But, when she drew Nora back down to lie in her arms, when they held each other, there was unspoken comfort in knowing that they understood what no one else could.
All she said to Quinn was, “I want her last memories of Ireland to be happy ones.”
He looked as if he was busting to say something on the matter, but he just nodded and kept his mouth shut.
Nora hadn’t voiced any desire to go back to Sióg Cottage, and Briana hadn’t pushed. She and Sheila had decided they’d wait for Nora to indicate when she was ready.
Inexorably, the days ticked by, and they hadn’t talked about what was going to happen after Nora’s ninety days were up. Whenever Briana started thinking about the fact that she only had a few days left with Nora, her anxiety transferred to the horses, especially Lizzy, and she had to push it down, focus only on what she was doing—which was a useful exercise for hiding her nerves when she was with Nora. She wanted to sear every moment into her memory, not waste it on worry, because she knew she would never feel like this about anyone ever again.
But her favorite times were when they sat on the front stoop of her cottage as dusk fell. When the work was done for the day and everything was quiet, and the horses were settled for the night in their stalls, and all the feeding and mucking and grooming was done. This was the time she loved best—Nora sitting with her arm hooked through Bri’s, no words, just being together.
Briana was beginning to wonder if Nora would ever go back to Sióg Cottage. Surely, she’d have to pack up, but the thought of Nora packing hurt too much to think about, so she tried not to.
On the Friday of Nora’s last full weekend, she bicycled over to the stables after she and Sheila were done for the day. She found Briana just finishing rubbing down and wrapping Princess’s leg.
“Second sprain of the summer,” Briana pronounced. “I’m thinking this will be her last regular season carrying tourists.”
Princess snorted as if she understood and agreed with that plan.
Nora gave the mare a pat. “Will Quinn sell her?”
“No!” Bri’s voice was firm. “No, she’ll spend her days here. We can ride her now and again. Maybe another foal or two. She’s such a good mum.”
Briana stood, and Princess nudged her shoulder. Briana grinned and produced an apple from her pocket. She sliced it and offered half. The mare chomped it happily. Briana exited the stall, latching the door. When Princess looked at her with those dark, gentle eyes, Briana relented and gave her the other half.
Nora chuckled. “She has your number.”
“She does. And she knows it.”
Nora stepped closer and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. “You have my number, too.”
A loud clearing of the throat made them both jump. Liam was standing there, holding a grain bucket, a lopsided grin on his face.
“Go away, you git,” Briana said.
The sound of his laughter lingered as he walked away.
“I was wondering…” Nora began.
“Wondering what?”
“If you’d like to maybe do a bit of rambling this weekend. We don’t have to go as far as Kerry or anything like that,” she hastened to add.
Briana braced herself. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I promised Quinn I’d do some things here this weekend.”
“Oh. Okay. No problem.” Nora turned away, pretending to find something interesting on the chalkboard next to the telephone.
Briana washed up at the tack room sink. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”
Nora nodded, but her smile looked forced. “How about the pub and then maybe wander around the village?”
A short time later, they were in the SUV. Bri had placed a call to the pub, asking the bartender to reserve a table for them. When they arrived in the village, the tour buses were gone, but she still had to drive around before she found an empty parking space.
Briana had to laugh when Nora grumbled, “Bloody tourists.”
“I think I’m rubbing off on you, and not in a good way.”
Nora reached for her hand. “You’ve been good for me in every way.”
Briana glanced over at the wistful tone in Nora’s voice.
Inside, they ordered drinks at the bar, collecting their glasses of Guinness and going to the table the bartender pointed out.
“Thanks, Andrew.”
They settled in a dark corner and took a drink. Nora sighed and looked around.
“What was that sigh for?” Briana asked.
Nora smiled into her beer. “I was just remembering meeting you here.”
“It wasn’t our first meeting,” Briana reminded her. “I almost ran you down that morning.”
