Papin was wearing a purple sweater and sitting on the ground by the main cook fire playing with the gypsy babies when Sarah came out of Fiona’s cottage the next morning.
She acts like nothing’s happened, Sarah thought with amazement as she trotted down the steps and walked purposefully toward her adopted daughter. One of the gypsy women saw her from over Papin’s shoulder and scooped up her toddler and ran toward the interior part of the camp where the gypsies had set up their main settlement.
Papin twisted around to see what had startled the woman and, seeing Sarah, her eyes widened in alarm. Before Sarah could reach her, Papin was on her feet, but Sarah lunged for her and grabbed her by the arm before she could move away.
“Just one minute, young lady,” Sarah said, cursing how ridiculously maternal she sounded. “I need a word with you.”
“Caitie says nothing good can come from you and me talking, Sarah,” Papin said, her face contorted into a grimace as she attempted to unhook Sarah’s fingers from her arm.
“Oh, does she?” Sarah forced herself not to shake Papin until her eyes rattled. While she didn’t let go of her, she did force her voice to remain calm. “Whatever you think you’re doing, Papin, it will not work. Whatever mad idea you’ve got for saying Mike is the father of that baby, will not work, do you hear me?”
“Well, I’m sorry, Mum,” Papin said. Sarah could see a few people had stopped their chores and were listening to them with evident fascination. She watched Papin’s eyes and it was clear she noticed them too. “I knew you were hurt about me not telling ya about the baby, but how could I tell you?” Papin said, raising her voice now. “I knew how you burned to be in Da’s bed. How could I tell you it was me he chose over you?”
“I think you’ve got your pigtails screwed in too tight, Papin, if you think for one moment that anyone believes you and Mike were lovers.”
“They all believe it!” She waved her free hand toward the camp. “Just like Caitie knew they would.”
“Why are you spending time with that woman? You’ve heard the stories we told about Caitlin before you came—”
Papin finally pulled her arm away. “Yes, I heard them and now I know they were not true.”
“Not true? You’ve known her all of twenty-four hours and you believe her lies over the people who love you?”
“Is this love? Really? Doesn’t feel that way to me. You don’t care who you hurt to get what you want. Not me or Da or John. I saw it in Wales…I saw it the first time I met you. You let Evvie die because she was too slow!”
Sarah gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “That is not true,” she whispered, the pain and grief of the dear woman’s death still not muted enough to bear hearing her name.
“It’s what I believe,” Papin said, tears streaming down her face. “I believe every thing bad that’s happened to us is because you needed to do things your way no matter who got hurt. Ask Da if it’s not true!”
“Papin…” Sarah reached out for her again.
“Don’t touch me!” Papin said, jerking her arm and taking two steps away. “I’m sick of people saying they love me only for what they can get out of me. Fact is I hate you, Sarah!”
“Papin!”
The girl turned and ran from the camp center, pushing past the group of people who had gathered to hear the argument. Sarah stood helplessly, watching Papin go, then turned her back on the gawkers and walked back to Fiona’s cottage.
It wasn’t until she was back inside Fiona’s living room Sarah realized she hadn’t told Papin they were staying.
***
Gavin saw her coming down the path from the corner of his eye. It was hard not to see her, wearing that outlandish purple jumper—in all this heat? He gave his fishing pole a shake hoping the bait would look a little more alive to whatever fish was eyeing it below the surface of the pasture pond. Da said he was crazy to think he’d pull anything out of it and he was determined to prove him wrong.
Da. Gavin hadn’t been there yesterday when the whole ruckus went down but he’d seen the aftermath, with Brian’s blokes dragging Da out the front gate. At first he thought they were just playing around. It didn’t seem possible—not in any universe he could imagine—that they were actually throwing him out.
How could that be? The fecking place was called Donovan’s Lot!
Or at least it used to be.
Gavin watched Papin pick her way gingerly down the path to where he stood at the pond’s edge. “Oy, Papin,” he said. “I can’t have a lot of chatter, mind, or I’ll never catch anything.”
“I’ll be quiet,” she said, sitting in slump at his feet and knocking over his canteen.
