little about electricity bills.
“Let me cover your eyes,” he said before they came to the turn that would bring the castle into view.
She laughed and fussed, but let him have his way, and he led her to a vantage point.
“There, now,” Liam said, then took his hands down.
“There are lights on the castle! And in it, too,” she cried.
Liam nodded. “An American couple bought it and have been renovating for several years. It’s nearly done from what Tadgh tells me. He’s been fixing the stonework.”
“I’d like to tour it one day,” she said.
As would he, for not only had he broken his nose inside those stout walls, it was also there that he’d first made love to Vi Kilbride.
“How long are you in Duncarraig?” he asked.
“As long as it takes.”
“To empty your nan’s house?”
She nodded.
“You know I’ll not be able to stay away,” he said, taking her into the circle of his arms.
“Ah, but I was the one who always followed you.”
“Not this time.” He kissed her once because he had to, then again for another of her stars in the sky. And after that he let her be. Tonight had made even clearer what he already knew: He could not have her in his bed, then tell her later about his search for Rafferty’s gold. She deserved better from him this time, for he’d failed her horribly in the forthrightness department their last.
“Shall we go back?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the path they’d taken.
“We will,” she answered, and for the first time that night, Liam knew peace.
It was nearly ten-thirty by the time Vi was on the road to Kilkenny. She knew her parents would be worried and she regretted that she’d not called them from Duncarraig before leaving. Jenna and her Ballymuir family were right—soon she’d have to leave the dark ages and get herself a cell phone. The thought chafed.
“I’d rather walk around wearing your leash,” she said to Roger.
And after washing up the Raffertys’ dishes this evening, she’d pay a fat stack of euros to see Una in a muzzle. Liam’s mother had actually had the nerve to warn her off Liam, as though she, Vi Kilbride, were the round-heeled town tart out to sully the Rafferty name.
Vi shook her head at the absurdity of Una’s claims. So she’d broken Liam’s heart? His mother had the wrong end of that particular beast. If there had been a broken heart fifteen years ago, it had been Vi’s. It had healed, but not with the speed of Liam’s, assuming he’d even suffered as his mother had claimed.
A daughter of twelve meant he’d loved another woman two years after they’d parted. Brave man. Vi had been living in a tourist caravan on Inch beach, hoping for the money to eat and the courage to paint. Men had been anathema.
“Broken heart, indeed,” she said.
Roger, who had fallen asleep on the seat next to her, snorted a wee bit.
Kilkenny appeared soon enough. She turned off onto her parents’ road and found a parking space a mere block from her former home. Mam and Da’s attached house was identical to every other house in the row. Tiny patch of grass, over-pruned shrubs, four steps to the stoop, and drab tan brick. In the dark, it was a neat trick indeed to find the proper front door.
Years ago, when she’d been a teen and her elder brother Michael implicated in the Troubles in the north, she’d filched a bottle of her mam’s horrible Chablis and tried to drink herself numb behind the butcher’s shop. Numbness had never arrived. All she’d succeeded in doing was staggering into the wrong damn house.
Luckily, she had Roger to sniff his way home tonight. She stopped to let him have a pee or ten before going into the house. He was male through and through, marking what was his every time he walked by. God forbid if a stray cat or cheeky neighbor dog had eradicated his scent.
A bluish light glowed from her parents’ front room, letting her know that Da was still awake and at his sentinel post by
“Let me cover your eyes,” he said before they came to the turn that would bring the castle into view.
She laughed and fussed, but let him have his way, and he led her to a vantage point.
“There, now,” Liam said, then took his hands down.
“There are lights on the castle! And in it, too,” she cried.
Liam nodded. “An American couple bought it and have been renovating for several years. It’s nearly done from what Tadgh tells me. He’s been fixing the stonework.”
“I’d like to tour it one day,” she said.
As would he, for not only had he broken his nose inside those stout walls, it was also there that he’d first made love to Vi Kilbride.
“How long are you in Duncarraig?” he asked.
“As long as it takes.”
“To empty your nan’s house?”
She nodded.
“You know I’ll not be able to stay away,” he said, taking her into the circle of his arms.
“Ah, but I was the one who always followed you.”
“Not this time.” He kissed her once because he had to, then again for another of her stars in the sky. And after that he let her be. Tonight had made even clearer what he already knew: He could not have her in his bed, then tell her later about his search for Rafferty’s gold. She deserved better from him this time, for he’d failed her horribly in the forthrightness department their last.
“Shall we go back?” he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the path they’d taken.
“We will,” she answered, and for the first time that night, Liam knew peace.
It was nearly ten-thirty by the time Vi was on the road to Kilkenny. She knew her parents would be worried and she regretted that she’d not called them from Duncarraig before leaving. Jenna and her Ballymuir family were right—soon she’d have to leave the dark ages and get herself a cell phone. The thought chafed.
“I’d rather walk around wearing your leash,” she said to Roger.
And after washing up the Raffertys’ dishes this evening, she’d pay a fat stack of euros to see Una in a muzzle. Liam’s mother had actually had the nerve to warn her off Liam, as though she, Vi Kilbride, were the round-heeled town tart out to sully the Rafferty name.
Vi shook her head at the absurdity of Una’s claims. So she’d broken Liam’s heart? His mother had the wrong end of that particular beast. If there had been a broken heart fifteen years ago, it had been Vi’s. It had healed, but not with the speed of Liam’s, assuming he’d even suffered as his mother had claimed.
A daughter of twelve meant he’d loved another woman two years after they’d parted. Brave man. Vi had been living in a tourist caravan on Inch beach, hoping for the money to eat and the courage to paint. Men had been anathema.
“Broken heart, indeed,” she said.
Roger, who had fallen asleep on the seat next to her, snorted a wee bit.
Kilkenny appeared soon enough. She turned off onto her parents’ road and found a parking space a mere block from her former home. Mam and Da’s attached house was identical to every other house in the row. Tiny patch of grass, over-pruned shrubs, four steps to the stoop, and drab tan brick. In the dark, it was a neat trick indeed to find the proper front door.
Years ago, when she’d been a teen and her elder brother Michael implicated in the Troubles in the north, she’d filched a bottle of her mam’s horrible Chablis and tried to drink herself numb behind the butcher’s shop. Numbness had never arrived. All she’d succeeded in doing was staggering into the wrong damn house.
Luckily, she had Roger to sniff his way home tonight. She stopped to let him have a pee or ten before going into the house. He was male through and through, marking what was his every time he walked by. God forbid if a stray cat or cheeky neighbor dog had eradicated his scent.
A bluish light glowed from her parents’ front room, letting her know that Da was still awake and at his sentinel post by
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