They walked into the room without an invitation and one man stepped forward to announce firmly, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Hewalked forwardwhile the other man remained standingnear the door. “You seem to be having a rather important discussion in here. Might you tell us your purpose for being in Carraroe?”
Atticus leaned an arm against the back of his chair and adopted a casual pose.“I’m Mr. Drewery, thecaptaenof these miscreants.” He offered a curt nod of welcome, while enunciating each word in perfectgaeilge.“We thought we’d try our hand at a bit ofiascaireacht.There isn’t much salmon to be had at this time o’ year in Galway. So we thought we’d sail to Cashia Bay to see if we had better luck.”
“Indeed?” The soldier scratched his jawline, his focus keen on Atticus, as if trying to decipher the truth in his statement.
“Aye,” Atticus returned in a bored tone. “All we keep findin’ isbreacand the missus is tired of cleaning any more trout that ain’t my own.” He gave a loud guffaw and the rest of his crew joined in the merriment, as if the fictional Mrs. Drewery was quite a fearsome character.
As the laughter died down, the soldier scoffed. “We are in search of an Irishwomanwith dark hairlast seen wearing men’s attire.If you happen to find her, the Crown would be indebted to you for bringing her into our custody.”
“O’ course.” Atticus offered a wide grin. “I know a lover’s quarrel when I hear it!” With another hearty chuckle, the two soldiers left, although the inspector wore a tight smile as he departed.
Once they were gone, Atticus sobered instantly. “Time to go.”
Chapter Seventeen
Fallon awoke to a bright ray of sunshine gleaming right in her eyes. Reluctantly, she roused herself from her makeshift bed. After throwing her blanket over the stall door and brushing off the hay and dust from her clothes, she checked on the horse. “Hey, there. Did you sleepwell?” she murmured as she stroked his velvety nose and put the saddle and bridle back on him.
Opening the stall, she led him out by the reins into the early morningdawn. She blinked against the bright light, but her eyes adjusted quickly enough.Shespied a small log cabin at the bottom of the hilland frowned. She wassurprisedthatshe didn’t see the curl of smoke from the chimneythe night before, butconsidering how weary she was, itshouldn’t bethat shocking.
“Are you the one they’re lookin’ for?”
Fallon spun with a gasp and encountered a petite woman with dull red-hair holding a wicker basket full of linen.
Since speech had abruptly deserted Fallon, the other woman went on. “I heard some soldiershave beensearchin’ for a woman wearing men’s garb.” She glanced pointedly at Fallon’s dark shirt and trousers which were crumpled from spending the night in her barn. “You won’t get very far dressed like that. Come on, I imagine you’re hungry too.”
The ladyturnedto leave, but Fallon was hesitant about following her.She would like nothing more than a change of clothes and a hot meal, but couldthis womanbe trustednot to turn her in?
When she realized Fallon hadn’t joined her, she turned back around and shifted the basket to one hip while placing a hand on the other. “Come on then!I haven’t got all day. I have chores t’do.”
This time, Fallon found her feet moving forward. Her grandmother had used that same tone with her before and it was ingrained in her to listen.
Leading the horse along,Fallontied him up near the fence and cautiously followed her hostess into the small cabin. When she walked inside, Fallon noted that it was rather small, but comfortable and cheery.
“There’s no one here but me, so you don’t have t’worry about anyoneelsesneaking up on ye.” As the lady began gathering a pair of cups from the cupboard, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Do ye like ham and eggs?”
When Fallon nodded, the woman set about placing an iron skillet on the wood burning stove. She cracked open an egg and talked as she worked. “My name is Mrs. Dailey.”
Fallon took a seat at the small table set for two and clasped her hands on top. “Fallon O’Malley,” she offered politely.
She shook her head.“Don’t know any O’Malley’s. But then, I just moved out this way a couple years ago after my Liam died.”
“I’m sorry,” Fallon said sincerely.
She waved a hand. “Dyin’ is just another part of livin’. We had a good life together while it lasted.”She walked over and set down a cup of hot tea and a plate of foodin front ofFallonthat made her mouthinstantlywater.Hercalmdemeanorand the admission that she was a widow made some of Fallon’s apprehension start to fade.
She ate every bite of the tantalizing fare while Mrs. Dailey left the room. Shereturneda short time later carrying a bundle in her arms. She handed it to Fallon. “A change of clothes. I’m not sure if theslipperswill fit, but I brought them anyway.”
Fallon took the items humbly. “Thank you.I’m not sure I can ever repay your kindness.”
Theladyshrugged. “Think nothing of it.I outgrew them long ago. They’re outdated, but unless you’re concerned more about fashion than outwitting thosesoldiers, they shouldget ye t’ where ye need t’ be.”
Mrs. Dailey directed her to a closed off section of the cabin, which looked to be her bedchamber. “There’s some water in a pitcher if you want to freshen up a bit.”
When she left, Fallonquicklystripped off her old clothes. She yearned to toss them into the fire that was burning in the grate, but she folded them and set them to the side. If nothing else, perhaps Mrs. Dailey might be able to reuse the fabric for something else.
After doing her best to clean up and re-pin her hair from theitems Mrs. Dailey had left out, aplain brown skirt,whitepeasant blouse, and acorset, as worn as it might have been, Fallon eagerly donned the attire, just thankful to feel somewhat feminine again. The slippers werea bitoverlarge, but not too terrible. They were certainly better than the half boots she’d been trudging around in.
She returned to the kitchens and Mrs. Dailey smiled at her transformation.“There, now. Yedon’t look like a bandit anymore.”