“Something the matter?”
She looked up at him and he could see she’d been crying. Aw, I don’t want to deal with crying. He jerked his pole and tried to concentrate on how the line pierced the placid surface of the water.
“Are you serious, Gavin?” she asked. “Were you not there yesterday? Did you really not hear?”
“Oh. You mean yesterday.”
“Aye, where I announced to the world that Da was the father of me baby?” She looked out over the water.
There was a moment and then Gavin spoke. “So, that’s not the truth of it, then?”
She snorted and looked down at her hands. “What do you think?” she said quietly.
“Then who?”
Papin acted as if she hadn’t heard him and Gavin watched her straighten out her legs and pull at the grass to sprinkle it onto her legs. Just when he gave up and turned his attention back to the fishing line in the water, she cleared her throat.
“You remember Ollie?”
Holy shite. “It was Ollie who got you up the spout?”
She nodded.
“And that was the reason he was fighting with Eeny.”
“Just say it, Gav,” Papin said jumping to her feet. “It was me that got Eeny killed. I know it! You don’t think I don’t know it?”
He stumbled back a step, surprised at her outburst. “Hey, settle down, Papin. You’re scaring the fish.”
She hugged herself and turned her back on him.
“So why’d you say it was Da?” Gavin asked. “So people wouldn’t know you were the reason Ollie killed Eeny?”
She turned to look at him like she would burst into tears any moment. He didn’t know why she was so upset but he knew it was probably something he said.
“I’m sorry, Papin,” he said. “I always say the wrong thing. You should talk to Auntie Fi or someone. I’m a right berk when it comes to talking to girls.”
She shook her head and sank back to the ground. “No,” she said. “No, you’re not a berk, Gav. You tell the truth and there’s few girls don’t like to be dealt with straight.”
“So was it because of Eeny you blamed it on Da?” He frowned because he was working hard on trying to figure out how blaming Da for it would help anything.
“No. It was because I was mad at Da. And Mum.” She ripped more grass with her hand and flung it back to the ground. “And someone told me it would help.”
“Mad because of you having to leave and go to America?”
“Yes. And for the two of them breaking up in the first place. But now that I’ve slept on it, I don’t think it was such a good idea.” She looked up at him and he thought her face looked like that of a little girl. “Can you forgive me, Gavin?”
“Forgive you? Cor, I’m just glad you didn’t pin it on me!”
She smiled ruefully and that made him glad. He seemed to be cheering her up some. She had such pretty brown eyes. Almond-shaped, like most gypsies.
“And I’ll miss you, Papin,” he said, reeling in his line to cast again. “You and John both. Heaps.”
“Well that’s one good thing out of all this anyway,” she said with a sigh. “We’ll not be leaving after all.”
“You won’t?”
She stood up and shook the grass from her clothes. “No. And it’s Caitie who helped me see how to do that.” She put a hand on her still-flat stomach. “Now that I’m going to be a mother meself, I need to start figuring out solutions to my problems. That’s what Caitie says.”
“Well, she’s probably right about that at least.”
“Have you seen Da since…you know, yesterday?”
Gavin shook his head. “Camp’s in lockdown. Nobody allowed to leave right now. I’m sure he’s fine. Besides,” he laughed, “he’ll need time to work off that temper you put him in!”
He watched her face crinkle up into a smile and she laughed, too. “Oy, you shoulda seen how mad he was! If he coulda reached me, I know he’d a killed me!”
“You’re likely right about that.”
“You think he’ll forgive me?”
“You know Da.”
“Yeah. I do.” She stood on tiptoes and gave Gavin a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sorry if I buggered the fishing,” she said. “And thanks for the talk, Gav. You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. I feel tons better.”
“Glad I could help. You heading back?”
She turned and started back up the footpath to the main camp and he noticed she walked with more energy than when she’d come.
“Aye,” she said, patting the pockets of her pants as if trying to confirm she still had something. “But first I have to pay a little visit to Auntie Fi.”
