Riley

3

“MORNIN’.”

Nan smiled at the handsome man behind the bar, then realized he was the brother she’d met last night, freshly shaved and sober. “You’re Danny, right?”

He nodded. “Danny. We met last night. Although it was so black in here that we didn’t have time for a proper introduction.” He held out his hand over the bar. “Danny Quinn. I’m the younger. Don’t know if you’ll get a chance to meet Kellan. He’s the elder.”

She shook his hand, then took a seat on one of the stools. “I’m Nan. Nan Galvin.”

“I remember,” he said, his smile wide. “And how are you enjoying your stay in Ballykirk so far?”

“I haven’t seen much,” she replied. “Riley said we were going out sightseeing after breakfast, but it’s almost time for lunch. Is he here?”

“He had to make a quick run into Glengarriff to pick up mussels, but he said to tell you he’d be back around eleven. Which means, he’ll be back in ten minutes. Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“Coffee, if you have it,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m trying to reset my clock and I think it might take more than a day.”

“How do you have it?”

“Black,” she said. “And very strong.”

“Katie’s made some lovely soda bread. Can I interest you in a slice? Fresh out of the oven.”

Nan nodded. “I’d like to try that. I read in my guidebook that it’s traditional Irish food.”

Danny disappeared into the kitchen. While she waited, Nan took in more details of the pub. She hadn’t had much chance to really look around. Riley had told her about watching the singers in his parents’ pub, about how he’d memorize all the songs and then try to figure them out on an old guitar his father had bought him.

This place was as familiar to him as the library was to her. She peered at an old photo hung above the cash register and then circled the bar to take a closer look.

A man and woman stood in front of the pub with two teenage girls and a trio of young boys. Nothing had changed much in the ensuing years with respect to Riley and Danny, Nan thought. The two Quinn brothers she’d already met still possessed their boyish smiles and tousled hair. The sisters, though all arms and legs, were already beauties.

The kitchen door opened and Danny reappeared with a plate and a mug. “Here we are,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Nan murmured. “I was just taking a look at this photo. You and your brother haven’t changed much.”

“That was taken the day my da bought in to the Hound,” he said. “I think I was seven. Riley was nine and Kellan would have been eleven. Shanna and Claire were teenagers.” He set the plate and mug on the bar. “There are other photos over on that wall. A few of Riley performing when he was just a lad.”

She returned to her seat and picked up the coffee, then took a slow sip. “Umm, I really needed this. I have to shop for groceries today. I don’t have anything up at the cottage. Where would I go?”

“We have a small green grocer in town. He sells locally grown vegetables. And the baker’s right next door to him. If you want fish, just walk down to the waterfront when the boats come in. If you want chicken, Bobby Rankin raises them and will deliver them to the green grocer the day after you order. Anything else, you’ll need a real supermarket and that’s in Kenmare, across the pass.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” he said with a warm smile. “Now, you’ll have to pardon me because I need to change out the barrel on the Guinness.”

As promised, the soda bread was lovely-a bit tangy and filled with plump, sweet raisins. She spread butter over a slice and took a big bite, then groaned softly. It was the perfect breakfast food, she mused. Grabbing her mug, Nan walked over to the wall of photos, curious to find more of Riley. There were layers upon layers, some so old they were yellow and curled and the color faded.

As promised, there were a number of Riley performing at the pub, from the time he was just a young boy through adulthood. She compared each one, noting how happy he looked standing in front of the microphone, his guitar almost bigger than he was.

As she turned away to return to the bar, a snapshot caught her eye. Nan stepped closer, leaning in to the group of six young twenty-somethings-three men and three women. For a moment, her heart stopped beating and she felt dizzy.

One of the girls in the photo looked so much like her mother it was-no, it had to be her mother. She set her bread and coffee down on the edge of the pool table and carefully peeled the photo off the wall. Nan hurried over to the window, searching for more light.

“Oh, it is,” she murmured, the words coming out on a sigh. There was no doubt in her mind. Though the colors were faded, the girl with the red hair was someone she’d seen in pictures at home-the wedding photo her father had kept on the mantel, the framed portrait that she’d had next to her bed and the family pictures that her grandparents had pasted in albums.

