“I just wish I’d met her,” Aisling said quietly. “And my grandfather?”
“Gone before Maeve was grown. Car crash. Broke Noreen’s heart.”
“She never remarried?”
“No need. The land was her husband and the village her family. We take care of our own here in this small town.”
It felt strange to hear details about people she should have known but didn’t. Like reading a book where you were born halfway through the story.
“What about you?” Bríd asked, eyes twinkling. “No husband? No children?”
Aisling snorted. “Nope.”
Bríd tsked. “You young people make it so hard. When I was your age, we were all matched up by twenty-two.”
“I was engaged,” Aisling said, stabbing her bread with unnecessary force. “But then he played hide the sausage with my boss, and that was the end of that.”
Bríd winced. “Ah. One ofthose.You’re well rid of him.”
Aisling nodded, appreciating the easy solidarity. It had been three weeks since that terrible morning. Three weeks and now her life was quite different.
“I’m just here to fix the place, then head back. Maybe sell it.”
That got Bríd’s full attention.
“You’re not staying?”
“I don’t know,” Aisling said honestly. “I haven’t decided. It’s just... a lot.”
Bríd studied her, expression unreadable. “What’s left for you back in the States?”
Aisling hesitated. “Nothing. But that doesn’t mean this is home.”
“In Mountshannon, we become family,” Bríd said softly. “It’s how your grandmother managed. It’s how you will too. Here you are, the prodigal daughter we’ve longed to see.”
She made the sign of the cross, fingers trembling slightly. “Your mother, we all so wanted her to return, but she never did.”
Aisling sipped her coffee. The warmth steadied her, but her mind spun. There were so many things she didn’t know. So many silences Maeve had wrapped around her like armor.
“There are things you need to know about your family. Things that happened that are the reason why you’re here today,” Bríd said suddenly. “Things that shaped all of this.”
That was a strange series of statements. “Like what?”
Before Aisling could ask more, aloud knock rattled the back door.
She jumped.
Bríd looked amused.
“Local welcome committee?” Aisling asked, already heading to the door.
She opened the door and came face-to-chest with a man.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Stormy eyes, the color of thunderclouds and mischief. His dark hair curled slightly at the ends, and his expression was somewhere between outrage and disbelief.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
His arrogant manner immediately turned her off.
