The poor man’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I was told to ask that. But you look like decent people, the both of you.”
An hour later, the Waldrens drove off with Ginger loaded in the trailer and Sally hanging out the car window waving at Briana.
Briana’s throat burned with the effort to choke back her tears. She’d brought that filly along from the time she was foaled. It had to be done, but it never got any easier.
“Thanks, squint,” Quinn said, giving her a squeeze. “I know you’ll miss her, but she and young Sally will make a good pair.”
Briana nodded and stalked away to her cottage. Quinn let her go. She reached into the fridge for a Coke and slammed the door. She was standing with a hand pressed to her eyes when someone knocked on the door.
“Go away,” she said, swiping her arm across her face.
“Okay.”
“Nora!” Briana whipped around. “I thought you were Quinn.”
Nora hesitantly stepped inside. Even with deep, bruised-looking circles under her eyes, she was beautiful. Briana guessed she hadn’t been sleeping well. I know the feeling.
When Briana only stared at her and didn’t say anything else, Nora folded her arms tightly across her chest.
“Is it okay I’m here?”
“Yes. I… we just sold Ginger.” Briana held out the bottle. “Coke?”
“Sure.”
Briana handed her that bottle and got another from the refrigerator. “How are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Nora fiddled with the top, twisting it in her fingers. “How about you? You’re limping more.”
“I’m fine. My leg just aches a bit.”
They sat, an awkward silence stretching out like a thorny hedge between them. Shannon pawed at the back door. Briana got up to let her in, and she went straight to Nora, sitting and gazing into her face.
“I would have come to the hospital to fetch you, but…” Briana said, but the rest of her thought trailed into nothingness.
“No. It was fine. Sheila and Fiona have been great.” Nora nodded, scratching Shannon’s ear.
They both took long drinks of their Cokes.
“Quinn said you’re staying with them.”
“Yeah.” Nora glanced at her. “Have you been back? To the cottage?”
Briana shook her head.
“Me, either. Sheila made me promise I wouldn’t go alone.”
Briana looked at her warily. “Is that why you’re here?”
“What? No. I mean, not entirely. I wanted to see you. To talk to you. But clearly you don’t.” Nora set her Coke down and stood. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“You’re not bothering me!” Briana stood, too, walking across the kitchen, wishing there was something to punch. “I’ve wanted to talk to you, but there’s always someone about.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Would you stop apologizing!”
“If you want me to stop apologizing, then stop yelling at me!”
“I’m not yelling at you! I’m just—” Briana turned away, her fingers pressed to her eyes again. She fecking hated to cry.
“Christ.” Her shoulders hunched defensively. “I love you. And I almost lost you without ever telling you that.”
It seemed the air was suddenly sucked out of the kitchen, and she found it hard to breathe. Had she really said those words aloud?
Gentle hands made her turn, pried her fingers loose. Briana blinked up into Nora’s eyes. Her own felt as bruised and swollen as Nora’s looked.
“What did you say?” Nora asked.
Briana’s eyes darted, looking for an escape, but Nora smiled and cradled her face in her hands—her warm, soft hands.
With a heavy sigh, Briana gave up. “I said I love you. And I almost lost you.”
Nora crushed her mouth to Bri’s, holding her tightly. She pulled away long enough to whisper, “I love you, too,” and then kissed her again.
Nora startled awake, but it took her a moment to figure out where she was. Briana’s couch, her head cradled on Bri’s lap, as they had both apparently fallen asleep. Shannon sat up from where she’d been keeping watch and licked Nora’s cheek.
She peered at the clock. These few hours had been the best sleep she’d had since that day. She gazed up into Briana’s face, her head lolled to one side. Nora suspected Briana hadn’t slept any better lately.
She sat up, and Briana stirred, rubbing her eyes.
“Didn’t intend to fall asleep,” Briana mumbled.
“I think we both needed it.”
Bri noticed the way Nora was watching her. “What?”
