A Bittersweet Garden

by Caren J. Werlinger

  “And after lunch with my grandparents?”

  She wasn’t going to let this drop.

  “We made one or two more stops, then came back to Cong. She had ordered takeout fish and chips from Cohan’s, and we finished with watching the movie at her place.”

  Behind her, Sheila said nothing, but Nora knew better than to look at her. “She’d never seen the film, so it was fun.” She knew she sounded lame, but…

  “Oh, my God!”

  Nora’s shoulders slumped.

  “You had sex!”

  Giving up, Nora turned. “Well, let’s just put it on a billboard on the side of the road.”

  “Sorry,” Sheila said, laughing. She rushed over to give Nora a hug. “You and Bri… I’m just so happy for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Sheila stepped back. “Aren’t you? Happy about it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “But? No, wait. This needs coffee and biscuits.” She took the hose from Nora’s hand and dragged her to the kitchen.

  She quickly brewed some fresh coffee and put a plate of sugar cookies on the table. Rusty took up his usual position under the table, looking cute and hoping for tidbits.

  “Now,” Sheila said, plunking down two cups of coffee. “I don’t need the down and dirty details—fascinating though I’m sure they are—but you and Bri. This is big. I’ve never known Briana to be with anyone in the years she’s been here.”

  “That’s because she hasn’t been.” Nora took a sip of coffee. “At least, I don’t think she has. She mentioned…” Nora wasn’t sure how much to say. “Liaisons when she was racing.”

  Sheila sat back. “So she told you about her racing days. And how they ended?”

  Nora nodded.

  “Well, well, well.” Sheila took a cookie for herself, nibbling on it. “She doesn’t share that with many. You’ve been allowed in where few dare to go.”

  “I know.” Nora frowned at her coffee. She reached for a cookie and dunked it. Chewing slowly, she said, “It means a lot that she told me.”

  “Then why the long face? Wasn’t it good?”

  “It was wonderful,” Nora admitted, flushing at the grin that lit up Sheila’s face. “But that’s the problem. I’m only here for a few more weeks. This just added a new complication to everything.”

  “’Tis only a complication if you don’t stay,” Sheila pointed out.

  “But I have to make that decision without…” Nora fluttered her hands. “All of this clouding the picture.”

  “But, isn’t this,” Sheila mimicked the hand-flutter, “part of the decision? People have relocated for less than love.”

  Nora choked on her coffee. “Love?”

  Sheila tilted her head. “Isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s only been…” Nora calculated. “Seven weeks.” She slumped back against her chair. “Is it?”

  Only later did she realize that Sheila let that line of questioning drop. Let me stew in my own mess, more accurately.

  Instead, “How’s Móirín?” Sheila asked.

  “Oh, and that’s another thing!” Nora jabbed a cookie in Sheila’s direction. “This morning, I come home and the entire cottage is torn apart! Curtains ripped down, bedspread and sheets off the bed. It’s a mess. All because I didn’t come back last night.”

  “Is that the way of it? I’ll drive you back to the cottage later and help you put things to rights.”

  “We’ll need screwdrivers and screws,” Nora grumbled. “I don’t want Mr. McCarthy to think I tore his place apart.”

  “Orlagh McCarthy would know better.”

  Nora leaned forward. “Can we take a day and go looking for that place I saw, the stone circle in my vision?”

  Sheila nodded. “I think we should. How about Sunday?”

  Outside, a truck drove up to the nursery.

  “I’ll talk to Quinn, and you ask Bri about it when you see her tonight. Whenever you get around to talking, that is.”

  With a wicked grin, Sheila pushed back from the table and went out to wait on her customer.

  “That’s not so bad, is it?”

  Briana crooned softly as she ran a fuzzy saddle blanket over the withers and back of one of the yearlings. Three others crowded round her, knowing her pockets were stuffed with carrots. She took turns draping the saddle blanket on each of them, rubbing them with it to get them accustomed to the feel. She even draped an arm over each back, hanging to put a little weight on them. They were too young to be ridden, but not too young to learn the feel of a blanket and, soon, a saddle. In a few weeks, she’d start the same process with the two foals born this season, beginning with halter training.

