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Authors: Nora Roberts
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side. And, it seemed, to the world in general.
“I’m Kathy Duffy from down to the village, and this is Betsy Clooney, my niece on my sister’s side. Patty Mary, my sister, works at the food shop today or she’d’ve come to pay her respects as well. But I said to Betsy this morning, why if she could get her neighbor to mind the baby while the two older were in school, we’d just come on up to Faerie Hill Cottage and say good day to Old Maude’s cousin from America.”
She said most of this with her rather impressive bottom, currently covered by the eye-popping garden of red poppies rioting over her dress, facing Jude as she wiggled into the back of the car. She wiggled out again, face slightly flushed, with a covered cake dish and a beaming smile.
“You look a bit like your grandmother,” Kathy went on, “as I remember her from when I was a girl. I hope she’s well.”
“Yes, very. Thank you. Ah, so nice of you to come by.” She opened the gate. “Please come in.”
“I hope we gave you time enough to settle.” Betsy walked around the car, and Jude remembered her from the pub the night before. The woman with her family at one of the low tables. Somehow even that vague connection helped.
“I mentioned to Aunt Kathy that I saw you at the pub last night, at Gallagher’s? And we thought you might be ready for a bit of a welcome.”
“You were with your family. Your children were so well behaved.”
“Oh, well.” Betsy rolled eyes of clear glass green. “No need to disabuse you of such a notion so soon. You’ve none of your own, then?”
“No, I’m not married. I’ll make some tea if you’d like,” she began as they stepped inside the front door.
“That would be lovely.” Kathy started down the hall,obviously comfortable in the cottage. “We’ll have a nice visit in the kitchen.”
To Jude’s surprise, they did. She spent a pleasant hour with two women who had warm ways and easy laughs. It was simple enough to judge that Kathy Duffy was a chatterbox, and not a little opinionated, but she did it all with great good humor.
Before the hour was over, Jude’s head swam with the names and relations of the people of Ardmore, the feuds and the families, the weddings and the wakes. If there was something Katherine Anne Duffy didn’t know about any soul who lived in the area during the last century, well, it wasn’t worth mentioning.
“It’s a pity you never met Old Maude,” Kathy commented. “For she was a fine woman.”
“My grandmother was very fond of her.”
“More like sisters than cousins they were, despite the age difference.” Kathy nodded. “Your granny, she lived here as a girl after she lost her parents. My own mother was friends with the pair of them, and both she and Maude missed your granny when she married and moved to America.”
“And Maude stayed here.” Jude glanced around the kitchen. “Alone.”
“That’s the way it was meant. She had a sweetheart, and they planned to marry.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“His name was John Magee. My mother says he was a handsome lad who loved the sea. He went for a soldier during the Great War and lost his life in the fields of France.”
“It’s sad,” Betsy put in, “but romantic too. Maude never loved another, and she often spoke of him when we cameto visit, though he’d been dead nearly three-quarters of a century.”
“For some,” Kathy said with a sigh, “there’s only one. None comes before and none after. But Old Maude, she lived happy here, with her memories and her flowers.”
“It’s a contented house,” Jude said, then immediately felt foolish. But Kathy Duffy only smiled and nodded again.
“It is, yes. And those of us who knew her are happy one of her own is living here now. It’s good you’re getting around the village, meeting people and acquainting yourself with some of your kin.”
“Kin?”
“You’re kin to the Fitzgeralds, and there are plenty of them in and around Old Parish.
“I’m Kathy Duffy from down to the village, and this is Betsy Clooney, my niece on my sister’s side. Patty Mary, my sister, works at the food shop today or she’d’ve come to pay her respects as well. But I said to Betsy this morning, why if she could get her neighbor to mind the baby while the two older were in school, we’d just come on up to Faerie Hill Cottage and say good day to Old Maude’s cousin from America.”
She said most of this with her rather impressive bottom, currently covered by the eye-popping garden of red poppies rioting over her dress, facing Jude as she wiggled into the back of the car. She wiggled out again, face slightly flushed, with a covered cake dish and a beaming smile.
“You look a bit like your grandmother,” Kathy went on, “as I remember her from when I was a girl. I hope she’s well.”
“Yes, very. Thank you. Ah, so nice of you to come by.” She opened the gate. “Please come in.”
“I hope we gave you time enough to settle.” Betsy walked around the car, and Jude remembered her from the pub the night before. The woman with her family at one of the low tables. Somehow even that vague connection helped.
“I mentioned to Aunt Kathy that I saw you at the pub last night, at Gallagher’s? And we thought you might be ready for a bit of a welcome.”
“You were with your family. Your children were so well behaved.”
“Oh, well.” Betsy rolled eyes of clear glass green. “No need to disabuse you of such a notion so soon. You’ve none of your own, then?”
“No, I’m not married. I’ll make some tea if you’d like,” she began as they stepped inside the front door.
“That would be lovely.” Kathy started down the hall,obviously comfortable in the cottage. “We’ll have a nice visit in the kitchen.”
To Jude’s surprise, they did. She spent a pleasant hour with two women who had warm ways and easy laughs. It was simple enough to judge that Kathy Duffy was a chatterbox, and not a little opinionated, but she did it all with great good humor.
Before the hour was over, Jude’s head swam with the names and relations of the people of Ardmore, the feuds and the families, the weddings and the wakes. If there was something Katherine Anne Duffy didn’t know about any soul who lived in the area during the last century, well, it wasn’t worth mentioning.
“It’s a pity you never met Old Maude,” Kathy commented. “For she was a fine woman.”
“My grandmother was very fond of her.”
“More like sisters than cousins they were, despite the age difference.” Kathy nodded. “Your granny, she lived here as a girl after she lost her parents. My own mother was friends with the pair of them, and both she and Maude missed your granny when she married and moved to America.”
“And Maude stayed here.” Jude glanced around the kitchen. “Alone.”
“That’s the way it was meant. She had a sweetheart, and they planned to marry.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“His name was John Magee. My mother says he was a handsome lad who loved the sea. He went for a soldier during the Great War and lost his life in the fields of France.”
“It’s sad,” Betsy put in, “but romantic too. Maude never loved another, and she often spoke of him when we cameto visit, though he’d been dead nearly three-quarters of a century.”
“For some,” Kathy said with a sigh, “there’s only one. None comes before and none after. But Old Maude, she lived happy here, with her memories and her flowers.”
“It’s a contented house,” Jude said, then immediately felt foolish. But Kathy Duffy only smiled and nodded again.
“It is, yes. And those of us who knew her are happy one of her own is living here now. It’s good you’re getting around the village, meeting people and acquainting yourself with some of your kin.”
“Kin?”
“You’re kin to the Fitzgeralds, and there are plenty of them in and around Old Parish.
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