Nora chuckled. “True. Our first official meeting, then. I complained about you to Sheila after falling into the bushes that morning. She knew immediately who I was talking about.”
Briana scowled.
“That face doesn’t frighten me anymore,” Nora said with a grin.
“Damn.”
Nora leaned forward. “If that hadn’t happened, if I hadn’t almost been trampled by you and your horse… My summer wouldn’t have been the same.” Her expression sobered. “My life wouldn’t be the same.”
After dinner and a second pint, they wandered the village. Nora insisted on asking a stranger to take a photo with her cell phone of the two of them standing in front of the Celtic cross in the village center and another down by the river.
“The fight scene was here?” Briana asked.
“I think so.”
Bri shook her head. “I’m so glad that movie and your grandparents’ childhood brought you here, Nora McNeill.”
Nora took her hand. “So am I, Briana Devlin.”
Saturday morning found Nora pedaling from the stables to the nursery, muttering aloud and trying to tamp down her resentment.
“There’s no law that says Briana has to spend every minute with me,” she reminded herself. “Even if this is my last weekend here.”
A weight like a stone plummeted into her stomach. Her last weekend. As traumatic as this summer had been in many ways, it had also been the best summer of her life. The best three months of her life, period.
But still, for Briana to have made plans to work this weekend, it felt like a slap in the face. When she passed a trail that would have taken her in the direction of her cottage, she briefly considered going, but she’d given Sheila her word she wouldn’t go alone.
They hadn’t bugged her about returning, and she knew their silence on the subject had been out of deference to her and everything she’d been through. But the rest of her stuff was there. She would have to go back soon. She needed to go back. But not today.
She sniffed at the aromas drifting from Sheila’s kitchen before she even opened the door. Inside, Sheila had the table laden with two cakes, three loaves of her almond bread, and she was bent over at the oven, sliding a roasting pan with an herb-covered chicken into it.
“What’s the occasion?”
Sheila looked up. “You’re earlier than I expected. Well, it was going to be a surprise, but we’re having a céili.”
“A party? What for?” Nora tried to think if it was someone’s birthday.
Sheila shook her head. “For you, you idjit.”
Nora’s heart lifted. “For me?”
Sheila smiled. “All the cousins you’ve not had a chance to meet are coming in for the day. Gran and Granddad are coming back. They’ll be here before noon.”
She set the timer on the oven. “Help me set up some tables outside. I think we’re going to luck out with the weather today.”
The outside tables consisted of sawhorses with boards laid over top.
“So you really didn’t know?” Sheila asked. “Bri didn’t slip and say anything?”
Nora must have looked like an idjit because Sheila burst out laughing.
“I take it she didn’t.”
“She’s in on it? And she kept it from me? That’s why she said she was bus
y today.” Slowly, the pieces clunked into place. Nora felt they were all clunking her in the head.
Quinn drove up with more boards loaded in the bed of his truck to set on blocks for makeshift benches. He also had three cases of Guinness that he heaved into a wheelbarrow.
The first cars began to pull in by the time they’d finished. Sheila’s parents, Dan and Laura Muldoon, were the first to arrive, driving down from Donegal. They greeted Nora warmly.
“We so miss having Brigid and Tommy closer,” Dan said. “Wish they’d come home for a visit.”
It seemed every few minutes another car or truck rolled in, spilling out people who happily greeted one another. It turned into a kind of family reunion. Nora’s head was soon swimming, trying to remember all the names and connections. Everyone brought a dish to share or more wine or beer or soda, and the tables were soon groaning under the weight of all the food.
When Briana’s SUV joined the herd of vehicles in the nursery parking lot, Kieran jumped out ahead of Cara and Victoria. He ran to Nora, throwing his arms around her waist.
“Hi!” she said to Cara, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Briana grinned guiltily when Nora turned to her.
“So you can keep a secret,” Nora said.
“When I have to. Sheila threatened my life if I told you.”
