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.
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 busy 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 ping on the computer distracted her. The little chat bubble said it was her sister. She clicked on it.
Mary Fran’s face filled the screen, looking so much like a younger version of their mother that it startled Nora for a minute.
“Can’t believe I caught you online.” Mary Fran said. “How’s the great adventure been?”
“It’s been good.”
“Just good?” Mary Fran frowned. “Are you hurt from your accident?”
Nora realized it had become habit to be cautious and non-committal with her responses to her sister. She took a deep breath. “It’s been wonderful.”
Mary Fran shook her head. “God, I admire you so much.”
Nora goggled at her, certain there had been some glitch in their connection. “Sorry?”
“I said I admire you.”
“For what?” Nora was still sure there had been a disconnect somewhere.
“For doing this,” Mary Fran said. “For getting away. For living your life the way you want. I’ve always admired you.”
“No, you haven’t.” Nora’s disbelief was reflected in the small image of herself in the upper corner of the screen. She closed her mouth. “You were the most popular girl in school. You were friends with everyone. I had, what? Two friends? You’re an artist. You’ve got two beautiful kids and a great husband. You’ve accomplished all kinds of things. I’ve accomplished nothing.”
Mary Fran leaned forward, her image enlarged so that Nora instinctively drew back.
“Are you kidding? You are the bravest person I know.”
At Nora’s dubious expression, Mary Fran burst out laughing. “You climbed to the top of the Kennedy’s tree next door.”
“Only because you dared me. And I broke my arm when I fell climbing down.”
A shadow darkened Mary Fran’s expression. “But I never left the ground.”
Nora didn’t know what to say. “I’m just a librarian.”
Mary Fran smiled. “My kids think librarians are superheroes. And you especially, because you’re a librarian at a university.” When Nora didn’t respond, she added, “You have always known what you wanted to do, no matter what anyone else said. I always worried about what other people thought. You went to grad school, got your master’s, built the career you wanted. And look at you now. You’re in Ireland, doing what you’ve always dreamed of doing. I think it’s great.”
She sat back. “You really don’t see it, do you? I’m sorry I never said this before.”
“Thank you for saying it now.”
A few minutes later, when Nora walked out to the pergola, Sheila did a double take at Nora’s dazed expression.
“Everything all right?”
Numbly, Nora nodded. “You know those movies or books where someone misses a train and some alternate reality plays out, where their life goes in a whole different direction? I think I’m experiencing one of those moments.”
At Sheila’s confused expression, Nora said, “Just had a weird talk with my older sister. Turns out she admires me.”
Sheila shook her head. “Told you so.”
Nora set about helping Sheila repot and label a new delivery of plants as part of a colorful autumn display.
“Still a bit distracted, are we?”
“Hmmm?” Nora blinked up at Sheila, who pointed at the pots in front her.
“You’re putting the wrong labels on those. The pink ones are alstroemeria, the white ones are anemones.”
“Sorry.” Nora plucked the small tags out of the plants and reversed them.
“Thinking about your sister?”
Feeling Sheila’s probing gaze, Nora gave up. She’d learned better than to pretend around her cousin.
“I’m going to the cottage this afternoon,” she said casually. “With Bri.”
Sheila nodded. “That’s good. It’s probably time.”
“Yeah. I mean, I have to pack up, don’t I?” Nora heard the tremor in her own voice. “And I’m going to tell her I’m moving to Ireland.”
“You’re—” Sheila dropped her trowel and pulled Nora into a hard hug. “Are you really?”
Nora held her and released the breath she’d been holding. “You’re okay with it?”
Sheila released her from the hug but held her at arm’s length. “Why wouldn’t I be? I think it’s brilliant. And does it matter, if you’ve truly made up your mind?”
Nora grinned like a fool. “No, it doesn’t matter, and it won’t change my mind. I’d just feel better if I knew you’re okay.”
“Of course I am!” Sheila hooked her arm through Nora’s. “You know this calls for tea and biscuits.”
Nora laughed. “I was hoping for tea and biscuits.”
They marched to the kitchen, where Nora put the kettle on and Sheila laid out a plate of her ginger biscuits.
“You make the tea,” Sheila commanded when a car drove up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Rusty sat in between the stove and the table, making sure Nora saw him as she set about getting mugs and tea bags.
“All right, one cookie,” she said sternly, breaking one cookie and giving him part while she popped the rest into her mouth.
It seemed half of her good memories of Ireland were connected to this kitchen and the talks—the craic—that had been shared here. Sheila was back soon, dropping into a chair, her elbows on the table, her blue eyes focused on Nora.
“So, tell me.”
“It was the céili,” Nora said. “And what I now know about my ancestry, and… everything. I just know this is where I belong.”
“No doubts?” Sheila reached for a biscuit.
Nora shook her head. “No doubts.”
“And you’re going to tell Briana today? Because I’m not sure how long I can keep this quiet.”
“This afternoon.” Nora couldn’t help a small frown.
“What?”
“One of the things I had to figure out, was would I still want to move here if Briana doesn’t feel the same way about me. If she doesn’t want to be together, in that way.”