“Nothing,” Nora said. “I just love you is all.”
Briana flushed. “You say that, so natural.”
Nora shook her head. “I don’t. It should be natural, but it’s been ages since I’ve said it to anyone. I never thought I would again.”
“I’ve never said it to anyone but Mum. And then hardly to her.” Briana looked at her. “I love you, Nora.”
It made Nora ridiculously happy to hear it. Her stomach rumbled. “I’m starving.”
“Me, too, come to think of it.” Briana shoved to her feet and held out her hand. “Let’s go out.”
“Where?”
“The Cottage at Ashford. You’re still on holiday. It should feel like a holiday.”
“I ought to change, but Sheila only packed a few things, and these are best I have with me.”
Briana looked at her in a way that made her blush. “You look great. Let me get out of my stable clothes, and we’ll go.”
She paused in the doorway to the bedroom and turned. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
Nora hesitated. Part of her wanted to be with Bri more than anything, but night was still the hardest time. The things they’d shared today had already left her feeling raw and wrung out. “I’d like to, but…”
She stole a glance at Briana, afraid of what she might see, but Bri’s gaze reassured her that she wasn’t angry or hurt.
“It’s okay. Call Sheila and let her know I’ll bring you back tonight.”
As they were on the early side for dinner, the parking lot had only a few cars. Liam’s sister, Mary, greeted them with a big smile. She sat them at a table near a window so they’d have a view of the castle and the lough.
They ordered wine and sat quietly, enjoying the vista.
When their fish and chips arrived, Mary asked, “How are things at the haunted cottage?”
Nora felt the color drain from her face, but Briana quickly said, “Oh, the ghost is having a ball, rearranging the furniture.”
Mary looked perplexed at Nora’s reaction but left them to eat.
Nora poked her fork into her fish.
“Better to make light of it, don’t you think?” Briana asked.
Nora nodded and forced a smile. “You’re right. No one would believe the truth if we told them.”
They finished their dinner, and passed on dessert. The late summer evening lingered.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Nora suggested.
They crossed the bridge and wandered the garden paths, meandering toward the shore. Without speaking, they followed the undulating trail. A gentle breeze blew off the water, promising rain before morning. Soft waves lapped at the rocks.
When they got some distance from the castle and found themselves alone, Nora reached for Bri’s hand. They stood, side by side, gazing back at the castle.
“I need to go back,” Nora said softly.
Briana nodded. “Get back on the horse.”
One corner of Nora’s mouth curled. “Something like that. There is something to be said for facing the thing you’re afraid of. But first…”
She looked at Briana. “I need to see Eve.”
Briana nodded again. “We’ll see if Quinn and Sheila will go with us. Tomorrow.”
As they’d done the first time, Sheila parked her SUV, and they walked the rest of the way. This time, they brought no bask
ets of gifts, and both Quinn and Sheila had sheathed knives on their belts. In addition, Briana had a backpack stuffed with a first-aid kit, a blanket, a couple of torches, some rope, and a bottle of whiskey.
“If we don’t need any of the rest,” she said with a shrug as she let Shannon out of the cargo hold, “we’ll just drink the whiskey.”
“I’m for that,” Fiona said.
She’d called Jack to tell him she’d be one more day, declaring, “We’re this close to answers, I’m not leaving yet!”
The undergrowth was heavier now than it had been earlier in the summer. Thick vines blocked their path, and a few times, Sheila had to hack a way through with her knife, which was more a type of machete she used at the nursery.
The overnight rain had left everything sodden, but Nora was grateful it had stopped before dawn. Their legs and boots were still wet, but at least they didn’t have to make this trek through a downpour.
When at last they approached the clearing where Eve’s dwelling was, they all stopped to survey the scene from the cover of the woods. Nora wasn’t certain what they expected—some kind of booby trap? But there was nothing. In fact, the entire place seemed to be deserted.
