Johannah found him out behind the rectory in a small glade where he kept five wooden hives of honeybees. The priest had on heavy gloves and a canvas hood with netting, so he didn’t hear her as he collected the honey from one of the hives. She had never seen this done and studied him for a moment or two and mused on the nature of the tiny creatures, who could give both sweet nourishment and pain. And also on the nature of a man who could be so caring to tiny creatures and so cruel to her family.
She cleared her throat. “Father?”
The priest turned to see her, moved away from the bees and took off his hood. She realized her presence shocked him. No surprise, really.
“Mrs. Donnelly?”
“Yes, Father.”
“What do you want?”
“I wanted to see you. I hoped to talk to you. About the difficulties between us. Between you and the family.”
“Difficulties!”
The quiet buzzing of the bees was almost comforting.
“I want to make amends. I want to come back to my Church. I want my sons to come and offer you apologies for any troubles they have created. Will is thinking of marriage and I would love him to be married in the church.”
“You and yours have insulted the holy Church with your violence. You have shown your wicked pride at every turn.”
“I know there must be penance and I’m willing. My boys will be willing. Silence, prayer…substantial tithes. What would satisfy you?”
“It is not me you must satisfy. It is Almighty God!”
“God, then.”
“I think it may be too late.”
“Maybe for you, but surely not for God.”
“You see, there is already arrogance in your tone.”
“I am sorry. There must be a way to forgiveness. Please, Father.”
“No. Your son will never be married in my church. Perhaps if I had seen substantial change, Johannah. But now you have let your daughter go off with a Protestant. A Protestant!”
“She has her own will. Will’s fiancée is Catholic.”
“Still you prevaricate and try to bargain with me. It is too late. I suggest your son Will should go to London city hall for his needs. Now leave me in peace.”
Johannah watched as the priest put his hood back on and turned away from her to his tiny wards. She regarded him for a moment longer. She recalled the image of the judge in Jim’s murder trial putting on the black cap just before he sentenced him to death. Then she turned her back on Father Connolly and walked away from St. Patrick’s for the last time.
Nora and Will took the advice the priest had given Johannah and got married in London at the city hall in September. At first Johannah saw it as her failure, but Nora and Will liked the modern idea. No one from Nora’s family was going to come anyway, as the Kennedy opposition to having a Donnelly in-law had not diminished. Will had himself gone to Nora’s father, mother and brothers but they could not be turned. They opposed the marriage and that was the end of it. So Will and Nora had a party of eighteen family and friends for the ceremony, his family and the regular crew of Keefes and Whalens, and a fine dinner afterwards at Stroud’s Dining Emporium near the London train station. The raw estrangement of Johannah and Jenny had not healed, so despite Will and Nora’s special invitation, Jenny and her husband did not come down from Goderich.
After the wedding, Will and Nora were blessedly on their own as they rode in their buggy back to their new house at Whalen’s Corners. Nora had started to show with their first child.
“Oh look, there’s a nice house. I wonder who lives there?” Nora said with a laugh. It was the little two-storey place she had told him about the night they decided to marry, with a picket fence around the neat front yard and small but decent stables behind that could be added to, and it was located just a few miles from the Donnelly homestead. They had bought it the week before. Nora was elegantly dressed from the wedding in an off-white lace gown with a short train and was still holding the bouquet of roses Johannah had given her. Will could not hide the pride he felt in his new wife. He was in a good, fitted pinstriped suit with a waistcoat and they had looked a fine pair.
“I think we should just move in. No one will mind, will they?” Will helped her down and they walked with arms around each other toward the front door.
“You know, this is all still a bit of a shock to me, Mrs. Donnelly. A new house, a new loving wife…”
“Oh …” she said in mock surprise. “Do I have to love you?”
“Sure there was something about that in the vows.”
“I guess I could manage. In the fullness of time.”
At the doorway, they stopped and shared a long, slow kiss. Nora took off Will’s jacket and waistcoat, then undid his tie and shirt. He began to fumble with the hooks at the back of her wedding gown. They laughed, still kissing. Nora managed to get his shirt off, then drew him half-naked into the dark house to “reaffirm the blessing,” as Nora explained, “that God bestowed on men when he created women.”
Miss Johannah, she had asked me to come up to the Donnelly homestead most every day through the summer to check to see that things was in good shape and chores done. I liked that she trusted me and sometimes liked someone to gab with. Old Jim would sit on the porch of the Donnelly farmhouse with some whiskey in his hand and stare a hole in the side of the new barn like it were about to jump. With all them things he’d seen and done in his life I wished his demons would take it easy on him.
There were one day in mid-September, Mr. Jim was out on the porch and I had just finished feeding all the cattle beasts in the corral who was destined for market. We all heared the sound of the Donnelly stage coming up the Roman Line and looked up to see Michael at the reins, calling to the horses as he did. He pulled up outside the farmhouse porch near Mr. Jim.
“We got a surprise for you, Da!”
Mr. Jim stood up slowly and came down the steps toward the stagecoach. At the sound of the horses, Johannah comes out of the house to see the doings, along with Will and Nora, who was visiting. A pretty woman of maybe thirty years steps down, her clothes was plain but clean, smiling sadly like she were a little embarrassed.
Michael did the introductions. “This is Bridget, Da. Your sister’s daughter. All the way from Tipperary.”
Mr. Jim studied her face. “Little Bridget? Theresa’s daughter? Are you really?”
“We found her at Porte’s asking about Donnellys,” Michael told us, proud of himself.
“Hello, Uncle Jimmy.”
“God help us, you sound like Theresa.”
Bridget approached Mr. Jim and gave him a warm hug. They was both delighted to see one another.
“I still have the two letters you sent to Ma. I knew if I could just get to the town of Lucan, Ontario, that I’d find you somehow.”
“And so you did. But how’s Theresa…?
Tears come then to Bridget’s bright eyes. “She’s with the angels, Uncle. Got the fever late last winter. There was no time to write. I got no one left. Been a hard life, Uncle. With the last of our money I took the ship and came to Canada. You were kind to me when I was little.”
Johannah had been looking at all this and there were no doubt it sat well with her, having another female on the place after Jenny was gone. The big hug she gave Bridget came natural to her.
“You’re a brave girl travelling so far. Come inside for some tea and get to know your family.”
“This is your new home now,” Mr. Jim told her, taking her arm and escorting her into the house as Michael brought in her two worn canvas bags. “And you’ll want for nothing.”
I smiled at how the old boy could be charming and generous when he put his mind to it. I knew he’d been missing Jenny and his niece being around would go a ways to easing that pain.
“Thank you,” she said and gave him a little kiss on his furry cheek. So this was how cousin Bridget came to live with the Donnellys. She fit in well and, though she were some older, she were as pleasant and peppery as Jenny and there’s no doubt she and Johannah, feeling a little like a mother and daughter, helped take away some of the pain of each losing people so close to them.