A rap at the window startled Nan out of her contemplation and she looked up to find Riley smiling at her. She quickly shoved the photo into her jacket pocket and hurried to the door. When he stepped inside, Nan wasn’t quite sure what to do. She wanted to put the photo back where she’d found it, yet she needed time to examine it more closely.

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.

The four white statues depicting Mary at the cross were set into the mountainside, a stark contrast to the gray surrounding them. Though he wasn’t a particularly religious man, after a lifetime spent in a land filled with Catholic monuments, he’d come to appreciate how much a part of him it all was.

“Are you Catholic?” he asked.

She shook her head. “My mother was before she was married. My mother’s parents were. But I was baptized Episcopalian.”

Slowly, he was learning things about her, tiny facts that really didn’t change his feelings for her, but completed the picture. “We have a thing for the Virgin Mary here in Ireland.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

They continued on up the pass, to its highest point. Though he drove through the pass almost weekly, he’d never stopped to really look at it through a stranger’s eyes. “They named this spot one of the top ten most romantic places in Ireland,” he said.

“Is that why you brought me here?” Nan asked.

“I’d forgotten about it until now,” he said. “When we read the news article at the pub we were all laughing. How could they have called this pile of rocks romantic? But I see it now. I guess it all has to do with the person you’re with.”

When they got to the top of the rise, they stood alone at the overlook. “We’ve one foot in County Cork and one foot in County Kerry,” he said. Riley pointed toward the view. “There is the River Kenmare and Glenmore Lake. And just through those mountains, you can see Bantry Bay, not far from Ballykirk.”

“It is romantic,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “But it would be more romantic if you kissed me.”

“Are you giving me orders now, woman?” he teased. “I can’t just be kissing you whenever the mood strikes.”

“Well, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll do all the work.”

“Make it good,” Riley warned. He closed his eyes and puckered his mouth. Nan started laughing and he looked at her, glad to see that he could tease her out of a quiet mood.

“Stop,” she said, grabbing his chin. “Make your mouth go the right way.”

“Like this?” He pulled another face and she patted his lips with her fingers. “How about this?”

“No. Just make your mouth soft. Now, part your lips just a little bit.” She smiled. “There. That’s better.”

“Are you ready now? Or maybe you’d like me to stand on my head?”

“I’m ready.” As she moved closer, they both kept their eyes open and at the last moment, a fit of giggles overtook her. “This is not going to work. I can’t kiss you if you’re acting silly.”

He softly touched his lips to hers. “Yes, you can. You can’t resist me.”

“I do like you,” Nan said. “You’re a very likeable guy.”

“A sound bloke,” he said.

“A straight-up dude,” she said, putting on a slacker voice.

He smoothed his hand through her hair. “So we’re all right? You seemed…preoccupied earlier in the car.”

“I was. But it wasn’t about you.”

“You were thinking about your ma.” He gave her a fierce hug. “Don’t be sad about that. You’ll find her here. At least what she left behind. You have the letters and now the photo. Who knows what other clues we’ll find?”

She pulled the photo from her pocket. “Do you recognize anyone in the picture?”

“How would I-” He examined the photo more intently. “It was taken in front of the pub, I can tell you that. See there? That’s what the shutters used to look like before my da made new ones.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. No one looks even vaguely familiar. But this was taken when? When I was a year old? My da might know. Or Jimmy McPhee, his old partner. He still lives in Ballykirk. He owned the pub when this photo was taken, before my da came in as a partner. He’s about eighty now, but his mind is still sharp.”

“Would you ask him?”

“We’ll both go,” he said. “We can stop by on our way back to the cottage.”

“I’m almost afraid to know for sure,” Nan said. “If he tells me that red-haired woman is Molly Malone from Dublin, I’ll probably start crying and I’ll make a fool out of myself.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a perfectly good sleeve here to wipe your tears away.”

She smiled at him, then pulled out her camera and turned it on. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and snapped a picture. When it came up on the screen, she showed it to him. “You and me in the most romantic place in Ireland,” she said.

