The three men shoved the table back together more tightly.
“At this rate,” Paxton brushed his hands together as if he’d just cleaned out an attic and not stretched a clean table, “we’re going to have to knock a wall out soon and make the dining room even bigger.”
“I was just thinking that.” Owen slapped his brother on the back and led the way into the kitchen where people were maneuvering around, getting dishes, silverware, slicing bread, filling bowls and platters with savory selections. Just another family dinner at the Farradays.
“Here.” Aunt Eileen handed Ryan a massive bowl of mashed potatoes. “Take this and sit down.” She turned to Nicole, handing her a basket with warm rolls. “Please put these on the table too and go ahead and take a seat next to Ryan.”
Accepting the basket, Nicole nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Of all the things Ryan loved about living in Texas, Sunday supper at the ranch topped his list. The family had settled into that sweet spot between good food and good conversation when Adam’s phone dinged in his pocket.
“Now that’s odd,” Adam muttered.
Conversation around him dipped. Aunt Eileen paused mid-pour with the gravy boat. “What’s odd?”
“Just got a notification from that DNA app. Says I have a fourth cousin. Or maybe third cousin once removed?” Adam squinted at his screen. “In Colorado.”
“Once removed?” Paxton looked up. “What does that even mean? Like they moved?”
“Or,” Morgan’s fork froze part way to his mouth, “removed as in someone got kicked out of the family.”
Laughter filtered around the table. Nicole dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “That’s not what removed means. It clarifies generations. A first cousin once removed could be your parent’s first cousin, or your first cousin’s child. It meansyou’re one step away from being on the same level of the family tree.”
Impressed with her handle of the information, Ryan faced Nicole. “How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “Used to love genealogy as a kid. My friends and I spent hours trying to figure out if we were descended from royalty or something exciting.”
“Any luck?” Eloise smiled.
“Only if you count a horse thief in Kentucky.” That got more laughs around the table.
Ryan bit back a grin. The woman had a good sense of humor. Or maybe, she really did have a horse thief in her family history.
“So fourth cousin,” Adam looked heavenward as if he’d find his thoughts written on the ceiling, “that has to go back how far?”
“To find the common ancestor you’re probably talking a great-great-great grandparent.” Her food forgotten, Nicole leaned forward in her seat. “Think someone born in the mid to late 1800s.”
Uncle Sean ran his hand behind his neck, frowning. “The original Seamus O’Farredeigh was born around 1850, but we were told that he had no siblings.”
“Are you sure?” Aunt Eileen asked.
“As sure as I can be. The story goes that Seamus O’Farredeigh’s only family was his bride Bridget Nixon and he wanted a better life for his family than what Ireland could provide. I’m assuming no family means no siblings or cousins.”
“Wasn’t that around the time of the potato famine?” Aunt Eileen waved a fork.
Uncle Sean nodded.
“If this Colorado connection were a descendant from Seamus’ cousin, that would change the link to maybe a fifth cousin once removed, or even a sixth cousin,” Nicole explained.
Uncle Sean shook his head. “That fits. We were specifically told when he got word his wife had died before he could save enough money to bring her to the States, that he was terribly depressed. With no other family left in Ireland, there was no point returning. So, he stayed in the United States the way he and Bridget had planned. Eventually, after some crazy dream that he interpreted to be Bridget’s way of telling him to move on with his life, he fell in love with a woman from New England and moved here.”
“That’s right.” Aunt Eileen smiled. “From Boston. It’s why our house and Connor’s are so close together. So the women could visit easily. We’re the only ranch houses out here within walking distance.”
Ryan wasn’t sure what was more entertaining, the story, or the way Nicole followed the conversation, her gaze bouncing from person to person, her eyes alight with interest as if waiting for someone to score the final point in a tennis match.
“Does it say the person’s name?” Meg leaned over to peek at her husband’s phone.
Frowning, his finger swiped up, then down, then up again. “Don’t see it.”
