Journey of the Heart by Marjorie Farrell Page A

Burke ranch, the sun was going down and Henry was relieved to realize that the air was growing somewhat cooler. He had been sweltering in his suit and his face felt tight and hot. As they pulled up in front of the house, a tall man with pepper and salt hair walked over from the barn to greet them.
    “Ye made it back safe and sound, Elizabeth,” he said in a soft brogue. “And ye must be Mr. Beecham. Welcome to our home,” he added, putting out his hand.
    Of course Henry had known Caitlin was Irish on her father’s side, but Michael Burke was more…well, Irish than Henry had expected. He considered himself to be quite liberal, but was ashamed to realize that for one moment he had felt relief at the thought that his in-laws would hardly be visiting often.
    “How do you do, Mr. Burke. I am grateful for your hospitality. Caitlin has told me so much about her home,” he added, turning and smiling at her.
    “Well, she didn’t tell you to bring a broad-brimmed hat, did she, boyo?” said Michael with a clap on Henry’s shoulder. “Yer nose has gotten a little sun, I can see. We will have to find you a hat if ye’er going to do any ridin’.”
    Henry touched his nose and winced and, taking off his bowler hat, looked at it ruefully. “I would appreciate that, Mr. Burke.”
    Michael handed Elizabeth down and turning to Henry, said, “There’s a pump in back of the barn, if you want to wash the dust off. I’ll have Jake bring yer bag up. We’ll be eatin’ supper in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
    “Did you heat the stew, Michael?”
    “ And mixed up some biscuits, Elizabeth,” Michael teased.
    “Thank you, Michael,” Elizabeth answered, putting her arms around her husband’s waist. Turning to her daughter, she said: “Cait, why don’t you show Henry where the pump is, dear?”
    “Yes, Ma.”
    * * * *
    Supper turned out to be a rather strained affair. Michael and Elizabeth were very conscious that the sophisticated young man would soon be a part of their family. But since they did not know him, they could hardly yet treat him as such. So they asked very politely about his education and plans for the future.
    “I hear you attended Harvard College,” said Elizabeth. “I am originally from Boston myself,” she added.
    “Yes, Caitlin told me. I enjoyed my time in Cambridge very much,” Henry replied. “It is not so vastly different from Philadelphia, you know. But I am happy to have found a position in my own hometown.”
    “I spent a little time in the East meself,” said Michael, “working as a stable lad in New York. From what I’ve heard, New York would be a bit more lively than Boston or Philadelphia,” he added with a smile.
    “Caitlin tells me you were in the army, Mr. Burke.”
    “The U.S. Calvary for many years. ‘Twas the army brought me west and I’ve never wanted to leave.”
    “Had you considered making a career of it?”
    “A career? I suppose I might have made lieutenant or maybe even captain eventually. But I was not interested in gaining my promotions by turning people off their land.”
    “Ah, yes,” said Henry seriously. “The Indian question.”
    “I don’t know that there was any question about it, boyo. It was one fight after another to push them west. Or south, or wherever the government wanted them.”
    Henry nodded. “I agree that our policy was not always wise. But we are at least making an effort to educate them, and bring them into the mainstream of our society. I am happy to say that my parents were active in establishing schooling for the natives of this country.”
    Elizabeth could feel Michael’s reaction to this statement and put her hand on her husband’s knee. “It is always good to hear of the concern good people back east have for the welfare of Indians and freedmen,” she said. “I remember my father and mother attending abolitionist lectures in Boston when I was a girl.”
    * * * *
    “Educating them to join society!” exclaimed Michael later