  Snapping a few carrots, she offered them chunks.

  “They’re coming along well.”

  She turned to find Quinn watching her, his arms folded on the paddock fence. The yearlings took off, bucking and racing their way across the pasture while she joined him, climbing the fence to sit on the top rail.

  “They are. Nice breeding, nice manners.”

  “The last thanks to you.”

  She noticed the frown on his face. “What’s going on?”

  He avoided her eyes. “We’re probably going to have to sell three of them.”

  Her heart plummeted. It was part of this business—breeding the mares, raising the foals, training them, loving them, only to have to sell them—but she would never get used to it. She knew it was nearly as hard on Quinn.

  “Any local buyers?”

  That at least would be preferable to an auction, where God-knows-who could buy them.

  “I’ve a few bites,” he said. “I’ll ask around some more.”

  The yearlings circled back over, nosing them, hoping for more treats. Quinn rubbed the delicate faces, tugged on forelocks.

  “Maybe we can keep two to train as stable hacks.”

  She hid a smile. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d ended up keeping an entire crop of foals. That was what happened with Butler, Yeats, and William.

  “Have you talked to Nora today?” he asked.

  She almost fell off the fence. She knew Liam wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to pass on a juicy bit of gossip, especially when it came to Bri’s previously nonexistent sex life.

  “Why?”

  “Got a text from Sheila. Seems Sióg Cottage sustained some vandalism last night.” He scratched his chin, waiting a beat. “I hear she wasn’t there.”

  Bri ignored that last bit. “What kind of vandalism?”

  “Most likely the ghostly sort. Curtains ripped down, bed tossed. Sheila’s going over later with some tools to help her straighten things up.”

  Briana bit her lip. “Quinn…”

  “Go. We’re nearly done for the day anyhow.”

  She hopped down and jogged to the cottage to pack a few things. She paused in the midst of stuffing some clean clothes into a rucksack. She wasn’t even certain she’d be welcomed to spend the night. Dropping to sit on the side of her mattress, she stared at the floor.

  You can stop this now. It was one night. It doesn’t mean anything.

  Except it did, and she didn’t want it to be just one night. She closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed, flinging her arms over her face. She’d never lost control with anyone the way she had with Nora. She’d never wanted to sleep with anyone after the sex was over, and she’d never, ever cuddled with anyone the way she had last night.

  She’s leaving in just over a month, you daft moron, she reminded herself, but, “Bugger it.”

  She finished packing and remembered to scoop a bag of food for Shannon, who was waiting by the SUV.

  “How did you know?”

  Shannon gave a scolding woof.

  “All right, I’m coming.”

  Sheila and Nora were already there when she pulled up. She turned the car off and walked into the cottage. Looking around at the mess, she let out a soft whistle.

  When Nora appeared from th
e kitchen, Bri felt her breath catch in her chest.

  “Hi,” Nora said.

  “Hi.”

  Shannon hopped up to place her paws on Nora’s shoulders and nose her cheek.

  “I’m fine,” Nora said, giving her a hug and staring at Briana.

  Sheila loudly cleared her throat. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, kiss each other already and let’s get to work.”

  Briana scowled but couldn’t hide the blush that made Sheila laugh.

  Shannon dropped to all fours. Briana accepted a light kiss on the cheek from Nora and set about picking up a few books and pens still scattered in the corners while Sheila dragged a chair to the window and climbed up to reattach the curtain rod. She had to drill new holes and use new screws, as the old ones were bent and stripped.

  “Well, this ghost—Móirín or Rowan—has some strength behind her when she’s angry,” Sheila said.

  “That’s what worries me,” Briana said, looking at Nora. “What if she directed some of this at you?”

  Nora was busy shuffling loose pages she’d picked up and didn’t immediately protest this time that they meant her no harm, a change for which Bri was grateful.

