Page 14 of The Wandering Season

I walked back to the castle, the scene with Aoife and Tadgh swimming in my brain. I wanted to weep for the couple, so desperately in love, but so unjustly separated by the cruel hand of family and circumstances. I didn’t know how, but I could feel Aoife’s searing pain. Tadgh resigned himself to a life of monotony and duty, too easily in her view, because he couldn’t defy his injured father. I sensed his longing as well. Had he thought he had a prayer of convincing his father, he’d have stood beside Aoife as the ship left his beloved Ireland in its wake.

And Tadgh’s last name was Callahan, like Niall’s. It was a common enough name, but I knew the shared surname was no coincidence. Niall had said his family had been part of this castle’s history for ages. Looking back five or six generations would have been rather recent history for a place of this vintage. I’d seen Niall’s great-to-some-degree-grandfather, I was sure. But what, then, was Aoife’s connection to me?

Back in the castle, the glorious perfume of coffee and sizzling bacon wafted from the kitchen, so I didn’t bother searching for Niall in one of the guest rooms. I followed the scent like one of the cartoon characters from my youth, floating toward the wafting steam of a cooling pie.

“Mmm . . . coffee,”

I said by way of greeting, claiming the stool at the counter across from the stove.

“How’s the head?”

he asked, his voice a few decibels lower than usual, prepared for the worst.

“Fine.”

And it was, amazingly, true. Perhaps escaping to the fresh air had helped to stave off the worst of it. I imbibed frequently in my line of work, but never all that much, as a matter of principle. Too much alcohol dulled the palate, and I couldn’t afford to be off. So the fact that I managed to wake without a hangover after four pints of cider was rather remarkable.

He was both appalled and vaguely impressed that I’d emerged from my bender none the worse for wear. “What sorcery have you been meddling in? It is simply indecent for a person to drink like you did and not have the courtesy of a proper headache to show for it.”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never really overindulged before. I was a boring teen and young adult.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt. “If a person has to get pissed to have a good time, they’re usually fairly boring in my book.”

I chuckled. “Good point. I’m sure Mother Nature is just giving me one free pass on the whole hangover experience. I’m sure I wouldn’t be as lucky the next time. But I don’t plan on there being one.”

“All the better. Do you remember much?”

I accepted an empty plate from him with a grateful smile. “Everything, I’m pretty sure. I don’t think I was quite as poorly as you imagined. We’d had enough food to stave off a disaster.”

“In either case, I should apologize. I was a bit forward last night.”

I wrinkled my brow. “You just kissed my forehead, right? And put the little bucket by the bed?”

Red tinged his cheeks. “Yes. It’s silly, but I came in while you were sleeping to make sure you were still breathing. And I’m sorry about the bucket. We do have tourists who overindulge at the pub, and it can be a bit of a mess, so I have a supply of them handy.”

I shuddered at the thought of him dealing with those buckets on busy mornings. “Smart of you. But what do you have to apologize for? Being kind to me?”

His shoulders seemed to lower a bit. “I’m glad I didn’t overstep the mark then.”

“Not at all. You took care of me when I needed you. I hope I’d do the same. You were a good friend to me last night.”

“Since we’re skating perilously close to that topic, I meant what I said. You’re better off without that Jonathan fool.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

I reached over and placed my hand on his. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.

He served up fried eggs and bacon along with thick slices of toast and slid in the spot next to me at the counter. The food was simple but executed perfectly.

“So we could tour along the coast today if you’d like. Or I can let you be if you prefer.”

His eyes were focused on the skillet as he ate his own breakfast.

“I thought you were going to take me to meet your parents.”

I felt a sinking sensation in my core. Did he not want to introduce me to them anymore? Had I embarrassed him so thoroughly last night?

“I wasn’t sure you were really interested. I mean, they’re lovely people and all, but do you really want to spend a few of your precious holiday hours with a couple of stodgy pensioners? Don’t tell them I call them that, even if it’s true.”

I laughed. “If I were the manipulative sort, I’d blackmail you with that. But yes, I do want to meet them.”