The cottage looked more than ever as if it was built into the hill. There was more moss, more vines covering it as if the earth was slowly consuming it. The plants and flowers that Eve had grown so carefully looked untended. No smoke rose from the chimney, which also had vines growing thickly up the stones.
Nevertheless, they approached cautiously. Shannon led the way, sniffing the air, but not behaving as if she sensed anything amiss. Nora noted that Quinn had his knife in his hand.
“Eve?” Sheila called out. “We need to talk to you.”
There was no response.
Nora decided to try, kin to kin. “Aoibheann Ní Heaghra.”
Briana looked at her.
Nora shrugged. “She’s a Heaghra, not a Mheolchatha.”
There was still no movement, no sign of any life. Quinn went to the oak door, which had patches of black mold growing on it. He had to cut away some ivy that had crept up and wrapped itself around the iron latch. He shoved. It wouldn’t budge. He put his shoulder to the oak planks and tried again.
“It won’t open.”
Sheila made her way through the overgrown plants to one of the windows, rubbing the glass clean and trying to peer inside. “Maybe something’s happened to her. She might be hurt. We should have come sooner.”
But Fiona only said, “Nora, you try.”
Nora wasn’t certain how she’d be able to open the door if it hadn’t given way under Quinn’s weight, but she approached. When she placed her hand on the latch, it clicked, and the door swung open soundlessly.
“I’ll be damned,” Quinn said.
Shannon trotted inside and the humans followed.
“This is impossible,” Sheila said.
Dust covered every surface. Hanks of dried herbs and flowers still hung from the beams, but they were encased in cobwebs. Motes of dust stirred as their entrance disturbed the air.
“It looks like no one’s been here in years,” Briana said. “Decades.”
Quinn squatted in front of the hearth, poking at the ashes. “Cold.”
Fiona went to a stack of Eve’s books, equally dusty as she leafed through them. “Where’d she go?”
“Was she ever really here?” Sheila asked. “I’m beginning to wonder if we dreamed her up.”
“We didn’t.” Nora was standing at the table, where Eve’s lantern sat, dust-free, the candle inside snuffed out.
Next to it, a cloth-wrapped object lay, as free of dust as the lantern. Gently, she laid back the folds of cloth. The others gathered round.
Lying there was a branch of bird cherry, its white blossoms still fragrant when Nora picked it up.
“What’s that?” Briana asked. “Under the branch.”
“A photo,” Sheila said.
“No,” Fiona corrected her. “It’s not a photo. It’s older. It’s a Daguerrotype. My grandparents had some of these.”
They all leaned over to look more closely at the image of a tall, handsome man, his arm around a beautiful black-haired woman who was holding a baby, surrounded by five other children.
“It’s Móirín and Donall, and their family,” Nora said. “I recognize them.”
Fiona tapped the glass. “Look at the christening dress. Was this the day Eve was baptized?” She pointed to a date in the lower corner. “2nd April, 1848.”
Nora nodded, but she wasn’t looking at the baby. “It was also the day Rowan disappeared.”
“How do you know?” Bri asked.
“I just know.” Nora indicated Rowan’s image. “She’s wearing the dress I saw her in.”
Sheila pressed her hands to her chest. “If that’s true, to have such joy and such tragedy all on the same day.”
Quinn pointed to another object lying beside the framed Daguerrotype. “What’s that?”
Nora held up the length of scarlet ribbon. “She’s gone. Eve found the answers she needed. She won’t be back.” She looked around, certain of her conviction.
Fiona tipped the lantern. “I never saw her far from this. Somehow, this was part of it. Part of the magic that allowed her to live so long.”
She wrapped an arm around Nora’s waist. “She left these for you.”
“I don’t understand,” Nora said.
“Understand what?” Fiona asked.
“The prophecy or whatever you want to call it. That Eve made to you and my grandmother all those years ago. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh, I think it does. You chose to help them and almost lost your life in the process.”
