March 6: 12 Days Before the Festival
Sunny opened her eyes and looked up at the paneled wood ceiling of her room. She felt rested and eager to start her day. She sat up, yawned, and stretched. She could hear activity downstairs and wondered how long she had slept.
"Good morning, love!" Fiona stuck her head in and smiled warmly. "Sleep well?"
"I sure did!" Sunny declared. "I had the strangest dream too."
Fiona pushed open the door between their adjoining rooms and leaned against the jamb. "What was it?"
I dreamed that you and this wonderful white-haired woman with bright green eyes came to see me while I was sleeping, and she said, 'Welcome home, Siobhan.' All I could do was smile back."
Fiona smiled. "Maybe it was your namesake coming to welcome you home?"
"Maybe," Sunny replied. "It was a wonderful dream, though."
"Let's get some breakfast, and then we'll be on our way," Fiona said, turning away to re-enter her room.
"What do we do today?" Sunny asked.
Well, I have a stop to make before we go to the cottage," Fiona replied. "Nothing too strenuous, I promise."
Sunny began getting dressed and repacking her bags. She picked up her cell phone, its black screen reflecting her face, a reminder of her broken ties to it. Once, she depended on it for information, calls, and photos; now, it was useless and out of place. She didn't mourn the loss. In fact, she considered throwing it away. All her pictures and data were stored somewhere in the cloud. Throwing the device away would just be littering this new place with her unhappy past. She dropped it into her shoulder bag, pulled the drawstring, and pushed it from her mind.
She and Fiona went downstairs and Cassie warmly greeted them. "Good morning! I hope you slept well last night."
"I did!" Sunny replied. "In fact, I don't think I've ever slept so soundly in my whole life."
"She dreamt of her great-grandmother, Siobhan Dannan," Fiona said with a wink at Sunny. "A good omen, I think."
Cassie's eyes widened. "Indeed, a good omen! I hope she was pleased with her namesake."
"Oh yes," Fiona responded. "I'm quite sure she was."
Breakfast was muffins and jam. Strong coffee and orange juice. Sunny had a hearty appetite, as did Fiona. When they were done, Cassie packed a basket with bread, cheese, and some grapes. "You'll probably get hungry on the road," Cassie told Sunny, "Knowing Fiona, she'll have scads of people to see before you get to Laurel Cottage."
"Aye," Piper declared as he stored a crockery urn with his dark beer under the front seat of the cart. "I'm placing a little refreshment to make the journey a bit easier."
Sunny giggled as Piper handed her two glasses to put into Cassie's basket.
All of Sunny's bags were loaded onto another cart. Piper covered them with a canvas tarp and watched as a couple of teenage boys secured the trunks with rope. "I'll have the boys drop your luggage off at Laurel Cottage."
Fiona nodded. "That's fine, leave everything in the hall."
The boys nodded and went back inside the tavern to finish their game of billiards. Fiona approached Miggs. "Miggsy, we've a few stops to make before we go home."
Miggs' ears turned forward, and she bobbed her shaggy head. Sunny came up beside Fiona. "So, this is Miggs?" she asked. She looked at the red-and-white cob mare and smiled. "Hello, Miggs. I've heard a lot about you from Aunt Fiona."
Miggs stretched her neck toward Sunny. Sunny stroked the mare's nose and readjusted a lock of white mane that had fallen over one of Miggs's large brown eyes. "This is Siobhan," Fiona replied as if Miggs had spoken. "You remember me telling you about Sunny." Miggs simply eyed them both, her ears twitching as if in thought. Fiona sighed and went to the driver's side of the cart, folding down the step. "Come on, Sunny, she'll remember soon enough!" Sunny patted Miggs's well-muscled shoulder as she passed and climbed into the cart, with Fiona following behind.
Fiona gathered the reins and looked over at Piper and Cassie. "We'll see you soon," she said and clucked her tongue. "On we go, Miggs!"
Sunny waved and said farewell to the couple before turning face forward. "Where are we going?"
"Well, we need to visit Lady Margaret," Fiona said, then leaned forward. "You hearing that, Miggs? We are going to Thornegate."
Miggs tossed her head and moved into a trot. Fiona smiled over at Sunny. "Miggs likes the horses the young laird keeps!"
Sunny chuckled softly. "Who is the young laird?"
"Hugh O'Donnell," Fiona replied. "He served for several years and retired as a Lieutenant Colonel in the British Royal Army. In the artillery or something like that; anyway, he was injured and came home."
"Injured?" Sunny asked, frowning at the thought.
"Hmm, yes." Fiona responded, "Shrapnel from a land mine, I believe; it messed his leg up a bit.
"I'd imagine he's glad to be home and away from all that," Sunny responded.
"Doesn't talk much about his army life," Fiona said, "but he's very interested in his horses. In fact, he's breeding the finest Vanner Cobs in Ireland, I'd say."
