Page 3 of Irish Rose
“So Cullen’s not married yet.”
“Cullen?” Despite her determination, Erin’s gaze had drifted back to the mirror and Burke. She cursed herself. “No. Much to my mother’s regret, he’s still single. He goes into Dublin now and again to sing his songs and play.” She hit a rough patch that sent the van vibrating. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
Turning her head, she studied Adelia with genuine concern. “Are you sure? I’m wondering if you should be traveling at all.”
“I’m healthy as one of Travis’s horses.” In a habitual gesture, Adelia put a hand on her rounded belly. “And I’ve months to go before they’re born.”
“They?”
“Twins this time.” The smile lit up her face. “I’ve been hoping.”
“Twins,” Erin repeated under her breath, not sure whether she should be amazed or amused.
Adelia shifted into a more comfortable position. Glancing back, she saw that her two youngest were dozing and that Brendon was putting up a courageous, if failing, battle to keep his eyes open. “I’ve always wanted a big family like yours.”
Erin grinned at her as the van putted into the village. “It looks like you’re going to match it. And may the sweet Lord have mercy on you.”
With a chuckle, Adelia shifted again to absorb the sights and sounds of the village she remembered from childhood.
The small buildings were still neat, if a bit rough around the edges. Patches of grass were deep and green, shimmering against dark brown dirt. The sign on the village pub, the Shamrock, creaked and groaned in a breeze that tasted of rain from the sea.
She could almost smell it, and remembered it easily. Here the cliffs were sheer and towering, slicing down to a wild sea. She could remember the times she’d stood on the rock watching the fishing boats, seeing them come in with their day’s catch to dry their nets and cool dry throats at the pub.
The talk here was of fishing and farming, of babies and sweethearts.
It was home. Adelia rested a hand against the open window and looked out. It was home—a way of life, a place she’d never been able to close out of her heart. There was a wagon filled with hay, its color no brighter, its scent no sweeter than that of the hay in her own stables in America. But this was Ireland, and her heart had never stopped looking back here.
“It hasn’t changed.”
Erin eased the vehicle to a stop and glanced around. She knew every square inch of the village, and every farm for a hundred miles around. In truth, she’d never known anything else. “Did you expect it would? Nothing ever changes here.”
“There’s O’Donnelly’s, the dry goods.” Dee stepped out of the van. Foolishly she wanted to have her feet on the ground of her youth. She wanted to fill her lungs with the air of Skibbereen. “Is he still there?”
“The old goat will die behind the counter, still counting his last pence.”
With a laugh, Dee took Brady from Travis and cuddled him as he yawned and settled against her shoulder. “Aye, then he hasn’t changed, either. Travis, you see the church there. We’d come in every Sunday for mass. Old Father Finnegan would drone on and on. Does he still, Erin?”
Erin slipped the keys of the van in the pocket of her purse. “He died, Dee, better than a year ago.” Because the light went out of her cousin’s eyes, Erin lifted a hand to her cheek. “He was more than eighty, if you remember, and died quietly in his sleep.”
Life went on, she knew, and people passed out of it whether you wanted them to or not. Dee glanced back at the church. It would never seem exactly the same again. “He buried Mother and Da. I can’t forget how kind he was to me.”
“We’ve a young priest now,” Erin began briskly. “Sent from Cork. A hell-raiser he is, and not a soul sleeps through one of his sermons. Put the fear of God into Michael Ryan, so the man comes sober to mass every Sunday morning.” She turned to help with the luggage and slammed solidly into Burke. He put a hand on her shoulder as if to steady her, but it lingered too long.
“I beg your pardon.”
She couldn’t stop her chin from tilting forward or her eyes from spitting at him. He only smiled. “My fault.” Grabbing two hefty cases, he swung them out of the van. “Why don’t you take Dee and the kids in, Travis? I’ll deal with this.”
Normally Travis wouldn’t have left another with the bulk of the work, but he knew his wife’s strength was flagging. He also knew she was stubborn, and the only way to get her into bed for a nap was to put her there himself.
“Thanks. I’ll take care of checking in. Erin, we’ll see you and your family tonight?”
“They’ll be here.” On impulse, she kissed Dee’s cheek. “You’ll rest now. Otherwise Mother will fuss and drive you mad. That I can promise.”
“Do you have to go now? Couldn’t you come in?”
“I’ve some things to see to. Go on now, or your children will be asleep in the street. I’ll see you soon.”
