She walked forward and paused before a pair of simple gray headstones that proclaimed the final resting place ofMichael and Abigail O’Malley. She stared at the names etched into the stone and temporarily closedher eyes, allowingherself a moment to reflect on the days when she’d been a child,the bright daysafter the horrors of the famine and the loss of her parents had receded to a dull ache. She’d enjoyedthatcarefreetimewhen her grandfather would plow the feeds and her grandmotherwas busy canning orknitting. Fallon’s upbringinghad been modest, nothing like the grandeur of Shawsea Hall,but she had never doubted her grandparents lovefor her.
But now she had to wonder ifEoinO’Malley had been her true father and if thepeople she had always adoredwere, in fact, blood relation, or just a kind couple who had taken her in for the love of their son who had perished.
A sob escaped her as sheknelt before Abigail’s grave and whispered, “I wish you were here. I could use somemuch-neededadvice right now.”
Of course, theonlyanswer she received was a breath of wind that blew inoffthe sea and stirred the trees.But considering the gray clouds in the distance, a storm was likely brewing.
With adisappointedsigh, she rose to her feet.But then, what had she been expecting?A ghostly response from the grave? Michael and Abigail’s ethereal souls were gone, along withEoinand Moira O’Malley. If Fallon wanted any sort offirmrevelation, she would have to finditon her own.
Reluctantly leaving the site, Falloncontinued her journey.
It was nearlymidday by the timethe sight ofthe familiar, thatched roof, gray stonecottage came into view.Dismounting, she tiedthegeldingup to a nearby treewhere he began to munch happily on some grass.
As Fallon neared the front door, she paused and stared aheadwith a bit of trepidation, although she had no idea why. She had run through that entrance more times than she could count. But then, perhaps that’s why she was hesitant. After spending the last few months away, would it still feel like home?
Shegathered her courage and pushed open the door.
A cloud of dust hit her in the face and she waved it away, then glanced around. Other thanthe usual telltalesigns of lonely abandonment,cobwebs stringing along the rafters and a slightly musty scent from being closed up,it looked the same as when she’d left it.She peered in each of the rooms and with each one she passed; a lump of longing filled her chest.Notuntil she walked into the kitchendidshe realize all of her efforts had been futile.
She had done everything within her power to return to Ireland, had told herself it would solve all of her problems, but without someone to careforand sharea life with, this place was just an empty shell.There was no doubt that she would always remember thisplacewith fond memories, but it just wasn’t the same, even though she might wish for it to be.
Disheartened, sheturned and headed back outside, intent on returning to Father O’Leary and explaining everything.Thenshe was going to write a letter toAtticusand tell him that she knew his secrets, butwhilehemight notfeel the sameway she felt about him,he could trust her not to turn him in.Granted, she was still angry and hurtby his betrayal, and it would take some time for that to fade, but at least she could make amends and live the rest of her life with a clear conscience.
She had just untied thegeldingfrom the tree whenshe heard the sound of approaching horses. Curious,she turned to findtwomen in dark greenuniformsand hatsapproaching. She instantly felt a frisson of alarm,for she recognized theharp insigniaof the Irish Royal Constabulary,butsinceshe hadn’t done anything wrong, she calmly greeted them with a neutral expressionwhenthey stopped before hersurrounded bya cloud of dust.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
She recognized the one on the left as being an inspectorfrom the badge on his chest.His expression was hard and hespoke in a firm, commanding tone.“We are given to understand that you recently arrived in Carraroe. It is our duty to investigate every new arrival to this area.” He glanced at her male attire with a look of curiosity. “What is your name?”
“Fallon…Murphy, sir.” She hoped he didn’t catch the slight hesitation in supplying the falseidentity, but then, it wasn’t so long ago that the O’Malley name had been tied to the rebellion. Since she didn’t wish for trouble, she prayed that the pseudonym worked in her favor.
The inspector eyed her warily, obviously not completely convinced of her tale. The second man seemed to have no sort of opinion. In truth, the constable looked rather bored.
“We believe there may have been an attack against one of Her Majesty’s ships yesterday,” the first man continued. “And that a pirate known as the Raven is responsible.”
Fallon clasped her hands before her. “It seems as if you have your work cut out for yougentlemen, but I’m afraid I don’t know anything.”She started to turn away, but his accusing tone gave her pause.
“Are you quite sure about that, madam?”
Sheclutched the reins of her mount in her grasp, butslowly spun back around to face him. “Why would I have a reason to lie?” she said evenly.
His eyes flashed in challenge. “That all depends on if you’re a patriot. Or a traitor.”
Fallon had to force herself not to rise to the bait, even though she wanted to tell him exactly where he could direct his opinions.Instead,she offered a curt,“Good day, sir.”
But when she would have climbed onto thegelding’s back, her arm was grasped roughly.“Ifind it rather odd that you should be wearing men’s clothing,and the kindthat lookslike the sort sailors are known to wear.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “I’m giving you one last chance. Are you quite sure there isn’t anything that you wish to say?”
She glared athishand. “I don’t appreciate your accusations. Is it commonplace for gentlemen of your stature to assault women?”
His lip curled back from his teeth. “You will find that it isn’t wise to insult an officer of the Crown. I think it would be best if you came with us.”
He began to drag her toward his mount,andwhile the other manyawnedwhere he remained on top of his horse,Fallon realized thatshe hadto actor end up in the local gaol. She glanced downand spied thebutt of the Webley pistolon his hip,and whiletheinspectorwas still smug enough to imagine that hehadthe upper hand against a female, shespun andlifted herknee, settingit rightwhere it would do the most damage. With ahowlof pain, hedoubled over, giving her enough time to withdraw thegunand hold ittoward him.
She stared down the man on the horse whohad been spurned into action, but when hepreparedto dismount, shesaid, “If you don’t want to see your compatriotwith a hole through his chest andhis blood upon your head, I suggest you remain where you are.”
He instantly paused, indecision warring upon his face, butsincethemuzzle of the pistol was aimeddirectlyat his superior’storso,he decided that the options were not in his favor. Fallon keptthe gunpointed at thefallensoldier as she grabbed the reins of his horse. Before he could even regain his footing, she lifted her leg and kicked him off balance. As he sprawled in the dirtface firstwith adecidedgrunt, she climbed onto his horse and kicked him in the flanks before shewasevenfully seated in the saddle.
As the horse took off at a rushed gallop, she heard a steady stream of curses behind her. She knew she didn’t have any time to waste if she was to escape capture, and aftershe had justattackedthe Crown’sloyalsoldiers, she feared shehadjust turnedherselfinto an outlaw.