“And?”
Nora smiled as Sheila handed Rusty another cookie. “I would. With or without Bri in my life.”
Sheila grinned broadly. “But you’d rather have her in it.”
Nora nodded, grinning back.
“Then I guess you figured out that puzzle.”
“Most of it.” Nora sighed. “I’m hoping to have the rest of my life to learn where the rest of the pieces fit.”
Sunlight glinted off the windows when Briana drove down the lane and Nora got her first glimpse of her cottage since that day. She reached for Bri’s hand.
“You okay?” Briana asked worriedly. She wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.
“How can it seem so foggy in my head and so ingrained, all at the same time? My memories are so clear, but I don’t think they’re real. At least they weren’t all mine.”
“You don’t have to go in.”
Nora took a deep breath. “Yes, I do.”
Briana followed her to the door before remembering she’d returned the extra key to Orlagh McCarthy, but Nora produced a key from her pocket.
“Sheila and Fiona locked up when they came to get my stuff.”
She turned the key and pushed the door open, but remained standing on the outside of the threshold. When nothing happened, she gave an embarrassed laugh.
“Not sure what I expected.”
But Briana felt equally reluctant to step inside. Shannon answered by pushing in between them and striding into the parlor. They followed hesitantly.
“Do you feel anything?” Briana asked.
Nora shook her head. On the desk, her journals and papers lay, undisturbed, along with her pens. Everything looked orderly. She leafed through some of the hand-written pages.
“Your book.” Briana motioned toward the stack. “Sorry I laughed at that the first night, at the pub.”
“I suppose it did sound silly,” Nora said. “Funny thing is, I have enough material now for five books. But none of it is mine.”
“Sure it is. You lived it through them. With them. Writing their story gives them new life, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does.”
They peeked into the kitchen.
“Ugh,” Nora said, opening and then closing the refrigerator very quickly. “Nothing otherworldly about that. Least they could have done is take out the trash.”
It was the first time in ages Briana had heard her joke about the other inhabitants of the house. She took that as a good sign and reached for the rubbish bin. “Let’s get it done now.”
They spent a half hour emptying out the fridge and cupboards of all the food, bagging what was still edible and tossing what was going bad.
Bri carried the bags to the car while Nora took the rubbish out back. When Briana came back in, she looked around.
“Where’s Shannon?”
“Hmmm?” Nora glanced at her from where she’d been standing outside the kitchen door, staring at the woods.
“Are you okay?” Briana asked.
“I’m fine. You can’t find Shannon?”
“No. She’s not in the parlor. She hasn’t been here with you?”
Nora shook her head, and Briana went to the front door, calling. Outside, there was no sign of her dog. Shannon never ignored her call.
“Briana,” came Nora’s voice from upstairs.
Bri sprinted up the steps, taking them two at a time, her heart in her throat. There in the front bedroom, sprawled on her side in the sunlight streaming through the window across the floorboards, Shannon reposed, her eyes closed, perfectly at peace. Only her tail thumped when they entered the room.
“I guess they really are gone,” Briana said. “Móirín and Rowan.”
“They’ve moved on,” Nora said. “At last. Just like Aoibheann.” She turned a slow circle. “It feels kind of anticlimactic. For them to just disappear without even saying good-bye.”
She reached for Briana’s hand. “After I leave…”
Briana tried to pull away, but Nora held on tightly. “I’ll have things to take care of. Back in the States.”
Why did you let this happen? You knew she was leaving. Against her will, Briana’s eyes moved up, held captive by the expression in Nora’s—the love there, the tenderness. Bri wasn’t sure her heart could take much more of this. Say it. Tell her you’ll go to America with her.
So preoccupied was she with her own thoughts that she almost didn’t hear what Nora was saying. “Wait. What did you say?”
“I said,” Nora said, smiling, “that I’ll have to sell my townhouse and all my extra stuff. It may take a little time to get my family to accept my decision, but my grandparents will help.”
“Your decision.” Now Briana’s heart galloped in her chest. She might just collapse on the floor beside Shannon if this kept up.
Nora led her to the bed. The old mattress sagged under their weight when they sat.
“Sheila and I already started the paperwork on this end for a work visa. And once I’m back, I’ll start the citizenship process. I’m not sure which will be faster. The whole business might take six months before I could get back here.”
Briana stared at her. Was this for real, or was Nora just having her on? Bri leaned over, her elbow on her knee. “Sweet Jesus, I think I’m going to pass out.”
Nora let go of her hand. “Is that… Do you not want me to move here? I mean, I’m still going to, but it doesn’t mean you’re chained to me or—”
Briana sat up and silenced her with a kiss. “You silly Yank,” she murmured when she could talk. “Of course I want you here. I was ready to move to America to be with you.”
“You—” Nora drew away enough to look into Briana’s eyes. “You would have done that? Really?”
Briana gave a non-committal sideways nod. “If I had to.”
Nora laughed and pulled Briana into an embrace. For long minutes, they sat like that, Bri’s head resting against Nora’s chest.
“Do chroí, mo chroí.”