He pulled her into a playful embrace and nuzzled her neck. “Oh, I think we can do much better than that!”

WHEN NAN HAD BOOKED her trip to Ireland, she’d sketched out an entire itinerary, each day planned down to the hour. But now, she realized that all she wanted to do was to let the next nine days unfold in front of her, full of surprises.

Shopping for groceries had been an exercise in silliness, with Riley providing commentary on everything she put in her trolley, as he called it. She’d purchased enough food to last her for a week and mentally planned out a meal for that evening, hoping that Riley would agree to stay for supper if an invitation were offered.

Though they’d both avoided the subject of what hadn’t happened the night before, Nan had no doubt they’d be faced with the same choice tonight. Over the course of the day, she’d only confirmed the undeniable attraction between them. At every opportunity, Riley found an excuse to pull her into a kiss or to rest his hand at the small of her back or to run his fingers through her hair.

Though it hadn’t gone further than mild displays of public affection, Nan felt the need growing between them. She saw the desire in his eyes, felt it in the way he held her. His desire was like the waves crashing against the rocks, slowly washing away her inhibitions, threatening to sweep her out to sea.

It was already impossible to control her feelings for him. With every hour that passed, she became more infatuated with him. No amount of self-censure seemed to help. Yes, she knew all the risks, but here, in this strange land, her usual common sense had inexplicably abandoned her.

When they reached the cottage, Riley helped her carry the groceries inside. Nan sorted them, putting some in the small refrigerator and others in the cabinets above the stove. But when she was finished, she realized that she’d neglected to buy anything decent to drink.

“Wine,” she murmured. “I forgot to buy wine. And beer.”

“Don’t worry yourself. I’ll bring some up from the pub.”

“When you come for dinner tonight?” she asked.

“You’re going to be cooking for me now?” Riley grinned.

“Yes. It’s the least I can do after you drove me to the supermarket. Can you come or do you have to work?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “But there is one thing I need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“Should I bring a toothbrush?”

Nan felt her cheeks warm and she pressed her face into his chest. Undeterred, Riley hooked his thumb beneath her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. “Am I being too bold then?”

“No,” Nan murmured. “And it might be a good idea to bring other…necessities?” He smoothed his hands over her hips and pulled her against him, the action provocative. A shiver of anticipation skittered up her spine.

“That I can do,” he said, leaning to whisper in her ear. “I’m thinking about kissing you again, and about carrying you into the bedroom and letting you have your way with me. But I think we should leave that until tonight, no?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“So, we have two options. I can leave you and return tonight. Or, we could take ourselves down to Jimmy McPhee’s place and have a chat.”

“I vote for Jimmy McPhee’s,” she said.

“All right then, let’s go.”

They arrived at a small whitewashed cottage just minutes later, Riley pulling the SUV up to the front gate. “Jimmy is a notorious flirt,” he warned. “He’ll probably ask if he can kiss you and he’s sure to grab your arse, so keep a watch out.”

“You said he was eighty.”

“Oh, that doesn’t stop him. He may have slowed down a bit, but whenever he stops by the pub, he has the ladies buying him drinks all night long.”

They knocked on the door and a few seconds later, it swung open to reveal an elderly man with pure white hair and twinkling blue eyes. His eyes widened when he caught site of Nan and he grabbed her hand. “Oh, Lord, my prayers have been answered. I’ll forget about winnin’ the lottery if you’ll just let me keep the girl.”

“Afternoon, Jimmy,” Riley said, snatching Nan’s hand from the old man. “We’ve come to see you to ask a question. Can we come in for a chat?”

“Only if you’ll stay for a cup o’ tea,” he said, stepping back to allow them inside. “Come, come. And mind your manners, Riley Quinn. Introduce me to your lovely friend.”

“This is Nan Galvin. She’s come all the way to Ballykirk from America.”

“America? I have a cousin in America. He lives in Boston. You wouldn’t happen to know him, would you? His name is Bobby McPhee.”