  “I’ve a question,” Sheila said, pausing her work for a moment. “If the ghost has been in this room, why is Shannon willing to be in here, when she won’t go in the upstairs room?”

  Nora and Briana both stopped what they were doing as well. When they all turned to look at her, Shannon stared up at them, her tail thumping against the floor.

  “I’ve no idea,” Briana said.

  “We’re going to search on Sunday for that circle of stones I saw when Eve did her voodoo on me,” Nora said. “Speaking of which, have either of you seen her?”

  “No.” Sheila glanced down at Briana, who shook her head.

  “Need another searcher?” Briana asked.

  Her stomach did a slow flip at the way Nora’s face lit up as she said, “That would be great.”

  Sheila grunted a little as she leaned in to apply pressure to a last turn of the screwdriver. “Got it. Hand me that rod, will you?”

  She rehung the curtains, adjusting them along the rod. “There. Old man McCarthy will never know.”

  They headed upstairs where Sheila tackled that curtain rod as well while Briana helped Nora make the bed. Shannon kept a watchful eye from the hall.

  Briana didn’t dare meet Nora’s eyes as her face burned, imagining being in that bed with Nora, tearing all those neatly tucked sheets apart again. She wondered if Nora was thinking the same thing.

  When they were done, Nora straightened a last few things on the dresser. “Thank you both so much. This would have taken me ages on my own.”

  They all went back downstairs.

  Sheila put her tools back in her bag. “Well, I should be going—”

  “NO!”

  Sheila looked up at the simultaneous outburst from both Nora and Bri. “Okay, then. How about some supper?”

  Briana was pretty certain Sheila was fighting the impulse to laugh at the pair of them, but the thought of being alone with Nora after last night was… Nora had practically shouted “No” as well. She’d seemed fine this morning, but she’d had the whole day to think things through, just as Briana had. What if she now thought their night together was a mistake? What if she had no intention of asking Briana to spend the night here at the cottage? This felt a lot more complicated than it had an hour ago.

  They cobbled together a dinner of pork chops, green beans, and sliced tomatoes drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil—a bit fancier than anything Bri would have made for herself. She did go to the car to get some food for Shannon but left her rucksack. All of a sudden, she wasn’t certain she’d be needing it. She wasn’t certain of anything.

  Sheila kept the dinner conversation going by asking lots of questions about their day of rambling, but when supper was over and the dishes were done, she said, “I am now going home.”

  She gave Nora and Bri each a kiss on the cheek, chuckling under her breath before getting in her SUV to drive away with a wink and a wave.

  Briana stood outside in the gathering dusk, scuffing one boot into the dirt. “I suppose I should be going.”

  Nora stood beside her. “Do you want to go?”

  Briana couldn’t look at her. “Do you want me to?”

  A few seconds ticked by.

  “No. I want you to stay. If you want.”

  Briana dared a sideways glance at Nora then, her blonde hair catching the last of the evening light. “We’re really not good at this, are we?”

  “I suppose we’re not.” Nora gave a nervous little laugh. “Neither of us has had much practice.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Nora’s answer was in her kiss. She wrapped her arms around Bri, pulling her to her toes as their mouths met, tentatively at first. But when Nora parted her lips and deepened the kiss with little flicks of her tongue, the doubt disappeared.

  Briana drew away. “I have one request, though.”

  Nora smiled, tracing a finger over Briana’s earlobe, something she’d discovered could almost hypnotize her. “What’s that?”

  Briana nearly forgot what she’d been about to say. “Can we use the other bedroom? I feel as if we’d be part of a threesome in your usual room.”

  Nora laughed softly. “Yes, we can use the other room.”

  Briana got her bag from the car and allowed Nora to lead the way upstairs.

  The woods were wet, everything soaked from the steady rain that fell. Nora’s hair dripped onto her face as she pushed through the ferns and the bushes. Impatiently, she swept it back, wiping the wetness from her eyes as she strained to see. Faintly, the sound of weeping came to her over the steady thrum of the rain.

