“She’s no’ here,” Sean blurted out, taking Owen’s arm and guiding him back to the chair. “Sit. Please. I’ll tell ye what little I know.”
“Where is she? She’s no’ well enough tae be on her own.” Suddenly, Owen’s eyes widened. “She remembered something? Is that it?”
“Aye!” Sean replied, grasping at any excuse. “She said ’twas breakin’ her heart tae leave ye, and ’twould be too hard tae do it in person.” That much was true, Sean reasoned. “She said she had tae go find her family. I wanted tae go with her, but she refused.”
“When did she leave?”
“During the night. She said ’twas the easiest way.”
“My sweet Kenna. Gone?” Owen whispered, staring into space, eyes filled with unshed tears.
Several minutes passed with neither of them saying anything. Sean kenned ’twould take some time for Owen to accept her leaving. Sean hadnae. No’ yet. At least Owen had jumped to a reasonable conclusion. And a better one than Sean could have managed.
“Well then,” Owen said, visibly trying to gather himself. “At least her family willnae have tae worry any longer.” He nodded. “ ’Tis good, aye?”
Sean nodded as well, even though they both knew ’twas a lie.
“I ken I’ll go back tae the kirk for a while. Unless ye wish me tae stay,” Sean added. “ ’Tis where I first met Kenna. ’Twas her favorite spot and I’ve grown rather fond of it, myself. I want tae continue cleanin’ up the cemetery. ’Tis no good tae leave a job unfinished, aye?”
“Aye,” Owen nodded, absently. Sean wasnae sure he’d been listening at all. The slumped man before him looked as if he’d suddenly aged ten years.
The timer went off on the oven and Owen dinnae budge.
“I’ll get that,” Sean offered after a few seconds.
“Just set them out and turn the oven off,” Owen mumbled. “I’ll drive ye tae the kirk. I need some fresh air.”
Most of the ride was silent. Despite Sean’s desire to be at the kirk, he worried this blow might be too much for Owen. “Mayhap I should stay and help ye, today?”
Owen shook his head. “Nae. I thank ye, but I need some time tae work through this news. I’ll just need ye for the evening cleanup, as usual.” Eyes wide, he darted a gaze at Sean. “Yewillreturn, tonight? Ye’re no thinkin’ of leavin’, too?”
How had this gentle man become so important to him, in so short a time? In truth, Sean hadnae thought beyond getting Kenna home. Whatever he decided about leaving, ’twould no’ be before he was sure Owen would be okay. “I’ll be there. Where else can I mooch free pastries and the best coffee I’ve ever tasted?”
The relief on Owen’s face tugged on Sean’s heart and dinged his conscience. He hated hiding the truth. But Kenna’s truth would do Owen more harm than good.
“Moira will be back from seeing her new grandchild, tomorrow,” Owen said as he pulled up to the cemetery. “I’ve a notion tae turn the day’s work over tae her and join ye here.”
“I would like that verra much,” Sean assured him as he got out of the car and reached for the shovel. “As ye can see, there’re plenty of weeds tae go around.”
Owen nodded, swallowed a few times, and tried to say something, but couldnae. Finally, chin quivering, he glanced at Sean, then out at the road. “Kenna’s apartment is yers as long as ye want it.”
He drove away before Sean could respond.
In the midst of shattering heartbreak, Owen had offered him a home. Sean wasnae sure he could endure the emptiness and loneliness of Kenna’s rooms. But the idea of a home, after all these centuries of no’ belongin’ anywhere, was overwhelming. Mayhap he was meant tae be here, tae look out for Owen. Mayhap they were all the family either of them would ever have, again.
But neither of them could ever repair the gaping holes in their patchwork family. Owen’s wife, and now Kenna. Sean knew in his heart Kenna would no’ return. He prayed she’d find her family and they’d be whole and intact once again. If so, mayhap she’d findherhappiness again.
’Twould be such a gift to see Kenna happy. ’Twould let a little light into the cracks of his shattered heart. Knowin’ ’twas impossible, Sean turned wearily toward the cemetery, praying he’d find a way to be content with the few days he’d known her.
Chapter Seventeen
Kenna climbed onto the back of a wagon bound for market in the next village, grateful for a reprieve from endless days of walking. She’d had enough to drink from the streams she passed but had only found a couple of places willing to offer a stranger a scant bit of porridge.
In the crowded wagon, piled among cages of rabbits, pigeons, and peacocks, were bags of oats and onions. She desperately wanted to sneak some to appease the gnawing cramps in her belly. But exchanging this ride for helping unload when they got there, along with the promise of a bit of food to take with her, was too precious to take the chance.
She’d already used up several such chances. All the time she’d fought to come back she knew finding her family would be difficult, but she hadnae realized how risky even subtle inquiries about the witch trials would be. They’d already cost her a meal on several occasions and more than one quick exit from a farm or village.
It hadnae taken Kenna long to learn to be far shrewder in her inquiries. ’Twas still possible she could be recognized or accused of witchcraft and arrested all over again. The necessity of being overly cautious had slowed her progress considerably.