“Your heart, my heart,” Nora translated, kissing the top of Briana’s head. “Do you think I can talk James McCarthy into selling me this cottage?”
Briana peered into Nora’s face to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t. Bri lifted one shoulder. “Only if you don’t tell him the ghosts are gone. If he knows that, he’ll charge you an arm and a leg for this place.”
Nora chuckled. “We could tell Orlagh. She’d love to be rid of this cottage.”
“That she would.” Briana held her breath. “Are you sure?”
“Well, this is kind of my home place. Just like White O’Morn was Sean’s.”
“No, I meant about… It’s a big step, leaving everything you know.”
“It is, but I feel as if my whole life has been leading me here.”
Nora traced a finger along Bri’s cheek. “As I was saying,” she continued. “When I buy this place, will you move in here with me? Help me fix it up? Make it our home?”
All the panic Briana had been feeling left, just cantered away, leaving only a sense of calm. “No.”
Nora’s face fell, the playful expression in her eyes gone dull. “No,” she echoed in a strangled whisper.
“I can’t,” Briana said.
Stiffly, Nora nodded and dropped her hand. Briana got off the bed and stood in front of Nora, so that she was actually the taller.
“I could never live here with you in your place,” she said. “But I would buy it with you. So it would be our place. Our home.”
It took a minute for her words to sink in, but Nora’s face lifted, a smile once again lighting up those beautiful eyes.
“Our home. That sounds so wonderful. This cottage used to hold such love. It would be nice if it did again.”
“Are you sure?” Briana asked. “Neither of us has ever lived with anyone. We’ll probably drive each other mad.”
Nora considered, and Bri wondered if she should have planted that seed of doubt in Nora’s mind.
“I once told Sheila that I thought the heart was a bittersweet garden, filled with thorns and loneliness and heartache.” Her eyes shone with tears. “I’ve spent the summer, feeling the pain of those who died without answers, without hope.”
She looked deeply into Briana’s eyes. “I don’t want to go on living like a ghost, just skimming the surface, afraid to let myself love. I do love you. More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone.”
Briana bowed her head. “And you know I love you, but I can’t promise there won’t be thorns. I wish I could, but… I know how hard I am to love.”
Nora tipped Briana’s chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze again. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. It’s just another bar on the fence.”
Briana smiled. “Trust it.”
Nora nodded. “Trust it.”
Nora sat in the waiting area of the Dublin airport for her Aer Lingus flight, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on her book. Saying good-bye to everyone had been harder than expected, helped only by the fact that it was temporary. Orlagh McCarthy had, in fact, told her husband that if he didn’t sell that cottage to Nora and Briana, she was going for an extended visit to her sister in Sligo, leaving him to cook and clean for himself. Nora suspected her grandfather had also put a little pressure on him as they dickered on a fair price.
All of the McNeill family were planning a visit to Ireland next summer—though they didn’t yet know that Nora would in all likelihood be living here by the time they came.
“I think I should tell them that part in person.”
Fiona and Jack were more excited than anyone at the prospect of having Brigid and Tommy back home again.
“I’ll have the kettle on and biscuits baked and waiting when you get back,” Sheila had promised with a tight hug.
Briana’s family, when they got to Dublin and told them everything, had been ecstatic, especially Kieran, who was looking forward to having an extra auntie. Cara was doubly excited because Briana finally agreed to shop for an iPhone so she and Nora could FaceTime.
Briana had even promised to come to the U.S. to meet the McNeill clan and spend Christmas. “I’ve never flown anywhere,” she said nervously. “But I want to meet your family, especially your grandparents.”
The ride to the airport had been silent. Nora tried to think of something to say, but words were too hard. They parked, and Briana got Nora’s bags from the cargo hold. Nora had given Shannon a last hug, and then followed with her backpack and carry-on while Briana wheeled the larger suitcase.
“I’m not saying good-bye to you,” Nora had said before getting in the security line, ignoring the few stares they got as she kissed Briana one last time. “I’ll see you soon.”
She’d looked back until she was shepherded through the security gate and lost sight of Briana. Fighting the urge to run back to her, Nora got through security and customs.
After a three hour wait, Nora was roused from her thoughts by the uniformed woman at the gate announcing boarding for her flight. She queued up and shuffled along with the other passengers. After wrestling her luggage into the overhead bin, she took her window seat and buckled her seat belt.
She sat back and tried to relax as the plane slowly filled. An older couple took the two seats next to her. She closed her eyes, sending her thoughts to Briana, hoping she could feel Nora’s love. Eventually, the plane backed up and taxied to their runway. When the pitch of the jet engines changed and the airliner took off, she opened her eyes. With her forehead pressed to the glass, she watched the earth drop away, first the airport buildings and then the houses and the highways and then the fields and smaller roads—all becoming smaller and smaller.
The view from the air this time was glorious—the sun sparkled on the rivers and loughs as the jet made its way west. She tried to identify which lough was which, to try and locate Cong. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see it. Her heart was there and always had been. She sat back with a smile.
“Heading home?” asked the man next to her.
Nora shook her head. “Leaving home. But I’ll be back.”
THE END