“Moira.” She paled and clutched at her chest. “As I live an’ breathe, ’tisMoira…”
“No, no, Ma’am,” Hecate hurried to her side and took her hand. “I’m not Moira. I’m her daughter.”
“Her daughter?” Mrs. Willes blinked and stared fixedly at Hecate’s face. “She’s got a daughter. An’ two peas in a pod y’are, dearie. As alike as could ever be.” She took a breath. “How you startled me.”
“I am so sorry,” Hecate squeezed her hand. “I don’t remember much of Mama, you see. She passed away when I was very young. And nobody’s ever really told me that I resemble her that closely…”
Tears filled the old eyes. “Gone, then, has she?”
Hecate nodded, feeling the sting of tears behind her own eyes as this sweet old lady mourned the loss of the mother Hecate barely knew.
“Ah well. ’Tis the way of things. Sit lass,” said Mrs. Willes, gesturing to another chair. “An’ this fine gentleman…yer husband, then?”
“A dear friend, Mrs. Willes. It’s an honour to meet you.” Finn bowed over the wrinkled hand and dropped a light kiss on the knuckles.
“Irish, I’ll be bound,” grinned the old lady. “Always had a way with ‘em, the Irish. An’ those blue eyes too. Sit ye down then. Tell me why my past has come back to say hallo.”
Hecate was chuckling. “You are quite correct, Mrs. Willes. Finn Casey is indeed Irish. And he recalls my Mama too. The families lived near each other back when he was a boy, it seems.”
Mrs. Willes shook her head. “The world is an odd place, sometimes. It criss-crosses itself, an’ surprises everyone. Like now.” She stared again at Hecate. “Ye’re so like yer Mama.”
Finn perched on a low stool and rested his arms on his knees. “Did you know Declan Willows, Mrs. Willes?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Of course. Moira’s older brother.”
Hecate gulped. “So my Mama was Moira Willows before her marriage? Somehow, I never thought to ask.”
“Aye,” nodded the old lady. “Good family, it was. Irish, of course. Always laughing, up to mischief, an’ Moira…well, she had a bit extra.”
Hecate puzzled over that comment. “A bit extra?”
Mrs. Willes nodded. “Touch of magic, had that girl. Out of the ordinary. Declan now, he’d worry ‘bout her. Always said she was too trusting, an’ not to do any o’ her strange things while there was people she didn’t know around her.” She cast a side glance at Finn. “’Tis all right to talk of such things in front o’ him?”
He smiled. “Indeed it is. And you’ll be happy to know that Miss Hecate here has a good helping of that self-same magic.”
Old eyes turned to Hecate and opened wide. “Ye have the gifts then?”
“I do.” Hecate acknowledged her talents openly for once.
“Use them well, my dear. They’re precious. Unique.” The old woman’s voice was low and sincere. “There’s not many that share them. I could wish there were more.”
“You are so kind,” answered Hecate. “I promise I will do just as you suggest.”
Finn reached into his pocket. “There’s a reason we are here, Mrs. Willes. We didn’t know about you until recently. When we found this, hiding on a ledge high above some old curtains.” He pulled out the little box and passed it to her.
“Ohmy…” She took it cautiously. “I been thinkin’ this was long gone, since nobody ever said a thing ‘bout it…” She pushed the button and opened the box, gasping as she saw the delicate miniature within. “Ohhh…as lovely as ever.” She looked up at Finn. “How can I begin…I don’t know…”
He held up his hand to stop her. “No thanks necessary. We’re returning it to its rightful owner. That’s all.”
She dashed a tear off her cheek. “Ye don’t understand.” Her eyes turned to Hecate. “It’s been a bad year. The crops are failin’ an’ my lad’s farm is all but done up. His wife, God rest her soul, lost her life giving it to another, but there’s little to feed or clothe the children. Young Sarah lives here with me an’ her brother Jemmy does odd jobs next door at the Inn, an’ I give them everything I can…but this…this little brooch…I will have to sell it. The money will save my family. My grandchildren.”
Hecate nodded. “I understand.”
Mrs. Willes shook her head. “Now I feel so guilty. My son found out about this. He…he…”
“He came to see if he could find it?” Finn finished her sentence.
“He did,” she whispered. “Shamed us all by breaking in. But he was convinced he could find it an’ he didn’t know if anyone was there. It had been so quiet, you see. Just two people, he said.”