***
Caitlin thumped the bowl of soup down in front of her father. The old git must imagine she was Ellen to be thinking she’d wait on him hand and foot like this. Brian leaned over the table to give her a chaste kiss before leaving to patrol the camp with his men. She smiled and waved him off, knowing how important it was to act all sweetness and light in front of Brian—and that included the nauseatingly painful chore of acting the dutiful daughter to this old redheaded windbag. The only thing that made it bearable was the fact she also knew she wouldn’t need to do it much longer.
When she first met Brian, she could see he wanted something pure and untouched, and because all he ever did was talk about the need to find a rural community he could run, she made sure she was all that for him. She also made sure they did it at least once, and it wasn’t easy—he was that determined to keep her pure. But she needed the fake pregnancy and miscarriage to clench the deal. And stupid though he was, he wasn’t so stupid as to think she could get pregnant without doing the deed at least once.
Before they married she would sneak out of her father’s house to have it off with any wally in the local pubs who wasn’t too drunk to get it up. After they tied the knot it had become a little trickier. On top of that, it had become quickly clear that, as far as Brian and sex were concerned, a little went a long way.
“You need to move out, old man,” Caitlin said to her father as she sat down at the table with him. “Go sleep with Cedric and Colon.”
Archie Kelly looked at her with surprise. “The boys are sleeping on mats out in the fields,” he said.
“Yeah, so?”
“I can’t sleep out of doors, ya selfish hoor! Do you want me to tell that idiot husband of yours who you really are? Ya can’t be throwing your own da out into the street.”
“I heard Brian tell you to take Donovan’s old place.”
“Pshaw! It’s a dump. The bed is more like a wooden crate with rags thrown on it. I can’t believe the bastard actually lived there.”
“Well you can’t live here. I’m a fucking newlywed. We need our privacy.”
“Why don’t you pull the other one, Caitie? It’s got bells on it.”
“Look, you can go easy or you can go hard, old man,” she said pulling his soup bowl from him.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
“God. You’re like a two year old. Totally fecking useless.”
“Aye? Well it wasn’t me went arse over tit with yon Donovan, now was it?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know he had the both of you, Ellen and yourself. Makes me want to puke to think of it.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time he had us both together?”
She watched his hand start to shake, the spoon banging onto the table as it did.
“You’re just trying to take the piss out of me. Why you’re so cruel to your own da—”
“Oh, sod off with that your own da shite,” she said with disgust, pushing his soup bowl back to him and spilling most of it on the table.
“What with me and your brothers come all this way to make right what that sod did to you and Ellen, you’d think you’d be a little more grateful.”
“You came all this way because you had no place else to go,” Caitlin said. “And trust me, the only right you’ll be making is whatever you produce later in the loo.”
“You’ve a disgusting tongue on you, Caitlin. If your poor mother could hear you...”
Caitlin stood abruptly and went to the sink. It was her fault. She shouldn’t let the old tosser get to her like that. Brian had insisted he and the twins come with them, and after everything that was happening in Dublin it had seemed a good idea at the time.
She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a handful of the dark mushrooms she had found earlier, the dirt still clinging to them.
“Cedric says he followed Donovan out to a cabin a couple miles from here so we know where he is.”
“Everybody knows where he is,” Caitlin said. She picked up a large cleaver and roughly chopped the mushrooms into a small pile on the kitchen counter. It was important they still be recognizable as mushrooms even after several hours sitting in hot liquid.
“We aim to see him pay for Ellen’s murder,” Archie said, slurping loudly as he picked up his soup bowl and held it to his mouth.
Caitlin clenched her teeth at the sound. She glanced at the pot of soup on the stove and pulled it to her. The thermos was a wide-mouth container. She sniffed it and could still smell the coffee that it once held. She dumped the pile of mushroom into the bottom of it, then carefully ladled soup on top.
“Is there more soup?” Archie called from the table.
Caitlin glanced at the tainted thermos and for a moment, she hesitated but got control quickly. No sense in jeopardizing the plan for a moment’s annoyance, she thought.
“Sure, Da,” she said sweetly, carrying a ladle of hot soup from the stove across the kitchen to where he sat with his back to her at the table. She filled his bowl, dropping a couple of drops on the back of his hand.