"Is Miggs a Vanner Cob?" Sunny asked.
"She is indeed!" Fiona replied with a proud smile. "Though she's not one of Hugh's cobs. Miggs came from Tully."
"And Tully is from one of the tribes," Sunny said. "He was the one they were talking about in the pub last night."
"Them!" Fiona snorted dismissively. "Those old fools don't know what they're talking about! Tully is a fine man."
"When do you think I'll get to meet Tully?" Sunny wanted to know. "Does he visit often?"
Fiona's burst of anger faded and was replaced with a gentle smile. "Oh, he comes through every so often; he's due soon for a visit."
Within a few minutes, Fiona stopped the cart at a track that ran alongside a line of tall hedgerows. On the other side of the track was a white fence bordering a pasture, with a line of slender Lombardy poplar trees stretching straight as far as the eye could see. Miggs turned her head to look back at Fiona and nickered questioningly. "Yes, Miggsy! On we go!"
"It's a lovely place," Sunny said, watching the play of light and shadow as the trees arched over the dirt track. "I suppose Thornegate is a huge, rambling estate?"
"You'll see," Fiona replied. "Built in 1794, if memory serves."
The cart rolled gently forward, Miggs steady beneath them. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the road in gold and green. White sheep dotted the knolls, their bleating carried on the breeze like distant bells.
Then the ravens appeared.
A dozen black shapes wheeled overhead, their wings slicing the air in slow, deliberate arcs. Sunny leaned forward. "Look, they're here."
Fiona drew Miggs to a halt. One raven broke formation and glided down, landing on a fencepost just ahead. Its feathers shimmered with an oily sheen, and its eyes gleamed with uncanny intelligence.
"Do you recognize him?" Fiona asked.
Sunny shook her head. "No... but maybe he'll recognize this."
She reached beneath her collar and pulled out the leather cord. The silver horse crown caught the light as she dangled it from her finger.
"Do you recognize this gift?" she called softly. "One of your brothers left it for me."
The raven tilted its head. It ruffled its feathers and made a low, chuckling sound, like laughter caught in a whisper.
—
Far away, the Raven Prince smiled.
Through the raven's eyes, he saw her clearly. The silver half-crown glinted like a beacon. She wore it openly, like a talisman.
She is marked, he thought. She is as good as mine!
"Follow her," he said aloud. "Let no harm come to her. I want to know where she goes."
The raven blinked once, then launched into the air. The others joined it, wheeling into formation and vanishing into the sky.
—
"Let's go, Miggs," Fiona said, lifting the reins. The mare moved forward, passing the empty fencepost.
Sunny watched the sky. "Do you think they'll keep following us?"
"I believe they will," Fiona replied. "They're curious creatures. And they remember." Fiona was uneasy as she watched the ravens flying in lazy circles in the morning sunshine. Someone was clearly watching her. She suspected who it might be, she hoped against hope it wasn't him!
The cart crested the hill. Fiona pointed ahead. "There it is—Thornegate."
Sunny looked just over Miggs' head, where a stately Georgian manor perched amidst a sea of emerald. Built from dun-colored stone, it was surrounded by outbuildings of varying sizes nearby. Sunny grinned and looked at Fiona. "Oh, it's lovely! Like right out of a Jane Austen novel."
Thankfully, Fiona had managed to redirect Sunny's attention to the manor. Yes, the ravens were still going to be a presence, but if Sunny did not actively pursue the creatures, then perhaps she would be able to send her request for them to leave Sunny alone. "It's a rambling estate, some 250 acres of pasture, woods, and such."
As they sat admiring the estate, they first heard hoofbeats and then saw a rider on a stunning dapple-grey Vanner Cob. Fiona waved as the rider approached, leaning toward Sunny to say, "That is Hugh O'Donnell."
The rider guided the stallion around, and it arched its neck proudly, lifting its heavily fringed feet as it moved parallel to the pasture fence. "Hullo!"
The stallion nodded its head up and down, the long, thick mane billowing like a cloud of white smoke. The rider patted the well-muscled neck affectionately.
"Hello, Hugh!" Fiona called back, Miggs also bugled her greeting, and Hugh laughed, "And a fine good morning to you and you too, Miggs!" Hugh reined in his mount and trotted down to an opening in the fence. "On we go, Miggsy!" Fiona replied, lifting the reins slightly. Miggs didn't need encouragement; she moved down the track to where Hugh and the dappled-gray stallion waited. Hugh leaned over and pulled the gate open, and it swung wide to let Miggs and the cart into the enclosed pasture.
Hugh latched the gate and moved his horse up beside the cart near Fiona. "Mother's up in the tea garden; she's expecting you."
"Hugh, this is my great-niece. Siobhan O'Neil."
