“Perhaps,” I agree, “Just like your father.”
She nods, “Yeah, I think so too.”
Moving away from me, she disappears into the tree line, and I lose sight of her for a moment. Panic rises, but I push that down. She’s safe now, we don’t have to look over our shoulders anymore, waiting for something to jump out at us.
When she returns, she’s holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, the colors vibrant and popping against her dark tee. She hands them over to me.
“Go tell her,” She whispers.
I feel my eyes burn as those words sink under my skin, but my feet won’t carry me forward, nailed to the floor.
“Go on,” Niamh encourages.
“Come with me,” I swallow thickly.
She nods softly and accepts my hand, walking by my side. She stands behind me as I lower to my knees on the soft mossy earth, my hand running over my mother’s name.
Della Elizabeth Knight
Mother. Daughter. Friend.
Now one with the earth.
“We did it, ma,” I whisper, so low, only the trees around me can hear. “We got you justice.”
My eyes burn a little hotter. There’s only been a handful of times in the past twelve years that I’ve come here, too ashamed I haven’t been able to give her the peace she deserves.
“I’m sorry it took so long.” I sigh. “It took a hell of a woman to help me. You’d love her. Her name is Niamh.”
I glance at my wife, her eyes glistening as she listens.
“And she somehow agreed to be my wife. Luckiest man alive, I’ll tell you. I suppose Pops had something to do with it. Give him hell up there for me, will you? But then thank him for me; if not for him, I never would have got the girl in the end. Tell him I get it.”
I place the wildflowers down, leaning them against her headstone.
“I won’t leave it so long next time,” I promise her. “I miss you like crazy, and I hope this now brings you some peace. Until next time, ma.”
Rising to my feet, I step across to my grandfather.
“Cheers, old man,” I feel the corners of my mouth lift into a grin, “You were right after all.”
A wind whistles through the trees as I move back to Niamh, teasing her hair, and I lift my thumbs to wipe away the single tear tracking down her cheek.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “But there’s one more thing I need to show you.”
“What?”
“You’ll see,” I grin, guiding her back to the truck except I get in behind the wheel.
“Should you be driving?” She quirks a brow.
“I’ll go slow.” I jerk my chin. “Let’s go.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t fight me as I turn us around and head back to the ranch. The house comes into view, but before I take us home, I stop us at the barn beside the stables and cut the engine.
“You can’t ride, Roman,” Niamh chastises, “Doctor’s orders.”
I chuckle and wince when my stitches pull. “Not here to ride, sweetheart.”
