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So that was exactly what she was going to do.

The waterfall was an oasis within an oasis. Bright green bracken hung over the cliff face in long, thick fronds, and trees of hazel, wych elm, and ash perfectly framed the forty-foot falls. From the top, the water spilled down the dark stone in multiple layers like white silk wafting in a breeze. The streams accumulated in a dark pool at the base of the falls, the water as rich and shadowed as a black pearl.

Maisie had seen some truly remarkable things over the summer. The Eiffel Tower. The Sagrada Familia. The Neuschwanstein Castle. The Colosseum. Even the Running of the Bulls.

And yet, out of all of those marvelous locations, all the noise and excitement and chaos and tourists had her heart yearning for peace and quiet—the peace and quiet she now felt so poignantly that tears pricked her eyes.

“Nothin’ quite like it, is there?” Finn spoke beside her, staring at the falls himself.

Maisie blinked away her tears. “No,” she said softly. “It’s stunning.”

Finn glanced at her sidelong, and when their eyes met, Maisie had a funny feeling that this last leg of her journey was going to be the highlight of her European trip.

First, she just needed to figure out if flirting with the tour guide was allowed. She could only pray that it was.

CHAPTER FIVE

Finn pulled the door open to Doherty’s Café and stepped over the threshold. Clinking silverware and idle chatter surrounded him at once, and the scent of onions, chicken, and tea reached his nose in welcoming waves.

Sidling past full tables and sidestepping waitresses with hands full of soup bowls and plates of bread, he made his way to the back counter. A small bell rested on the wooden countertop, and above it, a large sign read, “Order Here for Takeaway”.

He didn’t have to wait at the empty counter for long as Mrs. Doherty emerged from within the kitchens moments after he rang the service bell.

Her eyes met his, and she paused, popping her hands on her hips. “There’s me big lad,” she said, pulling in her chin with a broad, welcoming grin. Her hair was pulled back in a soft bun, though strands of gray fell down around her wrinkled features. “I thought you were away without seein’ me.”

“I’d never miss the chance of seein’ you, Mrs. Doherty, you know that,” Finn returned, and it was the truth.

Typically, he’d spend the duration of this stop at the café, chatting and visiting with the woman. But he’d been distracted by someone else today.

“You mean you’d not miss the chance of eatin’ some of me food,” she corrected.

“That, too.”

She laughed, walking toward him and giving both cheeks a quick peck. “Lovely to see you, Finny Boy.”

It wasn’t just anyone he allowed to use such a nickname on him—his ma being the only other soul on earth—but with Mrs. Doherty being a friend of the O’Meara family since before he was even born, Finn had a soft spot for the woman.

She pulled back, securing her pinny with the strings behind her. She didn’t do much of the actual cooking anymore, preferring to chat with customers instead, so the fabric was mostly clean. Still, all of the recipes served at the café were her own creations. He figured she wore the pinny as more of a uniform than anything.

“Right,” she said, “the usual, then?”

Finn nodded. “Unless you’ve got a cheesy beano back there,” he said.

“A cheesy beano, he says,” she muttered under her breath. “Catch yourself on.” She rolled her eyes, though her playful smile remained. “I’ve a mind to keep me soup to meself now.”

“Naw, you like receivin’ praise too much to keep your food to yourself.”

She scoffed, swatting him on his arm. “The cheek on you, lad. How does your ma handle you?”

“By sendin’ me on bus tours.”

She laughed, then began backing up toward the kitchen. “One bowl or two, then?”

“Best make it two today. And two baps, please. I’m so starved, I could eat the decorations off a hearse, like.”

Finn loved taking tourists around his country, but sometimes, the constant need to simplify his accent was exhausting. What he really loved was speaking with his friends and family because only then could he allow his tongue to be fully free.

“Any afters?” Mrs. Doherty asked next.