Hugh turned his hazel-green eyes toward her, and a slow smile spread across his face, showing even white teeth. "Sunny, I've heard so much about you from your Aunt Fiona that I feel I already know you."
Sunny smiled back, blushing charmingly. The effect on Hugh was clear. He shifted his horse to the side and beside the cart to come closer to Sunny. He took off his brown riding glove and leaned over. "Welcome to Thornegate."
Sunny took his hand. "Thank you, your home is lovely."
The stallion nickered and stamped his foot, muscles rippling beneath his grey and white coat. "And this bold chap is Greystoke," Hugh said.
"He is magnificent!" Sunny said. "I'd love to draw him!"
Hugh leaned over and whispered conspiratorially behind his hand, "Don't make over him too much; he's already got an impossible ego!"
Greystoke seemed to agree, nodding his shaggy head up and down and pawing the green sod.
Fiona clucked to Miggs, and they headed toward the side of the manor house. "How is your mother, Hugh?"
Hugh tore his eyes away from Sunny to look at Fiona. "Oh? Yes, mother is much better. Your special blends have been a Godsend."
I've brought something a little different; something that should regain her appetite.
Hugh looked sad for a moment, then turned to Sunny and said, "Mother is recuperating from chemotherapy, and the treatments nearly killed her."
His lips tightened, and his face looked strained. Sunny noticed the look and pointed toward the stables. "Aunt Fiona says you raise the finest horses in Ireland. I'd love to see them someday when you have the time."
Hugh shook his head as if to clear it and smiled over at Sunny. "I think that would be a very good idea, Sunny. Do you ride?"
It was Sunny's turn to look sad, then she shook her head. "I've been on horseback a few times, but not really enough to say I'm accomplished."
"Well," Hugh said, brushing his sandy brown hair back from his forehead. "I shall have to remedy that as soon as possible."
Fiona drove the cart into the courtyard. The horses' hooves clip-clopped over the cobblestones and echoed off the stone outbuildings. In front were the open double doors leading into the car garage, and far to the left, a wide road led to the stables. A young man trotted out of the garage, where an older man was working on a tractor parked in the largest bay. He took hold of Greystoke's halter and slipped him a treat to keep the big stallion occupied while Hugh dismounted.
Sunny realized she was staring at Hugh and turned her attention to Fiona, who was searching for her satchel for the right packet and bottle. She took out a tall, slender, amethyst-colored bottle and placed it into her jacket pocket. Then she pulled a small brown paper sack, rolled and tied with twine, from her satchel and put it in her skirt pocket before climbing down from the cart. Sunny followed, turning to Hugh for guidance. From somewhere nearby, he produced a dark brown cane with a brass horse head and ruby-eyed jewels. He tucked the cane close to his injured leg and moved aside to let the boy guide Miggs to the shade of the paddock to graze.
Sunny moved closer to Hugh and reached up to stroke Greystoke's neck. "Up close he's even more majestic," she whispered, and the stallion lowered his head, turning his nose and the broad side of his head toward her and breathing in her scent. "Looks like you've made a friend," Hugh murmured, and Sunny looked up at him, their eyes meeting.
A strange feeling washed over Sunny, and tears suddenly pricked her eyes. Hugh was still wounded and vulnerable. She seemed to sense his anxiety and pain. Then she heard Jason's voice ringing in her ears, "Oh, grow up, Sunny! Guys aren't the noble knights you think they are —you turn on that wide-eyed look, and they will eat you up and move on to the next little girl!"
Hugh cleared his throat and stepped aside as the boy came to take Greystoke and tether him to the post where he could easily graze on the tender grass.
Fiona didn't miss the look they exchanged. She looked amused at the two of them and moved toward the gate leading to the tea garden. "Come, children!" she called softly.
Sunny had to laugh, which made Hugh chuckle. "Hardly children, Aunt Fiona!"
"When you get to be my age, everyone is a child!" Fiona replied. She opened the gate and held it for Sunny and Hugh. To Sunny, the tea garden was like the 'Secret Garden,' with sweet-smelling herbs and roses that grew in well-tended beds. As they walked along the narrow brick path, Sunny ran her hands over the lavender that grew on either side.
Lady Margaret was sitting in the shade of a pergola with a twining rose climbing up and overhead. She sat in a comfortable glider rocking gently, eyes closed, and face turned up to the filtered sunlight.
"Good to see you taking my advice," Fiona called by way of greeting.
Lady Margaret was a slender woman with amazingly blue eyes that twinkled merrily as she spotted Fiona. "Oh, Fiona dear, I'm so glad to see you!" She looked past Fiona. "And you've brought your great-niece; good!"
Fiona drew Sunny up beside her. "Lady Margaret, may I present Siobhan O'Neil?"
Margaret reached her hands out to Sunny and drew her to sit on the glider beside her. "I'm so happy to meet you, my dear."