“Good incentive.” Nora took advantage of the crowd to offer Briana one hand and Kieran the other and led them to meet everyone.
Food wasn’t the only thing people brought. Guitars, fiddles, pipes, little squeezeboxes, bodhráns—all manner of instruments began to tune up together.
Fiona and Jack showed up with an instrument case and a basket of her scones.
“You can’t have a proper céili without music,” Jack said, giving Nora a hug before tuning up his own fiddle.
Soon, an impromptu band was playing a traditional Irish jig, and kids were dancing while some of the adults jumped up, clicking their heels in such a fast staccato, they were a blur to Nora. One of Sheila’s brothers—Brendan, Nora thought his name was—grabbed her, whirling her into a dance, spinning her around so fast she got dizzy. Laughing, she tried to copy his footwork. Glancing to one side, she saw Sheila and Quinn dancing. On her other side, Cara and Victoria both had Kieran by the hands, twirling in a little threesome.
The music shifted, and the musicians began a sorrowful, haunting air. Giddy with the joy of the surprise céili and the opportunity to meet all of this extended family, Nora took Briana by the hand for a slower dance. Briana’s cheeks burned a brilliant crimson, but she reluctantly glided into the lilting rhythm.
The afternoon wore into evening. Musicians rotated through the impromptu band, and the eating continued pretty much non-stop.
Fiona had the idea of contacting Brigid and Tommy for a video chat, and it seemed the entire clan crowded into the den to talk with them. With everyone talking at once, Nora figured no one actually heard a thing, but it was so nice to have the reunion extend to her grandparents.
Late in the day, Quinn got a bonfire lit. The kids had fun poking sticks in to feed the flames. As darkness fell, everyone gathered round the fire, singing along to the music.
“Happy?” Briana asked, leaning in close to Nora’s ear.
Nora nodded, her heart too full for words.
“So I’m forgiven?”
Nora gave her a bump with her shoulder. “Maybe.”
An insistent beam of moonlight wriggled through a gap in the curtains, tickling Nora’s eyelids until she woke. It was the first time in a week she’d woken peacefully without a nightmare. Beside her, Briana breathed slowly.
Nora turned to watch her for a moment. Their lovemaking last night had been wonderful. Thinking back, it was the first time since she got out of the hospital that it had been like that, unrushed and gentle and passionate in turns, rather than desperate and frantic.
She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to rub the sleep away and then quietly got out of bed without disturbing Briana. She reached for her underwear and a T-shirt. Shannon lifted her head as Nora walked by. She scrambled to her feet and followed Nora outside to sit on the stoop. Shannon leaned against her, and Nora draped an arm over her warm body.
Her body and mind—and her heart—were still humming with happiness from the unexpected gathering over the weekend. With Cara, Kieran, and Victoria in Cong and staying with Briana, Nora had spent Saturday night at Sheila’s, which was nice, as it had given her more time to visit with Fiona and Jack.
Fiona had asked to see what Nora had found in Eve’s books.
“Most of them are just classics,” Nora said. “Jane Eyre, The Secret Garden, Great Expectations, Anne of Green Gables. All stories about orphans. Except for two. One was her book of recipes for salves and healing potions. And this one.”
She opened the oldest book, the one Eve had read from the first time Nora had gone to see her.
“It was Móirín’s. I’d hoped it was a diary, but it’s more a ledger.” She leafed through it, showing Fiona. “See? She has a page of important dates: her marriage, the birth of each child. But she also recorded each seamstress job she had, what she made and how much she got paid. Repairs she and Donall did to the cottage. But then…”
She flipped to the last page with any writing and read, “30 April, nothing. I fear my chailín is gone forever.”
Fiona blinked rapidly with her hand over her mouth. “That was her last entry.” She took Nora’s hand in hers. “I’m so glad you brought peace to them.”
Nora still wasn’t certain she had, but she didn’t say anything.
