Patrick and the Blue-Blooded Red-Heads

Patrick and Blue Blooded Red-Heads

Patrick surveyed his kingdom from his kitchen table and concluded life was indeed good. As he finished his breakfast of fried eggs, thick sliced bacon, homemade bread with jam and fresh milk he watched his four red-headed O'Reilly sons hurriedly snarfing down their own meals as if it may be their last for a long time to come. His only daughter, Maggie, a budding beauty at age six with soft red-gold hair, already finished her portion and returned once again to churning butter. His lovely faithful wife, Leona, still floated from station to station making sure all were well fed and satisfied before she ever sat down long enough to partake in anything she prepared. Maybe if he shooed all the boys out to their waiting chores he could nibble on her ear lobe and remind her how much he loved her before he set off to work. She did arouse his ardor simply looking at her fine form. Ah, he thought he detected an ever so slight swelling about her waist line. Maybe there was another red-head little boy in the oven. That should ease her grief over losing little Harry only months ago. Yes, goodness abounds.

“Okay, boys. Everyone know what they are about for the day? Stuart, you're staying close to the house to help out your mom with the garden and the chickens. Danny, you gettin' along at the forge without Fred around to show you the ropes anymore?”

“Been at it long enough now to handle anything that might surprise. Houghy and Ralphy enough help for you at the milking sheds and the harvesting now that's going on?”

“Well, the other sharecroppers do help out over these next weeks. We should be fine. Let's get going. Hey, Maggie, could you run get my straw hat I left in my bedroom for me? Thanks, Wee-Babe.”

“Hm, Leona, Honey. You're looking mighty fine this morning.” Patrick wrapped his arms around her from the back and nuzzled in close to her neck. “Smell nice, too. Is this what me thinks it is?” He patted her belly. “I hope so. Makes up for losing baby Harry. Right?”

“Sure, sure. Another little blue blood. Exactly what we need.”

“Blue blood? What are you talking about, Hon?

“Didn't you read Frederick's last letter? He found my grandmother's portrait among the royalty of Austria. Exactly the people he is going to fight in this Great War. He knows it wasn't only his real father that was a nobleman. He knows I came from a royal bloodline. That makes all those red-headed boys blue bloods. You should be proud.”

“I've always been proud of me boys. Fred, too. He don't let me show him how much he means to me. But now he's gonna to be a member of the engineering corps. He'll really be able to prove himself there. He got a lot of experience right here on this farm. And he doesn't have to get himself shot up on the battlefield. With the extra money he will start sending I'm gonna see 'bout gettin' one of those tribal women in here to be a laundress for you. Won't that be of some help to ya? I know you work so hard.”

“Why, yes, Patrick. That'd be a huge blessing. Thank you.”

“Maybe she can help out at all the farms so we can share the cost.”

“Whatever works. Sounds great.”

“Oh, thank you, Maggie. See you both tonight. Gotta get moving.” He gave each of his girls a peck on their cheeks, slapped his hat over his red mop of hair and slipped out the door.

~~~~

The original land owner, Raymond McCormick, Sr., had been at the right place at the right time when the government was handing out land ownership through the Homestead Act back in '62. He was able to lay claim to 160 acres for himself, and three more parcels for his two adult sons and one daughter. Policy was changed once it was evident 160 acres could not support a sizable herd of cattle so the limit was increased to an additional 640 acres. The daughter was never going to homestead her tract so he immediately made it available to be sharecropped. One son, William, never made it home from the Civil War so his portion was also sharecropped. Raymond Jr. settled on his land and eventually inherited his father's holdings. Raymond arranged for his in-laws, Jan and Hattie Lammert, to take over his acreage where they established a dairy ranch. So now Raymond is perched atop a grand total of 1280 acres. Besides his aging in-laws running the dairy operation to the east, a bunk house full of cowboys ride herd on cattle to the west, Patrick's family has chickens, hogs, grow the biggest vegetable garden and operate the forge to the south and another sharecropper, Conrad Miller along with two bachelor sons, Dwayne and Clifford, run sheep to the north. Between all there are crop lands of wheat, flax, corn, and alfalfa. Orchards grace the lane up to the big house and grapevines roll along some of the hills. Overall it is a bit of paradise in the wilderness but it means there's always plenty of work to be done and the residents toil together and share the proceeds.

Patrick along with twelve-year-old Ralph and eleven-year-old Hugh always start and end the day helping the Lammerts milk their couple dozen Holsteins. They are housed in an unique twelve sided clap-board barn that ends up looking circular because of the numerous sides. The design makes feeding them all at the same time easier simply putting feed in the center as they make a circle into the milking stations.

“How's your wee missus this fine morning, Jan?”

“Having one of her bad spells, I'm afraid, Patrick. Thought it best she stay in the house and not stress about the girls today. We'll handle the work load. Sure good to have your fine sons to help out.”

“Speaking of helping. Me's thinking about asking Good Mister Raymond about gettin' one of them tribal women to come help with the laundry. If we all go in on the expense she could help us all out. I know my Leona's been showing signs of wearing down. Hasn't regained all her strength from having little Harry then dealing with the grief of losing 'im. Don't say nothin' to nobody, ya know how sensitive these women can get about their secrets, but 'tween you 'n me, she's got another bun in the oven already.”

“The Lord has surely blessed you.”

“Indeed He has. But the little lady feels overburdened. With Hattie slowing down, Maggie not quite big enough to be more help and Adeline mostly only fluff, there is a shortage of womanly know-how on these acres. I'm hoping the laundress could be put up on your parcel so she could help out Hattie with more, too. The other places are all bachelor dominated which the woman may object to. Whadda ya say?”

The older Dutchman straightened and bent backward stretching his back as he re-positioned under a new cow.

“Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into it. Is it as easy as going shopping to find one of these women willing to give up her life to come help us out?”

“Nah. We might have to do some wheelin' and dealin'. Those Crow Creek folks are used to that sort of thing I've heard. But we all got something we could offer as a trade. Right? I'll get Mr. McCormick to handle the diplomatic part. He's got some practice doin' that kind of thing.”

“You and your boys will have your hands full working on the harvest over the next few weeks. How 'bout letting me bring it up to our Raymond. He's apt to take pity on dear Hattie, her being his poor deceased wife's mother and all, and seeing she needs the help your Leona won't seem to be lacking in any capacity.”

“That's right kindly, Good Man. Let me know what ya need from me in the form of trade. Even Frederick, away at war, wants to contribute to this worker's ongoing expenses in order to help his mother.”

“Better gather your boys and get into the fields. I'll handle things from here. Appreciate all your help.”

“All, right. See you this evening. Come along, Fellas. We got harvesting ta do.”

So that's how Blue Bird, a red woman of the Black Crow tribe, came to work for with the red-headed O'Reilly blue-bloods.