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As summer drifted into fall, Daniel became a habitual guest at the dairy farm, arriving at least twice a week in time for dinner with the Griffith family. Evelyn was more than happy to accommodate him. A pragmatist at heart, she didn’t understand the long engagement he’d undertaken. In this part of the country, courtship was normally a matter of weeks, not months, still less close to a year. She longed to tease him, but had decided to save Annie embarrassment. So she centered the conversation around her need for a longer kitchen table, expecting her brother to volunteer to make one for her. She wasn’t disappointed.
“I knew you would,” she told him.
Daniel gave a gruff laugh, then asked, “Did you hear about Frank and Geordie?”
Evelyn stared at him. “What now?”
There was a sly look around her brother’s eyes and an undercurrent of laughter in his voice, and she was always ready for the antics of the younger twins.
“They’ve been courting Patricia Flaherty since the spring.”
“Both of them? Really?” Evelyn started to giggle.
“Really. Told her they wouldn’t fight over her, and she could make up her mind between the two of them.”
Annie gaped at him. “Are you serious?”
“How do you know?” Owen asked.
“Seamus told Tommy,” Daniel answered. “They haven’t spoken to Mother and Dad yet.”
“What’s your mother going to say?” Lowell asked his wife with a huge grin, causing Evelyn to go off into gales of laughter.
As they all joined her, Evelyn wondered how Seamus’s daughter could have captured the hearts of both her brothers. The quiet, sensible Geordie. The garrulous, excitable Frank. Two men who looked so much alike that, in Brian’s words, “the only way t’ tell ’em apart’s t’ put ’em close t’gether an’ see who twitches first.” Two such different men, each enamored of a silly, flighty girl with a pretty face and a heart of gold.
“I wonder which one she’ll pick,” Annie said, when their gaiety had subsided.
“What if she doesn’t pick either one?” Lowell asked.
“I’m sure she will.”
“Which, then?” Evelyn demanded.
Annie raised an eyebrow but wouldn’t answer.
***
SATURDAY NIGHT BROUGHT the last dance of the season to the Town Hall. Daniel wore gabardine pants, a shirt of white lawn his grandmother had made for him shortly before she died, and black leather shoes he’d borrowed from Adam. He met Annie at her father’s cottage. Freed from its braid for this occasion, her flaxen hair hung long and loose, and her dress of blue moiré made her eyes seem more green than ever. Overwhelmed by her beauty, he deemed himself the luckiest of men.
She was light as a fairy in his arms as they waltzed across the floor. He shared her dances with his family and hers, then relented and let Tommy take her around the floor, while he joined Adam and Jesse on the chairs ringing the room. Jesse teased him, asking him how long he was going to make Annie wait to get married. He laughed with her, rejoicing that the girl who could scarcely look at him when they first met was now so self-assured.
When John Patrick claimed Jesse’s hand for a waltz, Daniel glanced around and saw Alec Twelve Trees standing alone near the refreshment table. He seemed to be in a trance. Following his gaze, Daniel found his sister Irene at the end of it. She was dancing with Michael Flaherty, smiling vivaciously up at him, and Michael looked as if he held the world in his hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Daniel couldn’t blame the boy. Or Alec.
When she’d graduated to beauty, he didn’t know, but the fact that Irene had was inescapable. Her thick black hair was gathered into a topknot, tendrils of it framing her face, curling on her neck. She was tall and slender, graceful as a swan, her skin white and luminous as a magnolia flower. Her dress of ice blue sateen made her dark eyes shine with an ethereal light.
The band paused and Alec approached her, but as the music started, she was whisked away in Michael’s arms once again. Daniel watched Alec’s expression grow dark and bitter. The silversmith and Irene had long been friends, and Irene had often said he was the best friend she had. And now it seemed that friendship was less than he wanted.
When Daniel looked back again, Alec was gone, and Irene was dancing with Adam, pouting up at him, anger flashing from her deep blue eyes. He was glad his brother had intervened. Irene was, after all, just seventeen, and the old cats were ripe for some new gossip about the family. Adam had foiled their last attempt by marrying Jesse. And clearly intended to foil them again.
As the evening was ending, Daniel took Annie’s hand for the last dance and a smile began to form beneath his mustache.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Look at Patricia.”
“Where?” Annie found the girl even as she spoke. Patricia’s nut-brown hair was worn in ringlets, and her cheeks were bright red. She was whispering into her mother’s ear; both faces wet with tears that were obviously joyful.