“Ow!” he yelped. “Watch what you’re doing, girl!”
“Sorry about that.” She tossed the ladle back in the soup pot and screwed on the lid to the thermos. She heard dogs barking and glanced out the window to see Sarah’s boy playing with a bunch of mangy animals in the camp square. Her eyes narrowed.
Fiona and Sarah today. Mike tomorrow. And eventually every goddam one of them who watched while I was dragged out the camp entrance and thrown into the bushes.
Before they murdered my Aidan.
“Caitlin? Did you hear me?”
Caitlin shook herself out of her reverie, surprised at the flush of lust that had rushed between her legs.
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “Quit making so much noise. You sound like a pig rooting for corncobs.” She picked up the thermos and went to the door. On the other porch, she stood and checked to see who was around, who might see her talking to him, and then descended the steps.
“Oy! John!” she said, holding the thermos carefully as she walked to where he stood with the dogs and smiling broadly. “A word, please.”
***
“So what will you do?” Aideen sat across from Mike the next morning. There was no tea, no food except the small hamper Aideen had brought with her. “You have no crops, no meat, not even a gun to shoot something.”
“I’m sure Gav will be along shortly,” Mike said. “He’ll bring me a few things.”
“Will you leave?”
“The area?” He frowned. “I can’t leave Fi and Gavin.”
“But you can’t stay with them either. Perhaps they’ll come with you?”
“I’m not ready to give up just yet.”
“With Declan imprisoned and you gone, I think giving up needs to be a serious option.”
“Maybe. But I’m not there yet.”
“You’re stubborn, Michael Donovan. But wishing won’t take the place of facts.” Aideen looked over at Taffy playing at their feet. Mike had eaten very little this morning so the child could have a full stomach. “You can’t make it right for everyone all the time. You’re not infallible.”
He grunted and she reached across and touched his hand. They had slept the night at opposite ends of the house and, for once, she knew that neither of them felt tempted to crawl into bed with the other.
And not just because Taffy was there. Something had changed. She felt it too.
“Can you tell me how you feel?” she asked.
“How do you think I feel? It was because of what I told you about the community in the first place that made you come all the way here and now it’s not safe to be there.”
She shook the hand she was holding and leaned earnestly across the table to whisper so that Taffy couldn’t hear. “The place isn’t why I came, Mike.”
He closed his eyes. “That just makes it worse,” he said, his voice soft and sad.
How could a day start out so shitty and evolve into something so right? Sarah stood in the front room of Siobhan’s cottage and folded the few pieces of clothing she still owned. Some of them were hers, but most of her clothing had been lost in the fire that destroyed Cairn Cottage. Since then she had resorted to wearing whatever she could find or was given to her.
She knew Papin was upset with her, but now that they were all staying she would be able to take the necessary time to sort things out with her. Plus, it wasn’t out of the question that she and Mike might work something out, too. Sarah wasn’t sure what that would look like since she still hoped to go back to the States in due course, but she wouldn’t worry about that now.
It worked for Scarlett O’Hara, she thought and then realized: not really.
“It’s people like you making other people jump through hoops is why we’re in this mess,” Siobhan said as she sat watching Sarah pack up.
“As usual,” Sarah said, “I have no earthly idea of what you’re talking about.” She smiled at the woman to temper her words.
“Just when I was getting used to you being here and crowding me, making a mess of the place…”
Sarah knew what Siobhan had gotten used to was Sarah doing the laundry and making dinner most nights. But now with her decision to stay, Sarah wanted to move into Mike’s place with Gavin and John. Somebody needed to be with the boys. She brightened at the thought of being around when Fi’s baby was born, then frowned when she thought of Declan being held by Brian and his lot.
“It’s what I’ve come to expect from you,” Siobhan said, the whine in her voice finally hitting a rare nerve in Sarah. “The Americans are always pushing their way into things and then leaving everyone worse off than how they found them.”
“Do you want me to come by now and then and do your laundry, Siobhan? Because it would be no trouble. Or, better yet, how about if the boys come over here to live? You’ve got plenty of room.”
