Chapter 63

Moira’s pulse raced and a fresh spate of tears sprang to her eyes as she took in the sight of Sean standing in front of the halla, hand extended to her. A deeper sense of love for him welled within her, and she ran until she reached him. Her arms full of flowers from the townsfolk, she had no free hand with which to accept his. She looked around until her eyes fell upon Aoife.

As if on cue, Aoife darted over and held her arms out. “I’ll hold yer flowers for ye, Miss.”

“Thank you very much, my dear.” Moira leaned over and deposited her veritable garden into the girl’s waiting arms. After brushing the leaves from her sleeves, she laid her hand in Sean’s. “Good afternoon, Mr. McFadden.”

Sean curled his fingers around hers, and her heart fluttered at the warmth of his touch.

Leaning over, he pressed his lips ever so lightly to her fingers. “Miss Doherty, ya look a dream.” Playful mischief brightened his eyes and he nodded toward the door. “Shall we?”

Moira merely nodded, then looked back over her shoulder at the crowd. Peg stood there, tears shining in her eyes. She nodded and blew a kiss to Moira.

Moira turned back to Sean and smiled. “I believe we shall.”

He led her into the old building, and Moira’s breath caught yet again. The afternoon light poured in through the open roof, and candles lined the walls, filled the fireplace, and lined the stone mantel. Though the crowd pressed around the building, poking their faces in the windows and the doorway, the sounds of the throng faded, and Moira’s attention fixed on Sean as he walked her throughout the halla.

“Here,” he said, taking her to the far back corner, “is where Paddy McGonigle, and his father before him, would serve the ale. Next to him, here, Father O’Friel kept a close eye on his flock.” He leaned in so close his lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “When he wasn’t entertaining the crowd with his Sean Nós dances, anyway.”

Moira giggled and placed a hand on his arm. Her other hand was still safely tucked in his as he continued the grand tour of the open room. She studied his face, the strong cut of his jaw, and the slight shadow of an afternoon beard. His green eyes shone with love for this place and her people as he retold many of the same stories Moira had heard from her own mother. Standing here now, surrounded by the people she loved, Moira appreciated the tales even more. It was as though all who’d gone before were there with them, enjoying the delight of this moment.

Even a building can be redeemed. The fear and pain she’d experienced at the hand of her attacker could have left a stain on her heart and the building itself, but it had all been burned clean in the fire. It held no threat. Only the wonder of hope.

“And over here,” Sean continued, leading her to the far opposite corner. “This was Noreen O’Connell’s favorite spot, so I’ve heard. It was in this corner she would sit and chat with her friends before leaping to the floor for her dances.” He let go of her hand, as though he knew she’d want to fully experience this sacred place.

Moira could envision her mother, young and carefree, laughing and dancing the night away. She ran her hand along the wall, as though she might feel her mother’s hand through the years. What a gift Sean had given her.

“Moira Doherty?”

Moira turned at his voice.

“May I have this dance?”

From the door, musicians began to play a slow, melodic waltz. Sean bowed deeply, then rose to meet her gaze as he extended his hand.

“I’d be honored, Sean McFadden.” She curtsied and placed her hand in his once more. He pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her waist, and let the music sweep them away.

As they twirled and swayed together, Sean’s eyes never left hers until he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Moira.”

In that moment, they could have been flying and she wouldn’t have known it. Moira closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. The scent of cotton and heather was embedded in her memory as uniquely his. When the music faded, they stood together, fingers laced, holding one another for a long moment until Moira finally lifted her head and gazed deep into his eyes.

“I love you too.”

He inclined his head toward hers and smoothed a tender hand over her hair. His lips hovered just a breath away from hers while his eyes traced the contours of her face. Pulling her closer still, he whispered, “Say it again.”

Moira’s breath stilled in her chest. She caressed his cheek with trembling fingers, her eyes searching his. “I love you, Sean McFadden.”

His green eyes lit up, and a smile curled on his lips. “Dance with me. Forever?”

She returned his smile and nodded.

He lowered his mouth. Softly at first, he pressed his lips to hers. When she wrapped her arms around him, he pulled his face away to look at her once more. Moira caressed his hair and pulled his face close. Their lips met again, the kiss deepening. Moira relished all that words could not convey. There in the warmth of his kiss and the tenderness of his embrace, she knew she’d found her true home.

“Yeeoo!” a voice howled in the distance. The musicians struck up a lively reel. The couple laughed and Sean whisked Moira away, hopping and spinning about the halla. Moira knew her mother had been right all along.

Pulling Sean to a stop, she planted another kiss on his mouth. “Ah, my love, there truly is nothing like a dance in Donegal.”