sounded too strong to come from such a frail body.
"And to you, Mrs. Flaherty." Maggie placed a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "I'd like you to meet—"
"So this be Culley Mulligan's son." The old woman nodded, her faded blue eyes sweeping over Jacob. "You're the image of your da, lad. No one can deny you that."
Jacob fidgeted and mumbled his thanks. Bridget placed a supportive hand on her son's shoulder, barely able to keep from hugging him and telling him how proud she was of him right here and now. After all, he'd only recently learned about his daddy. Hearing folks other than his momma exclaim over how much he resembled Culley Mulligan was a brand new experience for Jacob.
Then Mrs. Flaherty's gaze pinned her, and Bridget lost her ability to speak or even to think clearly. The woman had an uncanny way of seeing right through a person. Granny had been that way at times.
"And you're the one who stole Culley from Kathleen."
Confused, Bridget met Maggie's gaze. Her sister-in-law rolled her eyes and shook her head very slightly. "I... I'm Bridget Mulligan," she said, offering her hand.
The woman stared at her for several moments, then shook Bridget's hand. "You're a good, strong lass," Mrs. Flaherty said finally, turning toward the street. "A pity it is that you thought to divorce poor Culley." Muttering under her breath, the old woman crossed the narrow street.
Bridget stared, open-mouthed at the retreating figure. "I..." She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to form words.
"Never you mind the likes of her," Maggie said, reaching over to give Bridget's shoulder a squeeze. "It's her generation. And the church."
"Your granny felt the same." Bridget thought back to the day Mr. Larabee had given her Fiona's letter. She had mentioned there that her mother-in-law had hidden the divorce papers. "I thought..."
"I understand what happened," Maggie said. "Mum explained it all to us. Now, you're not to worry yourself about it anymore, Bridget Mulligan. I won't hear of it, and neither will Mum."
No mention of Riley. Still, Bridget managed a nod and a fortifying breath. "Where's the market?" Later, she would ask about the mysterious Kathleen. Culley had certainly never mentioned having a girlfriend back in Ireland.
Mercy. Bridget already had a reputation here as a divorced woman who stole other women's men, and she hadn't done anything to earn it. At least... not deliberately. Yes, she definitely needed more information about Kathleen and her relationship with Culley.
The market was outside, where rows of fruits, nuts, and vegetables were displayed for shoppers. Bridget noticed a butcher shop next door. She hadn't seen a butcher shop since she was a little girl. After the Piggly Wiggly went in at Reedville, the small grocery store and butcher shop had closed.
"Cherries aren't in season yet," she said as they walked up and down the aisles.
"I wonder if Mr. Clancy has any dried ones," Maggie said.
"And juice would help, too." Bridget followed Maggie into the small market. They read several labels and bought all the packages of dried cherries on the shelf, and four bottles of cherry juice.
Mr. Clancy was a robust man with a bald head and a red handlebar moustache. "Cherries, is it? I'm expectin' a shipment in a few weeks."
Maggie introduced Bridget and Jacob to Mr. Clancy, who greeted them without any snide comments about divorce or Americans or stealing other women's men. He winked at Bridget and said, "That Culley always did have a good eye."
Bridget blushed and managed to thank the man for his compliment. They walked back outside and saw the clouds gathering in the distance. Only now did Bridget notice that Caisleán Dubh was visible from the village, too. That danged castle was following her.
Silly. She glanced at Maggie who was staring at the sky, too.
"Welcome to Ireland," her sister-in-law said, flashing Jacob and Bridget a smile. Her red hair turned flaming in the waning sunlight as the clouds
"And to you, Mrs. Flaherty." Maggie placed a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "I'd like you to meet—"
"So this be Culley Mulligan's son." The old woman nodded, her faded blue eyes sweeping over Jacob. "You're the image of your da, lad. No one can deny you that."
Jacob fidgeted and mumbled his thanks. Bridget placed a supportive hand on her son's shoulder, barely able to keep from hugging him and telling him how proud she was of him right here and now. After all, he'd only recently learned about his daddy. Hearing folks other than his momma exclaim over how much he resembled Culley Mulligan was a brand new experience for Jacob.
Then Mrs. Flaherty's gaze pinned her, and Bridget lost her ability to speak or even to think clearly. The woman had an uncanny way of seeing right through a person. Granny had been that way at times.
"And you're the one who stole Culley from Kathleen."
Confused, Bridget met Maggie's gaze. Her sister-in-law rolled her eyes and shook her head very slightly. "I... I'm Bridget Mulligan," she said, offering her hand.
The woman stared at her for several moments, then shook Bridget's hand. "You're a good, strong lass," Mrs. Flaherty said finally, turning toward the street. "A pity it is that you thought to divorce poor Culley." Muttering under her breath, the old woman crossed the narrow street.
Bridget stared, open-mouthed at the retreating figure. "I..." She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to form words.
"Never you mind the likes of her," Maggie said, reaching over to give Bridget's shoulder a squeeze. "It's her generation. And the church."
"Your granny felt the same." Bridget thought back to the day Mr. Larabee had given her Fiona's letter. She had mentioned there that her mother-in-law had hidden the divorce papers. "I thought..."
"I understand what happened," Maggie said. "Mum explained it all to us. Now, you're not to worry yourself about it anymore, Bridget Mulligan. I won't hear of it, and neither will Mum."
No mention of Riley. Still, Bridget managed a nod and a fortifying breath. "Where's the market?" Later, she would ask about the mysterious Kathleen. Culley had certainly never mentioned having a girlfriend back in Ireland.
Mercy. Bridget already had a reputation here as a divorced woman who stole other women's men, and she hadn't done anything to earn it. At least... not deliberately. Yes, she definitely needed more information about Kathleen and her relationship with Culley.
The market was outside, where rows of fruits, nuts, and vegetables were displayed for shoppers. Bridget noticed a butcher shop next door. She hadn't seen a butcher shop since she was a little girl. After the Piggly Wiggly went in at Reedville, the small grocery store and butcher shop had closed.
"Cherries aren't in season yet," she said as they walked up and down the aisles.
"I wonder if Mr. Clancy has any dried ones," Maggie said.
"And juice would help, too." Bridget followed Maggie into the small market. They read several labels and bought all the packages of dried cherries on the shelf, and four bottles of cherry juice.
Mr. Clancy was a robust man with a bald head and a red handlebar moustache. "Cherries, is it? I'm expectin' a shipment in a few weeks."
Maggie introduced Bridget and Jacob to Mr. Clancy, who greeted them without any snide comments about divorce or Americans or stealing other women's men. He winked at Bridget and said, "That Culley always did have a good eye."
Bridget blushed and managed to thank the man for his compliment. They walked back outside and saw the clouds gathering in the distance. Only now did Bridget notice that Caisleán Dubh was visible from the village, too. That danged castle was following her.
Silly. She glanced at Maggie who was staring at the sky, too.
"Welcome to Ireland," her sister-in-law said, flashing Jacob and Bridget a smile. Her red hair turned flaming in the waning sunlight as the clouds
Similar Books