Fully expecting the widow to recoil in horror at the suggestion, Sarah was surprised when Siobhan sighed and said, “Well, I wondered when you’d get around to suggesting it. As much of a hardship as it would be for me, I suppose there’s nothing for it. The lads need us after all.”
Sarah stopped folding and stared at her. Oh my God. She’s lonely.
She went and sat down next to her, ignoring the old woman’s flinch when she did. “You’d be up for that, Siobhan? They’re boys and can get pretty rowdy. Plus, they come with three puppies.”
Siobhan crossed her arms and looked away. “Pshaw. I raised four sons.”
Sarah did not know that. “Where are they?” she asked gently.
“One died when he was two. Fell off a wall and broke his neck.”
Sarah nodded sympathetically. Remind me not to let you babysit Fi or Papin’s babies when they’re born.
“The other three grew up and left home. Left Ireland.”
Sarah chose her words carefully. “I suppose you’re pretty worried about what must be happening to them.”
Siobhan made a noise of disgust. “As it happens, since two went to America I’m not at all worried. They probably read about our troubles on their iPads or whatnot and went back to their big houses and their Episcopalian wives without a second thought.”
“And the other son?”
“In prison in the UK, if you must know. I suppose you’ll be spreading that everywhere around the camp now.”
Sarah stood up and went back to her packing. She buckled up the battered suitcase and shoved it under the table. “Where would the boys sleep?” she asked.
A voice shouting from outside interrupted the moment and Sarah crossed to the front door to see who it was.
“Hey, Mom,” John said, dragging three of the wolf puppies along behind him on a leather strap. “Can you come check on Auntie Fi?”
Sarah was out of the house and down the steps in a flash. “What’s the matter? Is everything okay? I thought she was down at the jail trying to get Declan out.”
“I don’t know, Mom. Missus Gilhooley just told me to tell you that she’s real sick and needs you.”
“Missus Gilhooley?”
“Uh huh. You coming?”
Sarah hesitated and then ran back to shut the door behind her. Before leaving for Fiona’s, she had a thought. “John? Why don’t you bring the puppies into the Widow Murray’s place for a few minutes.”
“Are you kidding? She hates kids.”
“I think it will distract her. If she’s not enjoying it, you can leave.”
“Aw, Mom, do I have to?”
“No, but I wish you would. Did Missus Gilhooley say what was the matter with Fi?”
John shook his head and trudged up the steps of the cottage. “She just said to hurry,” he said.
Sarah jogged out of the forecourt of the little cottage for the gravel path that led to the main camp. Was it related to her pregnancy? She had looked fine this morning. Perhaps she’d gotten emotionally overwrought as a result of her visit with Declan? Perhaps she learned that Declan was dead?
“Missus?”
The little girl was so small and so quiet that Sarah almost didn’t see her when she turned the last corner before reaching the path that led to the camp center.
“Oh, goodness, child! I nearly stepped on you.” Sarah smiled briskly and was about to continue on when the girl thrust out a hand holding a coffee thermos.
“Missus Aideen says she can’t come right now, but if you’re going to see Missus Cooper I’m to give you this here soup for her.”
Sarah paused. She thought Aideen was outside the camp at Mike’s. Obviously she must be back. She took the thermos from the child and smiled. “Thank you, sweetie. And tell Missus Aideen thank you, too, okay?”
The child nodded and then fled down the path.
Boy, it looks like Aideen is doing everything possible to worm her way into Fi’s good graces. Sarah hefted the thermos, which felt like it was only half full. Oh, well. A half gesture is better than none at all.
She hurried down the path to Fiona’s.
***
“Did you give it to her like I said?”
“Yes, Missus.”
“And said it was from Missus Aideen?”
“Yes, Missus.”
“Very good, darling. Here’s your cookie. Made with real sugar. Mind you don’t tell anyone or they’ll want one, too.”
“Yes, Missus.”
Caitlin watched the little girl scamper off clutching her cookie. It wouldn’t matter if she did tell someone, she mused.
Who would believe a little gypsy girl over the camp leader’s wife?