Anticipation fluttered in my gut as Niall considered this. Meeting his parents shouldn’t have been a big deal. In three more days I’d be off to France and likely would never see these people again. But logical or not, I wanted to meet them.

He pushed his egg a few inches with the tines of his fork. “All right then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. And Caitlin will be there, so brace yourself for another typhoon.”

I smiled. “I’ll bring my rain slicker.”

It was less than a ten-minute drive to his parents’ house from the castle. It seemed even once they were freed from their responsibilities to Blackthorn, they couldn’t bear to be separated from it by too many miles. Their cottage, overgrown with ivy and wild roses contrasted with perfectly manicured hedgerows, looked like something out of a Tolkien novel, fit for hobbits rather than ordinary people.

His parents walked out to greet us as Niall pulled his car into the drive. His mother’s hair was dark like Niall’s, while his father’s was a deep red like Caitlin’s. She followed her parents outside, a small container of chocolate ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. She trailed us in as we exited the car.

“Caitlin has been telling us all about our American visitor.”

Mrs. Callahan kissed her son on the cheek and extended a hand to me. “Come in, come in, dears.”

I was immediately bidden to call them Liam and Molly, as they said they weren’t the sort to abide formality.

“Don’t believe half of what the wee brat says,”

Niall declared, hanging his coat on a rack in the entryway and extending a hand to take mine. He shot me a wink as he whisked me into the sitting room. “She’s a nice lady no matter what Caitlin may have led you to believe.”

“Oh shame on you, Niall Thomas Callahan. Your sister had nothing but nice things to say about our guest.”

“I figured that wasn’t interesting enough a tale for Caitlin and she’d have to throw in a bank robbery or ties to the mafia to make it a tale worth telling,”

Niall countered.

“I’d have gotten there if you’d taken much longer to get here.”

Caitlin flopped dramatically on the couch, ice cream still in hand. Niall’s mother had prepared tea and a platter of finger foods, but Caitlin seemed interested only in her ice cream.

“It’s rather early in the morning for a pint, isn’t it? Beer, ice cream, or otherwise.”

Niall’s tone was joking, but there was an undercurrent of genuine concern.

“Seamus Finnegan is an arse,”

she declared, implying no further elaboration was necessary. She took a generous spoonful of ice cream for emphasis.

Niall leaned back on his spot on the sofa, exhaling with an almost-audible roll of the eyes. “I told you that six months ago. Had you listened to your older brother, it would have spared you some heartache and Da his favorite dessert.”

She stuck out her tongue in response. I sensed Niall wasn’t particularly sad to see Seamus on the outs with his sister, and I was certain Ciaran wouldn’t be saddened by the news.

“Enough foolishness.”

Molly shook her head despairingly at the antics of her children. “I’m interested in our guest. How does Blackthorn suit you, dear?”

I beamed. “It’s wonderful. It’s the sort of place I never thought I’d get to see outside of the movies.”

Caitlin scoffed as if I spoke a heresy. “Crazy that. I spent my whole girlhood dreaming of life on the beach in California while rattling about that place and you come all the way here instead of having the good sense to hop over a few states and find a beach chair and a straw hat.”

I laughed. “Southern California in January is in the mid-sixties—maybe eighteen Celsius? Hardly beach weather.”

“Well, the Caribbean is still closer than here, isn’t it? I still think you’re daft. But, you know, welcome to the Emerald Isle and all that.”

“Such a warm greeting.”

Liam scoffed good-naturedly. “Pay her no mind. None of the rest of us do when she gets in a strop.”

“That’s enough teasing. Caitlin is entitled to her mood today,”

Mrs. Callahan warned, but it was clear she shared some of her husband’s exasperation. She turned to me. “I’m so glad you’ve taken to Blackthorn. It’s a beautiful, storied place.”

Caitlin chimed in. “But you’re off to France soon, yeah? Paris?”

Her eyes glistened a bit at the mention of the city.