She glanced over at Riley. “I’m afraid not. I live a long way from Boston. In Wisconsin.”

“Sit,” he said. “I just put a pot on. I’ll be right back.”

She and Riley took a spot on the sofa. Riley took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Nan reached into her pocket and pulled out the photo and looked down at it. What were the odds he’d remember a girl from twenty-seven summers ago? Yes, her mother had been an American, so she might have stood out as different. But after so many years?

When Jimmy returned, he poured them all a cup of tea, then passed around a plate of cookies. Nan was too nervous to drink or eat and as soon as he settled himself in a comfortable chair, she held the photo out to him.

“I was hoping you’d remember the people in this snapshot,” she said. “It was taped up on the wall of the pub. It was taken about twenty-seven years ago.”

He took the picture and studied it for a long time, then pulled his glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on.

“They would have been in their early twenties,” Nan continued.

“This would have been about 1984,” Riley added. “About eight years before my da bought in to the pub.”

Jimmy cocked his head to the side, as if he were trying to retrieve a memory from deep in his mind. He pointed to the photo, tapping at it. “One of these boys looks familiar. What was his name? Oh, he was a chancer, that one. He lived out on that farm the other side of Trafask, just around the big bend on the Glengarriff Road.”

“Where the Donnelys live? The place with the pond?”

“That’s it,” he said. “He used to work one of the fishing boats out of Ballykirk. Now what was his-ah, there it is. Tiernan. His name was Tiernan Findley.”

Nan sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re sure? Tiernan?”

“Sure I am. And his da was Carey.”

Her pulse quickened and she had to remind herself to breathe. What did this mean? Had her mother named her after this boy? And why would she have done that?

“I remember him and his da hanging about the pub. He was there one summer and then he was gone. I remember something of a drowning.”

“Do they still live on the farm?” Riley asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “As I recall, his da sold the farm maybe fifteen years ago. Don’t know where he went. But you could ask Kenny Craig. He leased his land before Findley sold.”

Nan’s mind was spinning, wondering what this boy named Tiernan had meant to her mother. Were they just friends? Or had they been more? And why would she have chosen to name her only child after a boy she met in a pub in Ballykirk, Ireland? A horrible thought occurred to her. What if Tiernan had died in the accident and she’d been named in his memory?

The possibilities began to overwhelm her and she felt the room closing in on her. She quickly stood. “I-I have to go,” she murmured. “It was a pleasure meeting you, but I have to go.” She stumbled over Riley’s feet as she squeezed past him and headed for the door.

“I’ll be going, too, Jimmy. But thanks.”

“Is the lass all right?” Jimmy asked.

“I think all this talk of her departed mother might be a bit upsetting.”

By the time she got to the front door, Riley was behind her, his hands firm on her waist. She hurried outside, drawing deep breaths of the fresh afternoon air. “He’s dead. I know it. My mother named me after that boy because he died. He was her friend and he died. And maybe she loved him.”

“You don’t know that. We don’t have all the answers yet.”

He drew her toward his car, but Nan stopped short. “I think I’m going to walk home,” she said. “I just want to let this settle for a while.”

“All right,” Riley said. “Are we still on for tonight?”

She nodded. “Yes. Of course. I’ll see you at seven?”

“Sounds grand,” he said. He walked with her out the gate, then kissed her cheek. “Don’t drive yourself mad over this, Nan. We don’t know anything for certain yet. Worry about it when you know for sure.”

He obviously didn’t know anything about her, Nan thought to herself. She had always been an expert at turning molehills into mountains. She nodded and started off down the road in the opposite direction.

When she turned back, she saw Riley watching her from beside his car, a look of concern etched on his handsome features. He was right. Wasting energy wondering about things that might not be was silly. Maybe Tiernan was happy and healthy and he’d be able to tell her all about her mother. She’d put her worries aside for now and think about them later.

She gave him a wave and he returned it. Maybe it was fate that she’d rented his cottage. Maybe she was destined to meet him so that he’d be able to help her with her search. But was that all it was supposed to be? Or were they meant to be more to each other?

So many questions. But was she really ready to know all the answers?