Come Sunday night, when Fiona and Jack and everyone else had gone back home and life in Cong settled back into its normal, slow rhythm, here with Briana was where she’d wanted to be.
It was funny, she mused as she rubbed Shannon’s wiry fur, it wasn’t until she had the contrast of this weekend that she realized how a part of her had remained trapped in that underground cavern, caught up in the misery and desolation of the ghosts of the past. It had felt for a while as if she’d never be happy again. She’d been holding to Briana like a life preserver, using her to keep her head above all the things that threatened to pull her under, into a place every bit as dark as that cavern had been.
But now… She looked up at the stars and took a deep breath. Part of her inability to decide about moving to Ireland had been questioning and wondering how much of that desire was tied to her relationship with Briana. But after the weekend, she knew.
She loved Briana—more deeply, more completely than she’d ever loved Amy. But if Briana didn’t feel the same, if she walked out of Nora’s life tomorrow, Ireland and Cong were still where her heart belonged. She knew that now.
Thinking back to how many times in her life she’d felt out of place, and how, listening to Mamma and Pop’s stories of growing up here, she’d always had that unsettled feeling, kind of like she already knew this place, knew it from long ago. It all made sense now. Her roots were truly here, on both sides of her family.
She was ready. Ready to go back to Sióg Cottage. Ready to talk to Briana. Ready to tell her family her decision. Ready to live her life.
Giving Shannon a squeeze, she said, “Let’s go back to bed.”
Briana woke to an empty bed and the enticing aromas of coffee and bacon. She smiled and stretched. I could get used to this.
The smile faded. There was no time to get used to anything. She and Nora only had a few more days together. Unless Bri decided to follow her back to America.
“You should go,” Cara had urged her over the weekend. “Get out of Ireland. Live a little.”
The two of them had been huddled together in the kitchen when they got back here after the céili.
“What are you talking about in there?” Victoria, ever able to sniff out trouble, had asked.
“Nothing,” Briana and Cara had said in unison, giggling like they used to when they were little.
It was odd. She and her sister hadn’
t been close for a long time, not since Briana had left home to try and break into racing and felt Cara had judged her choice then as foolish. It wasn’t until Bri was on the cusp of leaving Ireland altogether that they’d come to understand each other. When Kieran climbed into her lap and snuggled against her, she’d nearly come undone. The thought of not being around as he grew up was almost more than she could bear.
The prospect of leaving everything she loved—the horses, the stables, Sheila and Quinn, Liam and Jimmie and Sonya, Ashford and the woods and trails she’d come to know as home—it all tore her apart. But if being with Nora meant going to America, then that was how it needed to be.
Impatiently, she brushed aside a tear that leaked out of her eye. She climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom.
When she got to the kitchen a few minutes later, Nora had a cup of coffee waiting for her.
“Good morning,” Nora said with a kiss.
“Morning. This smells so good.”
Nora plated eggs and bacon and toast for the two of them. She had also scrambled an extra egg for Shannon.
“She’s going to be spoiled,” Briana said, watching Shannon gobble the egg and lick her bowl. She prodded her eggs, wondering how to bring up everything. How the hell did you say to someone, “Guess what? I’ve decided to move to America with you”? What if Nora didn’t want her there? She had a whole life to go back to. No matter how much she thought her family hadn’t really missed her, Briana suspected they had. More than Nora knew.
“Everything taste okay?” Nora asked.
“Yeah. It’s brilliant. Thanks for cooking.”
Nora eyed Briana surreptitiously from under her lashes. “I was thinking… I need to go back to my cottage soon. I promised Sheila I wouldn’t go alone. If you can get off work a little early today or tomorrow…”
“Yeah.” Briana paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Today. I’ll come and pick you up at the nursery, say four o’clock?”
“Sounds good.”
Nora did a last update of the nursery website. She’d be able to work on it remotely once she was back in the States—one of the wonderful things about the internet. But it wouldn’t be the same as being here.
A Bittersweet Garden Page 27