I shook my head. “No, Beynac-et-Cazenac. It’s a small town on the Dordogne.”

She mumbled under her breath and took another bite of her ice cream. “It’s a shame your people didn’t come from interesting places, really. Paris, London, Madrid. Even Dublin would be better than here.”

Niall rolled his eyes again. He seemed perfectly content with his life in Westport, but clearly the small-town charms had long since lost any hold on Caitlin. “People find different things amusing, sister dear.”

“That’s a load of pickled codswallop, and you know it. Everyone wants excitement and adventure if they’re honest with themselves. It’s just that some people are more comfortable being bored than others. You, brother dear, happen to be the Irish gold medalist in that sport.”

Niall tossed a pillow at his sister, which vividly called to my mind Christmas Eve with Avery. “Watch it, brat. And don’t take your sour mood out on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you weren’t wasting yourself here,”

she rebutted.

“I won’t have this conversation with you again, Cait.”

Niall lost all glimmer of humor in his tone.

Caitlin clenched her teeth, and her eyes shot daggers at him. “It’s never been much of a conversation, has it? At least not for me.”

“Enough.”

Molly gave Caitlin a look that would have caused greater women than she to cower. “I don’t mind making allowances for a sour mood when you’ve had an upset, but I won’t have you berating your brother when he had nothing to do with your troubles.”

“Fine. I won’t spoil your tea any longer.”

She stood, anger still sparking from her like a downed live wire. Her gaze turned to me. “I do hope you’ll enjoy your time here, Veronica. Even if you must spend part of your holiday with this prat.”

She grabbed the ice cream carton and turned to make for the stairs that presumably led to her bedroom.

“I’m sorry, dear.”

Molly spoke to me, but her eyes were on the stairs where her daughter had been moments ago. “It’s a long-standing family drama, you see.”

I glanced to Niall, who remained impassive, then turned to Molly, doing what I could to play nonchalant. “What family doesn’t have those?”

“It seems a family would be dreadfully dull without them.”

Liam seemed more relaxed with Caitlin off in her room. Tension between those two had roots far deeper than the episode today.

“Perhaps it was a bad time to come.”

Niall leaned forward and rubbed his temples, exhausted from the encounter.

“No indeed. I’m glad you brought Veronica here to meet us.”

Molly refilled my teacup, then patted my hand. “A guest in the offseason is quite a treat. Especially one who seems to appreciate Blackthorn as much as we do.”

“It is lovely. Niall is a marvelous caretaker.”

I hoped the praise would help improve the mood of the room.

Liam gave a not-entirely-joking harrumph. “He’s young and has a lot to learn yet, but he’ll get there.”

Niall turned to me, conspiratorially. “Da doesn’t like my plans for extending the meal service at Blackthorn.”

Liam’s eyes flashed toward Niall. “What’s been done for hundreds of years will do well enough for now. Blackthorn doesn’t need you to meddle in how she’s run, lad. I don’t want to see the place turned into a theme park for tourists. No offense, dear.”

“Saints above, Da. It’s a hotel now, not a cathedral. I’m talking about hosting grand dinners as the MacWilliams used to do two hundred years ago. I’m not putting in a waterslide and a souvenir stand, for heaven’s sake.”

“You listen, lad. We’ve not had any vacancy at Blackthorn during high season in thirty years. Why change what isn’t broken?”

“I’m the caretaker now; it’s for me to decide, isn’t it? I’ve told you a dozen times; you will leave the running of Blackthorn to me, or you’ll come back and take over the whole thing yourself. I’ll not deal in half measures with you, good sir.”

Molly slapped her hand down on the table with a decisive thunk that caused both men to sit straighter. “Right now, you two are going to shut your fool mouths before Veronica learns the truth about what a pair of idiots you are.”

Molly’s was a tone not to be trifled with, but both men continued to share withering looks when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.

Niall avoided his father’s gaze and turned to his mother. “Speaking of Blackthorn, it seems the ghost of Aoife MacWilliam has taken a liking to Veronica. Paid her quite a visit, it seems.”

