At the top step, Zaira halted, and Alannah did likewise. Darkness engulfed the stairway and even the hallway below, but the light of the moon outlined Kiernan in the doorway as he conversed with a man on the threshold.
James Shanahan stood behind Kiernan, in his night clothing, including a long nightcap. Kiernan was still attired in his clothing, missing only his coat and vest. He was holstering a revolver, one he’d obviously brought to the door in case he needed the protection.
“I’ll be right there,” Kiernan said. “Ride into town and alert the police and then tell Liam.”
The messenger gave a curt nod before he spun on his heels and crossed the porch.
Kiernan closed the door and then stalked past his da down the hallway.
Mr. Shanahan grabbed on to Kiernan and tried to stop him. “You can’t be going and trying to fight them yourself.”
Kiernan shook off his da’s hold. “I won’t sit back and let them destroy my brickyard.”
Mr. Shanahan lumbered after Kiernan. “At least wait for the police.”
Kiernan paused at the back door. “I can’t wait. My workers, my buildings, everything I’ve invested in the business is at stake.”
“Your life is more important than the business.”
“My workers’ lives are important too.”
The frustrated voices of the father and son carried up the stairway where Alannah huddled next to Zaira. Madigan and Quinlan had gathered behind them. And Mrs. Shanahan was making her way down the stairs in her nightgown while still donning her robe.
Kiernan stepped outside, letting the back door slam behind him. The noise reverberated through Alannah, setting her world off-kilter.
Mr. Shanahan threw the door open and called, “Be careful, son. Please don’t do anything rash.”
If Kiernan responded, Alannah couldn’t hear him. A moment later, Mr. Shanahan stepped back in, his shoulders sagging. When he turned, Mrs. Shanahan was on the bottom step.
“Blessed Mother, help us.” Mrs. Shanahan’s whisper was grave.
It sent chills up Alannah’s backbone.
The question was, did she have the power to stop Shaw and his attack? If she handed herself over to him, would he call off the fight at the brickyard? And would he finally leave Torin to live in peace?
She hesitated a moment, then swallowed her reservations. She had to go to the brickyard now. She had no other choice, not if she wanted to save Torin and protect Kiernan from danger.
21
Alannah tiptoed down the servants’ stairway, her cloak on and the hood up. As she stepped out onto the main floor, the light from the parlor illuminated the hallway.
The whole family had congregated in the front room while Mr. Shanahan had gone up to his room to change. He’d just returned and was speaking to his family while waiting for the coachman to bring around his horse so he could ride to the brickyard.
Could she go with him? Dare she ask?
If she attempted to travel by foot, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way in the dark. And she would be much too late to intervene and possibly too late to prevent Torin from being hurt since at least fifteen if not thirty minutes had elapsed since Kiernan had left.
Even now, if she rode with Mr. Shanahan, the damage might already be done. What good would she do then? Was she being foolish to think she could rush off to the brickyard under such circumstances?
Torin had warned her that if anything happened to him, she wasn’t to go out. Besides, if she showed herself there, she would only distract Torin and Kiernan and make them angry after how hard they’d worked to keep her safe and out of Shaw’s hands.
Her heart sank low.
Madigan and Quinlan were sharing every detail they’d ever heard about the Farrell gang—the cockfighting in basements, the knife brawls in alleys, men losing fingers and toes and even eyes, and more.
Alannah had already learned enough during her time living in the Kerry Patch, had witnessed the brutality and fighting between the rival gangs. Now she whispered a prayer for her brother’s safety and for Kiernan’s, but like so many prayers, they seemed to hit the ceiling and fall back down upon her shoulders.
“Let me go with you,” Madigan insisted. “I know how to handle the rifle.”
