Kate Hoffmann - Riley

She’d put it back later. No one would miss it, not with all the other photos tacked to the wall. Riley appeared in the doorway and Nan smiled. Her first impulse was to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. But the ease they shared yesterday had been tempered by a night apart. “Hi,” she said.

“Well, what kind of sorry greeting is that?” To her relief, Riley grabbed her around the waist and gave her a playful kiss. “Hello. You’re up early. I expected you’d sleep the day away.”

“No,” she said, smiling up at him. “I feel great.”

“You look great,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Danny brought me coffee and some soda bread. I didn’t have anything at the cottage to eat.”

“Well, we’ll have to go get you what you need. I’m just going to grab some coffee and we’ll be off.”

Nan retrieved her coffee from the pool table and gobbled down the rest of her bread, then wrapped the other two pieces in a bar napkin. When Riley returned with his coffee, he walked to the door and held it open. “Ireland awaits.”

When they got outside, Nan remembered that the car was still at the cottage. “We’ll have to walk back,” she said. “I was afraid to bring the car.”

“We can take my car,” he said. He pointed to a Toyota SUV parked at the curb. The back hatch was open and Katie, the cook, was retrieving small crates and setting them on the sidewalk. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Your car? This is what you drive?”

“Yeah. I have to haul a lot of gear when I have a gig. And this morning, I hauled mussels from Bantry.”

“If this car has an automatic transmission, I’m going to murder you,” she said.

He chuckled as he opened her door. “Sorry. It’s got a gearshift. And no, I’m not going to let you drive this one until you’ve mastered the clown car.”

“I’ve decided that I’m not going to learn how to drive that car. I’m just going to have you chauffeur me everywhere I want to go.”

He closed her door, then got in the driver’s side. “I think that’s a grand plan. And where would you like to go this morning?”

“I need to buy some groceries.”

They took off out of town, the morning breeze blowing through the sunroof of Riley’s SUV. As they drove up into the hills, the roads grew more winding and the landscape more rugged. “Why are there no trees?” she asked. “I expected forests.”

“Ah, that’s a long and complicated story,” he said.

“Tell me,” Nan said. “I want to know.”

“Ireland is a great rock of an island. Many years ago, the land was covered with trees, but people started to clear the higher land for pastures, mostly because there weren’t as many trees up high to clear. But without the trees, the good soil washed down to the lowlands and the only thing that would grow up high was heather. The heather doesn’t decompose and the new just keeps growing on top of the old and it makes peat. Peat soaks up water and turns land into a bog. And trees won’t grow in a bog.” He shrugged. “And pretty soon, all the trees were gone, high and low, cut for fuel or furniture.”

“I still think it’s beautiful,” she said. “Just the way it is. It’s wild and natural. Kind of uncivilized.”

“Did you bring your camera?” he asked. “We’ll stop at Healy Pass. There’s a grand overlook there that I think you’d like. Though the Cahas aren’t the Alps, they’re the highest in Cork.”

She reached in her pocket and pulled out her camera, but the photo fell out onto the console between them. Nan quickly picked it up, but not before Riley saw it. “What’s that?”

She held it out to him, hoping he’d forgive her for taking it from the pub. “It’s a photo of my mother,” Nan replied, holding it out to him. “I found it at the pub. I didn’t mean to take it, but I wanted to look at it more closely.”

“I’m sure it won’t be missed,” he said. “Those photos were in the pub when my folks bought it, so I can’t tell you much about them.” He stared at it. “Which one is she?”

“The one in the middle with the red hair,” she said. “At least I think that’s her.”

“Pretty,” he commented. He handed it back to Nan. “It’s easy to see where you got your fine looks.”

Nan frowned. “I don’t think I look like her at all. I think I resemble my dad. He had dark hair when he was young.”

They drove on, Nan staring at the photo and ignoring the landscape. All of the people in the photo had known her mother. And some of those people might have lived in Ballykirk. She flipped the photo over, hoping there might be an inscription on the back identifying the subjects, but it was blank.

If any of the people were from the village, someone would have to recognize them. And that might lead her to another person who might have known her mother. Nan ran her fingers over the photo. They all looked so young and happy. Her mother’s smile was so bright, her face alive with happiness.

As they continued their drive, Nan thought about her reasons for coming to Ireland. Was she chasing a ghost? The last two years of Laura Galvin’s life were spent in and out of hospitals and before that, Nan had only scant recollections of the lively and laughing woman.

All she knew was that there was an empty spot inside of her, as if part of her identity was missing. She wasn’t sure who to be or how to be. And when it came to love, she had nothing but romantic movies and books to guide her.

How many times had she wondered about love, about all the things that a mother told her daughter on the subject? No one had ever explained how it was supposed to feel. She’d never really seen it at home. Of all the questions she’d dreamed about asking her mother, that had been the most important. How would she know when she met the right man? How would it feel?

“Here we are,” Riley said. He turned onto the edge of the road. “We’ll have to walk a bit, but it will be worth it.”

Nan looked out the window, surprised by the change in the landscape and the weather. The powerful rugged beauty of the land took her breath away and she stared at the unearthly sight, made even more strange by the wispy fog that hung over it all. Everywhere she looked was a picture waiting to be snapped, a perfect postcard image of a countryside so stunning it made her heartache.

Nan tucked the photo back into her pocket as she jumped out of the truck. From where she stood, she could look out at the valley below and the winding road that cut through it. Behind her, the mountains rose higher, huge craggy slabs of stone jutting into the gloomy sky.

“If we hike up a ways, there’s a better view,” Riley said. He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. A flood of warmth rushed through her at his touch. Yesterday, she’d been all alone in the world. And today, she had this man who wanted to spend time with her, a man who enjoyed kissing and touching her. A man who wanted to spend the night in her bed.

Nan leaned into his body and smiled. As she came around the truck, she noticed two sheep observing them from across the road. They jumped off the small ledge they were standing on and headed toward her.

A tiny scream slipped from her throat and she held tight to Riley’s arm as they nudged her, sticking their noses beneath her jacket.

“Get off, you tossers!” he said, pushing the sheep aside. “The tourists feed them and now they stand around waiting for something tastier than turf.”

Nan laughed as one of the sheep butted her in the backside. She ran up the road and the determined sheep trotted after her. “I love Ireland,” she called to Riley, throwing her arms out to the sky.

THEY HIKED UP to the top of the pass, stopping at the solitary house on the road, now turned into a shop that sold souvenirs and ice cream. Riley bought a cone and they shared it as they continued on up to the grotto.