot all things considered.”
There was a couch. There was a bed with no mattress. There was a single blanket between them. It was late. Sean figured he’d take the couch and Kieran could sleep on the floor. He’d stolen a bottle of Kentucky bourbon though, and he figured he’d take a few swigs before he went to bed.
He took off the cap with a satisfying snap of the seal, lifted it to his mouth and drank. When he did this, his eyes were closed. When he opened them Kieran was looking at him expectantly.
He passed the bottle over, commenting on how Irish whiskey was surely superior to this American imitation.
“You remember Ireland?” Kieran asked, sounding genuinely curious.
The redhead wrinkled his nose in confusion. “…I sure hope I would, yeah?”
“Oh! No, I just mean… I was a little baby when I came over. I don’t remember living there at all.” Kieran explained. “Although that makes sense you’d remember. What with your voice and all.” He amended.
“I didn’t even know you was an immigrant.” Sean said, he paused for a moment, looking down. “I was fifteen. Seven years ago. My Da was a wanted man, neither of us really wanted to leave.”
Kieran nodded, looking interested, telling his own story. His father was just another opportunist wanting to take up some cheap land and become a successful farmer. Maybe in California, or Oregon. “Of course.” Kieran continued, “he ended up in West Elizabeth. He died of cholera, my mammy too.”
“Mm. Well, my da wanted for me a normal life. ‘Course they killed him in his bed and now I’m just as wanted as he ever was. The poor bastard.” Sean grimaced. He’d thought about that before, told Arthur and Lenny, but never someone who was like Kieran, practically a stranger. No, not only that, an O’Driscoll.
He snatched the bottle back up, pouring a considerable amount down his throat.
“I don’t even know where in Ireland I came from.”
“Donegal for me”
“Wherever I’m from, I just hope it’s not Belfast.”
Sean tilted his head in confusion.
Kieran seemed equally confused by this. “Colm’s from Belfast.” He explained.
“Oh.” Sean said, and then despite himself, he laughed.
“Kieran, how’d you even fall in with him, anyway.”
“After I got out of the army, I was a petty thief, nobody would hire me legitimately. I basically became the O’Driscoll errand boy”, Kieran shrugged, “I mostly took care of horses and ran bags of grain from one side of camp to the other, did laundry.” (Sean thought the image of Kieran cleaning Colm O’Driscoll’s laundry was kind of amusing.)
When Sean didn’t respond, the guy across from him continued, “they were all real mean. Made fun of me, they thought it was funny to taunt me. Bunch of- bunch of schoolyard bullies, those fools.”
Kieran took a drink, staring off into space.
“So, you’re in love with Mary-Beth?” Sean broke the silence, feeling confident enough to tease… or maybe just tipsy.
“And you with Karen.” Kieran retorted.
Sean felt his cheeks go red. Big as he talk, he wasn’t stupid. He knew Karen didn’t love him back. “Haven’t talked to her in a while.” He lied. Karen had told him to leave her alone.
Kieran raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It ain’t nothing to be sorry about!” Sean snapped, growing defensive. He reached out toward Kieran, who understood immediately, giving him back the bottle.
“I- if it makes you feel any better, I really don’t know how to tell Mary-Beth I love her.” The brunette stuttered, blushing just as much as Sean was sure he was.
“Ah, well, I understand that.”
“Forgive me, but I really didn’t think you had any problem with confessing your feelings for Karen.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “Not for Karen ya eejit. For-” he grunted in frustration at himself for saying that. “Well, it really doesn’t matter who.”
Kieran’s eyes got even wider, if that was possible. “For Mary-Beth?”
“No!” Sean cried.
“Oh, good.” A nervous chuckle. “Tilly?”
“No! No!” He groans in annoyance.
The younger man was getting progressively more flustered. Kieran was now terribly curious, Sean could see that. And he knew Kieran, despite being a former O’Driscoll, was not stupid. His next guess would be right. Might as well seal his own fate.
“It’s Lenny, ok? But if you tell anyone I’ll kill ya dead.”
Kieran laughed as if Sean was joking (he wasn’t joking). “I thought that might be the case, didn’t say it first cause I thought you’d attack me. Sean, he probably likes you too, just ask him some time! He’s already an ‘undesirable’ or whatever they call us, even if he’s not a homosexual, why would he care?”
“You’re one too then?”
“Oh well sure. I’ve had my eye on Mr. Morgan, before Miss Mary-Beth stole my heart.”
Sean doubled over in laughter, Arthur! “Yeah, something tells me he uh… he wouldn’t be interested.”
“Oh, come on. I could do worse!” At this point Sean’s head’s in his hands, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
“And he could do better! Like that girl he almost married. Or-or Charles!”
“Mr. Smith??”
Sean nodded. “Yes, ‘Mr. Smith’, the one whose horse you fell asleep using as a pillow that one time.”
“You think they’re a couple?”
Sean scoffed. “I have no idea but they keep staring at each other… wait, you know who else could do better? Mary-Beth!”
“Oh well, of course.”
Sean considered the camp. “She’d be better for Molly than Dutch is, that’s for certain, and they both write.”
“Or what about her and Miss Jackson?” Kieran added. The other nodded excitedly.
“I can see it! I was thinking Tilly and Javier, though.”
“Oh! I can see that, too! But what about Mr. Escuella and Mr. Smith. I’ve seen them roll over onto each other in their sleep and stay like that.”
“That’s funny, but I thought we’d established that Charles and Arthur are a perfect match.”
“Right, ok, I’d put Mr. Dutch with Mr. Matthews. I do think Mr. Matthews keeps him sane.”
Ok, Kieran’s hilarious
“Yes! Yes! Ok Mrs. Grimshaw and the reverend, right?”
Kieran’s laughing too now. “Ok, and Bill can go kiss a toad. Actually, maybe Karen and Molly, Mary-Beth and Tilly, and then Mr. Escuella can have Mr. Marston.”
Sean’s laughing so hard he’s started tearing up, he snaps his fingers, feeling inspired. “Oh! And Abigail and Mrs. Adler could definitely work!”
“Oh my god, this is great.”
“This is incredible… please never tell anyone involved in this conversation that we ever said any of this.”
“Oh yeah, no, absolutely not.” Kieran agreed. He looked over again, and then noticed that at some point between his oath of silence and Kieran’s promise, Sean had fallen asleep, hand around the bottleneck.
Kieran made his way to the couch and fell asleep as well.