Niall looked intent, keen to see what his parents’ reactions might be, then cast a glance back to me. “Her history is a special favorite of Ma’s.”

He spoke as if the echo were as common as a visit from the postman, and his family seemed none too concerned for my sanity, either, which was oddly reassuring.

Molly shook her head. “The poor lass. Such a sad story. No one knows whatever happened to her or why she left. I always felt her presence there when Liam and I were caretakers.”

She spoke sadly, as if recounting a family tragedy. And in a way, for her, it was.

“She was in love with the stable hand Tadgh Callahan,”

I ventured. “She wanted him to flee to America and he wouldn’t go, so she left without him.”

Niall opened his eyes wide, wordlessly questioning.

“I saw another echo. In the stables this morning.”

I wasn’t sure at what point they’d find me ridiculous, but I hadn’t found that line yet.

“I wonder why he didn’t go with her. She had means and was, according to lore, quite a beauty. I suspect she had a bevy of suitors who would have been happy to spirit away with her.”

Molly spoke as if Aoife were an old friend, and I supposed to her she was.

“It was the Famine, and he was worried for his family.”

I didn’t know why I felt compelled to explain things on behalf of people who were, at best, dead and buried for more than a hundred years and, at worst, figments of my overactive imagination.

“Well, for my sake and that of our children, I’m glad he decided to stay put,”

Liam chided. “Had old Great-to-some-degree-Grandda gone off with her, the lot of us wouldn’t be here.”

“True that. Heartbreak aside, sometimes things happen as they must,”

Molly mused.

Liam looked thoughtful as he rocked in his chair. “In all my years as caretaker, I’ve never heard of Aoife making such a vivid appearance to a guest. It’s usually more of a faint whisper.”

He used the same word Niall had. As though the sounds, the experiences the place witnessed, still reverberated from the walls.

“Likely because most of the Americans don’t have the same connection to the region as Veronica has.”

Niall’s expression was serious as we told his family about my DNA test and the reason for my trip. Of course we had no way to know if his hunch was right, but I warmed at the idea of a link between Niall’s ancestors and my own.

“I’d not be surprised if you have some MacWilliam or Bourke blood in you, even if it’s a wee bit diluted over the past few generations. You feel like a familiar soul, if you don’t mind me saying so,”

Liam said.

“Of course not. There is something comfortable about the place. Something that feels like home.”

It sounded batty after only a few days in the county, but saying so in front of the Callahans didn’t feel all that embarrassing. If anyone would understand a connection to Blackthorn, it was them.

Molly noticed the bangle on my wrist, and I angled the bracelet so she could better examine it. I explained about the odd exchange with the thrift shop woman in Dublin.

Molly nodded as I spoke, her lips pursed in thought. “If you’ll indulge the ramblings of an old woman, I suspect you were brought to Blackthorn for a reason. I hope you’ll come back to see us from time to time.”

She squeezed my hand and offered me a warm smile. The invitation was a sincere one.

Warmth kindled in my chest at Molly’s kindness. “I’d like that too.”

“I’m glad to hear that, dear. Now I best go see to young Caitie before she sulks her way through County Mayo’s entire supply of fudge ripple ice cream.”

Liam’s gaze followed his wife as she ascended the stairs, and he rolled his eyes. “She’ll be embarrassed in a few hours when she’s had the chance to see reason.”

Frowning, Niall turned to his father. “I don’t know, Da. She’s well and truly unhappy.”

“She’ll find her way, lad. Don’t you fret. Now you’ve wasted enough of the lovely Veronica’s holiday. Why don’t you two young things go off and do something amusing?”

When she returned, we bid goodbye to Molly and Liam with hugs and kisses on the cheeks, and it reminded me of how my own parents had the gift of making new acquaintances feel like family. Even business-minded Dad morphed into a teddy bear when there were guests in his home. As we piled into Niall’s car, I slipped my phone from my pocket and sent my mother a quick text:

Me: Hey, Mom. All is great here. Love you! Let’s come here together sometime.