“Oh, Daniel,” Annie whispered, “do you think...?”
“It’s just a matter of which one.”
“Who do you think it will be?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“I think we’re about to find out.”
Seamus Flaherty had stopped the band and was hopping around on the dais.
“If ye please, if ye please!” the little man cried out, “I’ll have an announcement t’ make. Me daughter Patricia has consented t’ be the wife...”
Here it became apparent Seamus lacked some pertinent knowledge. He squinted at his wife, who mouthed a name, but he was more than a bit tipsy and didn’t understand. The hall began to buzz with merriment.
“Me daughter... me daughter has consented t’ be ...” The crowd was roaring with laughter as Seamus gave it one last shot.
“Me daughter has consented t’ be... Mrs. Donovan!” he finished in triumph. “Mrs. Donovan!”
“Hurrah!” Brian shouted. “Now tell us which one!”
“It’s you!” cried Adam. “You’re on the hook!”
“Oh, no, not me! Aw, I’m sorry, Miss Patricia. I didn’t mean no offense. But it’s one o’ these here boys you want, ain’t it?” Brian grabbed a twin with each hand and held them by their collars. “You jus’ tell me which one, an’ I’ll take ’im t’ the preacher right now!”
“It’s Frank!” Patricia went unerringly to her fiance. “You let him go! We’re going to have a big church wedding. And everyone’s invited!”
Geordie was released and Frank was the victim of Brian’s bear hug. Then the big man planted a hearty kiss upon Patricia’s cheek, as the Donovans swarmed round. After offering congratulations, Adam and Daniel conferred with Geordie.
Daniel borrowed the band’s fiddle, Geordie pulled his harmonica out, and Adam’s sweet tenor rang through the hall. The crowd moved aside to give Frank room to dance with his betrothed as his brother sang:
Believe me if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms
Like fairy gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
What Frank whispered in her ear, no one knew, but by the end of the dance, Patricia was crying again. Her mother wrapped her arms around her and cried, too, but when his two younger daughters also started to bawl, Seamus had enough. He leaped again onto the stage. Hardly a singer of great repute, he began in a reedy baritone. Daniel took up the tune with the fiddle, Geordie’s harmonica rang out once more, and Seamus sang out for all the company to hear that “None can love like an Irishman!”
The verses got more bawdy as the song went along. They belittled the prowess of the French, the Spanish, the Russian. The Swede, the Turk, the Italian. And, of course, the English.
The London folk themselves beguile,
And think they please in capital style;
Yet let them ask as they cross the street,
Any young virgin they happen to meet,
And I know she’ll say from behind her fan,
That there’s none can love like an Irishman!
Before the revelers departed, Molly spoke to Moira Flaherty about the wedding plans, and offered the use of her house or yard for the celebration.
“Oh, Molly, could we? Seamus planted our whole front garden with corn this year—he said he’d need the extra money for her trousseau. We were going to ask if we could use this building, but it seems so impersonal. It would be perfect to have it at the ranch.
“And you won't have to do a lick of work, I promise. I’ll do everything myself, from polishing to cooking. I’d be so grateful to you!”
Molly shook her head. “Many hands make short work. We’ll all pitch in. What else are families for?”
“Families... I’ve had none but Seamus since we left the old country. The children don’t remember—no doubt they think it silly to pine.”
Molly smiled to herself. If her children thought her silly, she’d never know it. Their father had taught them the importance of family—even Conor had learned the lesson and corresponded regularly from the ship he captained on the high seas, posting a letter every time he returned to his country from abroad.
As for Frank, I could not have asked for a better man. Nor could Patricia. For he is like his father in all that is important. And if he jumps around a bit too much and rarely sits in one place for long, at least he is now settled in his heart.
Moira Flaherty was thinking of her daughter. Her flighty, willful, spoiled daughter whose hands fluttered constantly with nervousness and whose unending chatter could drive her to distraction. At one time, she’d hoped to have the calm Geordie as her son-in-law, but she’d come to realize his nature was too serene for Patricia.
“I wonder what they’ll need?” Molly mused.
“T’won't be furniture. Never sit still long enough to use it!”
Molly laughed. They looked at one another, thinking of an empty house, and Moira began to giggle. “I wonder if they’ll need a bed?”
Molly was scandalized, but laughed just the same.