Irish Slave Trade (Chapter One - Book 2 maybe?)

Authors Note - So I wrote this chapter and posted it, but I figured a ton of stuff out in my story and I am not starting with this chapter. In fact this chapter maybe chapter one of my second book. If you wish to still review and read it, that is okay I don't mind.

CHAPTER ONE

“Hush macushla don’t cry, Mama’s here,” Keera crooned softly as she cradled the small child in her arms. Nightmares were a common occurrence for her young eight year old daughter, Amanda. Indeed, even for her at thirty-two years they were common. Keera had nightmares of what would come of her daughter when she was gone. Would she continue to work as a slave for the cruel landlord, or would she be set free and given a chance at a better life? Keera wondered. Her heart sank a little at the thought of the landlord they both served, Lord Farmington. He was a cruel landlord, as were most of the British aristocrats. Lord Farmington was no exception to the rule, as she had prayed for when they had first been shipped off to England, on the large ship holding many more slaves, young and old. The months aboard the ship were the worst months of Keera's entire life, fearing for the lives of her family and praying for food to keep them strong. In those months her faith in God decreased, yet once she arrived on land she looked back on the journey and found God had been beside her every moment of the journey, good or bad.
Movement in the room next to her daughter's brought Keera back from her thoughts. Soon a dark haired man in his late thirties appeared. He was on the shorter side, yet whatever he lacked in height he made up for in wit and muscle. He had lighter brown hair which he kept short. His dark brown eyes, unusual for his Irish blood, had shown much happiness in his youth, before the work of raising a family began to take its toll. Now his eyes had lost much of their joy and had been replaced with pain. Keera glanced up from her daughter to her husband; she put a finger to her lips and gestured down to the slumbering girl, cautioning him to be quiet.
Neil sat in the doorway and looked down at his small fragile family. His eyes softened and he sat down beside them and wrapped his arm around Keera’s shoulders, while placing a hand on his small daughter's head. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the last few moments before daybreak. When the sun made its appearance, Neil would have to go back to working in the barn and Keera to the kitchen.
Keera laid her head on Neil’s shoulder and heaved in a sigh, moments like these were few and far in between. Their duties kept them both far too busy to enjoy each other’s company often. Still, she reminded herself not to complain. The good God had taken care of them better than some of the other slaves she had known. Keera had Neil and Amanda to keep her going, yet some people had been torn from their families and now had no one to help share the burden.
Neil kissed his wife’s dark brown hair gently, and asked “What 'tis it you are thinking at this moment that makes your brow crinkle, dearest aroon?” He buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of it.
Keera closed her eyes, a smile on her worn down face, “Why, I was just thinking how much the dearest God has blessed us,” she answered.
“God has blessed us you say?” Neil asked his voice holding a hint of scepticism.
Keera whipped her head up and looked at her husband, “Neil how could you still not believe God has a plan for us, with all the things he has graced us with?” She asked, her quiet voice holding in her shock.
Neil stared at Keera’s face; her dark brown locks fell across her eyes giving her a girlish look. He heaved a sigh and rested his head on the wall behind him. He knew his wife would never understand his reasons for not trusting in her God. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her God, he did. How else could the miracles he heard about be true? He believed though that God forgot about some people every now and again. Where was her God when Neil’s father would come home drunk and beat him, his siblings, and his mother? Where was her God when his first wife and child died of the fever, ten years before? Where was her God when the English captured them and brought them here to be slaves? Nowhere. Her God wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He had deserted them in his times of need, what kind of God did that?
When Neil didn’t answer her, Keeraa laid her head on his chest and fought back the tears threatening to escape. She didn’t want to think about anything that would ruin the moment they were sharing so she didn’t say anything. Instead she squeezed Neil’s hand and enjoyed the warmth radiating from his and Amanda’s bodies. Spring was well on its way with the cold slowly leaving, yet mornings still held the winter chill that refused to let up.
Neil couldn’t help but feel as if he disappointed Keera in his lack of love and faith for God; he needed her to know that he still loved her, even if he didn’t love her God. “I love you Keeraa a gra more than life itself and Amanda as if she were a child of my own body. You do know that don’t you?” Neil asked as he tilted his wife’s chin upward so he could see her face.
Grief flickered across Keera’s face, as she thought of her past life. Amanda’s own father, a drunk and abusive man, was killed in a fight a couple months before Amanda was born. Leaving a seven month pregnant young woman to fend for herself. Not that it was much of a change for Keera to take care of herself, yet at times during her pregnancy she had doubted God’s ways. When Neil came along, Keera’s faith in God had been restored and she prayed every day that God would show mercy on her for her doubting mind.
Keera pushed the thoughts of the past away from her mind and focused on the present. She glanced at Neil’s face and realized he was waiting for her answer, gently she stroked his hand, “Of course I know you love us, I have always known that. I love you also. As for Amanda, you are her father, maybe not in body but in heart. She has known no other father than you, thanks be to God.”
Neil nodded and kissed his wife’s forehead. Then pulling her closer to him he spoke in a whisper, almost not hearable “Yes, thanks be to God.”
A smile touched Keera’s face as she heard her husband utter the words of thanks to God. Those four words were enough to lift her heart higher than any mountain back in her home country of Ireland.
***
Neil kissed his wife’s lips gently and with a squeeze of her hand he slipped from her embrace and left the room. He crossed the kitchen and took his faded brown vest from the peg at the door and then left the house and started for the barn. The day indicates promising weather for working outside, he thought as he strolled down the road leading to the barn. He hummed a tune as he walked, one he had learned as a lad back in Ireland. He passed a couple more small shacks along the way that belonged to the other slaves, or ‘workhands’ as the English aristocrats liked to call them to make themselves feel better.
Even though Neil wasn’t a free man, he still couldn’t stop the happiness that flooded through him. He knew the main core of happiness came from his wife and daughter. Without them his whole disposition would be much like the other slaves, dull and revengeful. Not that he didn’t feel hatred and revenge toward the English because he did, yet with Keera’s gentle reminding he had somehow managed to contain his anger. Now he lived here and accepted the work that was given to him. At least my family had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, he thought as he walked into the barn and started on his usual morning ritual of feeding and watering the animals that belonged to Lord Farmington.
***
Keera let the tears of joy fall freely from her face like drops of rain. She gently set her daughter down on the dirt floor and covered her with a blanket, before she knelt down and began to say a prayer of thanks to God.
"Thanks be to God for the food brought to my family every day," she prayed fervently, "Thanks be to God for the roof over my family's head. Thanks be to God for granting me the grace to be able to raise a daughter. Thanks be to God for the five words spoken by my unbeliving husband," tears slipped from her face as she spoke. Once she had prayed for her family back home, and for Lord Farminton's conversion to the Catholic faith, Keera stood up and quietly left the room. She went to the kitchen and began to prepare some breakfast for herself and Amanda when she woke up. Keera ate her food quickly, then tied her cloak around her to protect herself from the cold, and then started up to the Farminton's house. She passed the barn on the way and smiled as she saw Neil forking hay into the horse's pen. She didn't bother him, but kept on to the house. She circled around the house and entered in the servant's door, joyful and ready to begin another day of hard toil in the kitchen.

Authors Note - As you may have noticed there are some Gaelic words in this story....Translations -

macushla - my girl  

a gra - my love