Kate Hoffmann - Riley

Danny nodded. “That’s not the worst of it. Some of the older folks believe that a dead hand is a cure to all sickness.”

“Ew,” Nan said. “You have to eat a dead hand?”

“No,” Danny cried, shaking his head. “We’re not that macabre. If you’re ill, you just have to be touched by a dead hand. So all the sick relatives come to the wake so they can be touched by the dearly departed’s hand.”

Nan shuddered. “I felt like I was being watched in the churchyard.”

“If a ghost or an evil spirit chases you, they can’t follow you across water. So find a stream and jump over it.”

“Good to know,” Nan said with a laugh.

“Don’t worry. Aina can’t leave the cemetery, so you’re safe.”

“I saw some Quinns there.”

“My grandparents are buried there. Rory and Brenna Quinn. And Rory’s parents, Jack and Siobhan. Jack was shot during the Irish rebellion and Siobhan also worked for the cause. That was his fishing boat that you and Riley took to Bantry. And Rory was a pilot for the RAF during the second world war. The Quinns have always lived large.”

“Riley said you were an artist. Can I see your work?”

He grinned. “Sure. I have some things in my workshop. We can stop on our way to the pub if you’d like.”

“I would,” Nan said.

They strolled along in the warm noonday sun, watching the dogs run ahead of them. Danny was as charming as Riley, amusing her with a complete education of Irish superstition. By the time they reached his workshop, she could only wonder how the Quinn boys had remained single for as long as they had.

She followed Danny around the back of cottage to what looked like a small barn. He pulled a large door open and Nan stepped into the dimly lit interior. Ornate ironwork hung from the old timber beams and along one wall, large swaths of canvas hid his sculptures. Danny pulled them off one by one, revealing wildly imaginative work. Nan stared in awe at his sculptures.

“This is incredible,” she murmured, walking from piece to piece.

“This is what I do in my spare time,” he said.

She moved to a small wooden case, filled with tiny carvings of animals and insects. “What are these?”

“I did those when I was a kid. That’s how I got my start, in bath soap and driftwood.” He reached up to a shelf that hung from the stone wall. “Here. I have something for you.”

He handed her an ornate Celtic cross made from cast iron. The detailing on it was incredible and she gazed at it in awe. “That came from my religious phase,” he said with a wry smile. “I did a whole series of them. This is the only one left.”

“I-I can’t take this,” she said.

“Sure you can,” Danny said. “It will ward off evil spirits and it works as a deterrent to pickpockets and highwaymen.”

“Have you ever shown your work at a gallery?” she asked.

“I have a show every few years in Dublin at a gallery there. But I don’t have much time for my art. I spend most of my days making practical things like gates and andirons. They pay the bills.”

Nan stood in front of a sculpture of a giant soaring bird, its wings reaching out like arms to the sky. “I don’t know a lot about art, but I know this is good. It makes me feel something.”

“There’s one just like it in Dublin. It was a commission from the mayor’s arts council.”

He spent the next half hour showing her all of his pieces, explaining each one and answering all her questions. Nan was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Riley’s brother. He was just like…family.

He seemed genuinely interested in her opinions and appreciated her comments about her favorite pieces. From the start, with Riley, it had been all about the attraction between them, so powerful and intense. But Danny seemed like a good friend, only interested in chatting with her.

When they’d finished the impromptu show, Nan watched as he covered all his sculptures, wondering what it would be like to become a part of this family. She was all alone in the world now, except for her Irish grandfather.

She could only guess at why her mother’s parents never been a part of her life. Maybe they’d never wanted her mother to have an illegitimate child. Or maybe they disapproved of her marrying an older man. Certainly, an unexpected pregnancy would come as a shock to any parent, especially when the father of the baby wanted nothing to do with the mother. But Laura Daley had decided to do what she needed to do to make a life for her daughter.

Maybe she had still loved Tiernan. Maybe she died with his image in her mind. It was a romantic notion that they were finally together. Was that what the inscription had meant? Until they meet again.

Or perhaps his betrayal had ended any feelings she’d ever had. But one thing was certain. She had wanted the baby growing inside her and she’d probably defied her parents in making that choice.

“So, Riley tells me you’ll be leaving us soon,” Danny said as they continued their walk into Ballykirk.

“I go home tomorrow,” Nan said. “I don’t want to leave. I haven’t seen half of what I came here to see. I had all these carefully laid plans and they all fell apart.”

“Plans have a way of doing that now, don’t they,” he said with a wry smile. “Maybe your plans to go home should suffer the same consequences.”

“I have a job I have to get back to,” she said.

“Is it something you love?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to reply, but then realized that her automatic affirmation wasn’t really what she felt. Was she as passionate about her work as Danny was? He mentioned that he had to sculpt, that he had no other choice in the matter. But Nan couldn’t work up such strong feelings for her own career.

Yes, liked what she did, but it wasn’t important work. Not like Riley’s music and Danny’s art. If Nan didn’t do her work, they’d find someone else who would. She was easily replaced.

“Yes,” she lied. “I really do love it.”

“Well, then, it won’t be so difficult to leave Ireland, I’d expect.”

When they reached the pub, Danny opened the front door and they walked inside the quiet interior. Riley was standing behind the bar, scribbling something on a pad of paper. He looked up as they came in, glancing between them both at first, his expression unreadable.

“I met Nan on the road into town,” Danny explained.

“He took me to see his studio,” Nan added, wondering at the chilly look Riley gave Danny. “I guess we lost track of time.”

Riley pointed at the clock. “Yeah, well, you’re late, little brother.”

“Jaysus, Riley, what’s fifteen minutes?”

“Twenty,” Riley said. “And considering I only have today left with Nan, it’s more than I’m willing to give up to you.” He tossed his apron at Danny, then circled the bar and grabbed Nan’s hand. He drew her toward the door. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Thanks for the tour, Danny,” she called, waving at him as she hurried out the door. “If I don’t see you again, it was nice meeting you.”

When they got outside, Nan pulled her hand from his and stopped, refusing to take another step. “That was rude.”

“He’s my brother. I’m allowed.”

“Why are you such a grump? We just walked into town together. He was nice to me and showed me his work.”

“That usually does the trick with the girls here in town,” Riley said.

She gasped, stunned that he’d think there was something going on between her and his brother. “Wow, you did get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

He cursed softly, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Right. Well, how the hell am I supposed to feel? It’s like time is slipping through my fingers and I can’t do anything to stop it, Nan. You’re going home tomorrow and we may never see each other again and you don’t seem to give a shite.”