“But wasn’t there a part about giving life to another?”
Fiona nodded at the framed image. “Think about it. Three souls, unable to move on. You helped them find peace. It’s kind of a way of giving them eternal life now, isn’t it?”
Nora thought about the cottage, about how consumed she’d been for months, living with Móirín and Rowan—not just in her physical space, but in her head—and wondered if they would move on. “I’m not so sure.”
“I think the unknown was more heartbreaking to them than anything,” Fiona said thoughtfully. “People were dying all around them, but Rowan couldn’t tell her parents what happened to her. Móirín and Donall never knew what happened to their little girl. And Eve never knew why her family had been so cruelly torn apart.”
“And you really think Eve was Aoibheann?” Quinn asked dubiously.
Fiona sighed. “There are things we’ll never fully understand.”
Sheila asked Quinn to gather up the books while she opened some of the jars sitting on the shelves, checking to see what they contained and packing a few of them.
Nora opened the glass door of the lantern and extracted the candle inside, wiggling it loose from the mounds of wax holding it in place.
“There’s one more thing we need to do. Today.” She looked at Fiona. “While you’re still here with us.”
“You sure we should be doing this ourselves?” Quinn asked. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we get the priest?”
They all stood in the cemetery at St. Mary’s, gathered round Móirín’s grave. It had taken some time to locate it, as it was one of the headstones whose limestone was so pitted as to make it almost impossible to read.
“Since when are you all worried about rules and protocol?” Sheila asked. “And what, exactly, are we going to say? ‘We were guided by a pair of ghosts and an almost two-hundred-year-old witch.’”
Fiona chuckled. “She has a point.”
Sheila handed Nora her large knife. “You should be the one to do it.”
Nora knelt down while the others stood in a semi-circle around her, blocking her from view of the church and rectory. Using the knife, she gouged out a patch of turf from the grass over Móirín’s grave and set it aside. Then she dug more deeply, scooping out s
everal handfuls of dirt.
She shook out the cloth Eve had left in her cottage. The Daguerrotype Nora was going to keep, but…
“Móirín, if you can hear us, this is the ribbon that was in Rowan’s hair, and this is the candle that kept Aoibheann grounded in this realm long enough to find out what happened.”
She wrapped the ribbon and candle up in the cloth, folding it and placing it in the hole she’d dug. “This is the closest we can come to burying them with you. Our prayer for all of you is that you will now be at peace, able to move on. Together in death as you were never able to be in life.”
She scooped dirt back into the hole, covering the cloth. Gently pressing the patch of turf back in place, she got to her feet.
Briana took her hand but had to clear her throat a couple of times before she could speak. “That was good.”
Chapter 19
Briana made it a point to get to the stables extra early every day, working non-stop until mid-afternoon so that she and Nora could spend the latter part of each day together, usually taking a ride. Without saying it out loud, she wanted Nora’s last days in Cong to be as memorable as possible.
For her part, Nora worked with Sheila at the nursery every day. From listening to her talk about her day as they meandered the fields and woods around the stables, it seemed she took comfort in the work—whether it was among the trees, in the greenhouse, or in the shop where they brewed salves and lotions and made candles.
Nora spent her nights at Bri’s place or with Sheila and Quinn. The first time Nora stayed with Briana—the day they’d buried the candle and ribbon—had been hard as they both tried to navigate this new vulnerability. Just holding each other had been as much intimacy as either of them could handle.
What Briana didn’t share with Quinn or Sheila was how many times each night Nora sprang up in bed, panting and breathless, when she woke from her nightmares. Bri had them, too, but not as bad or as frequent as Nora’s. She was secretly glad to not have to explain why she left the bathroom light on. She knew the two of them might never welcome complete darkness again—not after knowing the terror they’d been through. Even the shared memory of Rowan’s presence in that cavern couldn’t erase the horror of being trapped down there, of thinking they would both share Rowan’s fate.
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