  “Where are you?”

  There was no answer, only the crying.

  She pushed forward and suddenly found herself lying flat on the ground. Pushing up out of the grass was a half-buried stone, and she knew where she was. Squinting through the rain and the darkness, she tried to get her bearings.

  Just outside the circle was a massive oak tree, its enormous canopy dwarfing the surrounding trees. It seemed the crying was coming from beyond that tree. She struggled to her feet and tried to move forward, but something was pulling her from behind.

  She glanced down and saw a huge dog, teeth fastened onto her shirttail, tugging on it. Jerking and dragging her back…

  Nora’s eyes opened, and she found herself looking up into Briana and Shannon’s faces as they both loomed over her.

  “What happened?” she mumbled.

  Shannon was half-lying across Nora’s body, pinning her to the mattress.

  “You were thrashing about, calling out in your sleep,” Briana said.

  Nora lifted her hands to rub her eyes. “But…” she sniffed. Her hands were clean. No mud or grass. “I didn’t leave the bed?”

  “No. Though you might have if it hadn’t been for Shannon.”

  Shannon dropped her head to Nora’s chest.

  She rested a hand on the massive head. “She brought me back. In my dream, she was there.”

  “You wouldn’t wake, wouldn’t answer me.” Briana sounded shaken. “What was happening?”

  Nora closed her eyes. “I was searching. It was raining, but I could hear someone crying, and I was trying to find whoever it was. These are the kind of dreams I’ve had before where I wake up muddy and wet, like I’ve really been tromping through the woods.” Her eyes opened. “I was in the stone circle. I fell over one of the stones.”

  She gripped Briana’s arm. “We have to go there.”

  “We will.” Briana lay back down, her cheek resting against Nora’s shoulder. “Tomorrow.”

  Shannon wriggled further onto the bed, first one hind paw—waiting to see if she would be scolded—then the other until she was sandwiched in between the two humans.

  “Why did I stay in bed tonight, I wonder?” Nora pressed her lips to Briana’s forehead. “W
as it because we were in this room? Or because you and Shannon were with me?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t mind saying, I don’t like it one bit.”

  Nora realized they were both still naked. She chuckled. “If I had left the cottage, would I have put clothes on?”

  Briana propped up on an elbow. “You don’t get to go chasing after the ghost naked through the forest. I’m the only one’s allowed to see that.”

  Nora lifted her face for a kiss. “Deal. If I did, the ghost wouldn’t be the scariest thing out there.”

  Chapter 13

  The spring day is as joyous as the mood. After the baby’s baptism, the family exits St. Mary’s to find a man waiting for them, standing beside a strange contraption.

  “It’s a Daguerrotype machine,” Donall explains excitedly. “He’s going to make a picture of us with it, so we’ll always remember this day.”

  The man poses them, though he fights to maintain his patience with the younger children, who won’t stay still. When he finally has the image he wants, he packs up his machine with a promise to deliver the plate the following week.

  As they traipse home, Donall pulls a wagon holding the younger children and little Aoibheann Theresa, dressed in her white christening robe. Callum and Rowan skip alongside, joining Donall in a song.

  Dropping back to hold her mother’s hand, Rowan flounces along in a yellow dress given her by Mrs. Smythe. It had belonged to the youngest daughter of the family, “but she’s long since outgrown it,” Mrs. Smythe said, holding it up. Móirín worked her magic to make it fit, topping it off with a scarlet ribbon tying back Rowan’s dark hair.

  Donall glances in their direction. Móirín looks happier than he’s seen her since before the baby was born. She catches his eye and smiles, as if she knows what he’s thinking.

  Back home, they set about making a meal to celebrate. Heaven knows they need to celebrate. With no new crops yet to harvest, more families have had deaths or moved away or left for America. There’s a bleakness that hangs over every day like a cloud.

  Donall mixes the dough for a loaf of soda bread while Móirín feeds the baby. Callum is put to work keeping the three little ones occupied.