more often than not. And Gray has one as well, so . . . Youâll want to do some sightseeing, I imagine. One of us will be happy to guide you about if you like. Sometimes people just like to wander on their own. This is our village,â she added.
It was no more than that, Shannon mused, more than a little downcast. A tiny place with narrowing sloping streets and shops and houses nestled. Charming, certainly, and quaint. And, she thought with an inner sigh, inconvenient. No theater, no galleries, no fast food. No crowds.
A man glanced up at the sound of the car, grinnedaround the cigarette clinging to his bottom lip and lifted a hand in a wave as he continued to walk.
Brianna waved in return, and called out the open window. âGood day to you, Matthew Feeney.â
âDonât stop, for Christâs sake, Brie,â Maggie ordered even as she waved herself. âHeâll talk from now till next week if you do.â
âIâm not after stopping. Shannon wants a rest, not village gossip. Still, I wonder if his sister Colleen is going to marry that Brit salesman.â
âBetter had from what Iâve heard,â Maggie said, scooting up to rest her hands on the back of the front seat. âFor heâs sold her something already sheâll be paying for in nine months time.â
âColleenâs carrying?â
âThe Brit planted one in her belly, and now her fatherâs got one hand around his throat and the other seeing the banns are read. I got the whole of it from Murphy a night or two ago in the pub.â
Despite herself, Shannon felt her interest snagged. âAre you telling me theyâll force the man to marry her?â
âOh, force is a hard word,â Maggie said with her tongue in her cheek. âEncourage is better. Firmly encourage, pointing out the very reasonable choices between marriage vows and a broken face.â
âItâs an archaic solution, donât you think? After all, the woman had as much to do with it as the man.â
âAnd sheâll be stuck with him just as heâs stuck with her. And the best of it theyâre bound to make.â
âUntil they have six more children and divorce,â Shannon said shortly.
âWell, we all take our chances on such matters, donât we.â Maggie settled back again. âAnd we Irish pride ourselves on taking more of them, and bigger ones than most.â
Didnât they just? Shannon thought as she lifted her chin again. With their IRA and lack of birth control, alcoholism and no-way-out marriages.
Thank God she was just a tourist.
Her heart gave a quick lurch as the road narrowed. The winding needle threaded through a thick tunnel of hedge planted so close to the edge of the road the car brushed vegetation from time to time. Occasionally there was an opening in the wall of green, where a tiny house or shed could be viewed.
Shannon tried not to think just what might happen if another car came by.
Then Brianna made a turn, and the world opened.
Without being aware of it, Shannon leaned forward, her eyes wide, her lips parted in surprised delight.
The valley was a painting. For surely it couldnât be real. Roll after green roll of hill unfolded before her, bisected here and there by rock walls, sliced by a patch of brown turned earth, a sudden colorful spread that was meadows of wildflowers.
Toy houses and barns had been placed in perfect spots, with dots of grazing cattle meandering, clothes waving cheerfully on lines.
Castle ruins, tumbling stones, and a sheer, high wall, stood in a field as if that spot were locked in a time warp.
The sun struck it all like gold, and glinted off a thin ribbon of silver river.
And all of it, every blade of grass was cupped under a sky so achingly blue it seemed to pulse.
For the first time in days she forgot grief, and guilt and worry. She could only stare with a smile blooming on her face, and the oddest
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