Sunny smiled warmly at Lady Margaret, glancing at Fiona. "Thank you, I've been made very welcome to Ballencoo."
Margaret looked to Hugh, where he stood looking out of place. "Hugh, will you join us for some lemonade?"
Fiona shook her head. "No, these children have plans to look over the stables, isn't that right, Hugh?"
Hugh smiled lopsidedly at Fiona, then at his mother. "Yes, that's the way of it, Mother."
Margaret sighed and patted Sunny's hand. "Don't let Hugh keep you all to himself; come back and visit before you have to leave."
"I will," Sunny promised. She got up and smiled at Hugh. "Shall we?"
Hugh bowed, "After you, milady."
Sunny grinned and moved up the path with Hugh following. When they reached the courtyard, she turned to him as he closed the gate. "I'm just going to collect my sketchbook."
"Have you been drawing a lot?" Hugh asked, following her.
She reached under the seat of the cart, rummaged through her duffle bag, and found a new book, mentally deciding to only sketch Thornegate and the horses. She found her case of pencils and took two out, tucking one behind her ear for a reserve. "The last few semesters I didn't do any sketching, and after graduation, I began again. I hadn't realized how much I had missed it."
"Fiona said you were going to begin working for an advertising agency in the States," Hugh said, walking with Sunny toward the stables.
"I don't know now," Sunny replied. "All my plans sort of evaporated on me."
Hugh barked a bitter-sounding laugh. "I know what you mean. Never planned for an IED to make a mess of my leg and send Christine running back to Robert ---"
Sunny turned to Hugh as he broke off and stared at the ground. "Sorry, Sunny, you don't want to hear my tale of woe."
"Seems like we've both come home to recover from the ---slings and arrows of our fortune?" She said softly.
Hugh chuckled, the shadows of pain clearing from his eyes. "I'm glad you've come to Ballencoo, Sunny."
Together they strolled through the stables and looked in on a mare and her newborn colt. Sunny sketched and listened while Hugh explained his plans to raise more of the Vanner Cobs and Drum horses. "Does Tully come?" Sunny asked lightly.
"He does," Hugh said, leaning on the stable door and admiring the little black-and-white colt. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with my horses. He has a good way with them." He looked over at Sunny. "Why? You are hearing tales?"
Sunny nodded. "They were talking in the pub last night about the Gypsies."
Hugh frowned and moved away from the stall. "I wouldn't put much credence in what old sots say in a pub."
"No," Sunny said, following him out into the sunshine of the paddock where several horses stood munching the sweet grass. "It's hard to believe that in this day and time, stories like that still circulate."
"Well, some of them are true," Hugh replied with a sigh, "But one bad apple doesn't necessarily spoil the whole barrel."
"Do the Gypsies come here?" She asked.
Hugh smiled, "Potential subject matter for your pencils?"
Sunny laughed and nodded. "Well, the idea does call up the romance and mystery of a Gypsy caravan."
"Aye, they are a unique people," Hugh said. "Damn, fine horse breeders. I plan to do a little horse trading when the caravan comes through in the next couple of weeks."
"During the festival?"
"Aye, they come in and set up camp for a week or two here on Thornegate, in Ballencoo Wood and around town."
"You mean the family lands between Ian McTavish and Aunt Fiona?" Sunny asked with a surprised look on her face. "I can't imagine that happening!"
Hugh angled a look of mock dismay at her. "Why, Miss O'Neil, you belong to Tuatha de Dannan --- one of the oldest clans in all of Ireland – I find it hard to believe you don't know about the Dannan pact!"
Sunny put her pencil behind her other ear and feigned outrage, "Well, if that's true, I'm thinking you ought to be showing proper respect!"
Hugh burst out laughing, with Sunny giggling with him. Their laughter reached Fiona and Lady Margaret, with the latter pressing a hand to her bosom in relief. "Oh, Fiona, listen! It's a miracle! I haven't heard my son laugh in such a long time!"
"Yes," Fiona responded, smiling contentedly. "I believe that's the gift Sunny has that's all her own."
Margaret turned to Fiona, a look of surprise on her face. "Do you think she will stay?"
"That I cannot say," Fiona interrupted. "But I hope she will return one day."
"Oh, I hope so," Margaret whispered, then smiled as happy laughter drifted to the tea garden in the gentle breeze. "I do hope so."
#
"Sunny, you know, you've been sketching madly there for some time," Hugh told her. "When are you going to let me see what you've been doing?"
She turned her head one way, then the other, appraising her work, then glanced at him. "Well okay, I guess I can give you a look."
"Bless ye!" Hugh sighed with a glance heavenward. She handed him the sketchbook. "I don't think I caught the whole of it, but with a little tweaking --"
"I'd say it was genius to be able to do this from memory, Sunny!" Hugh said, cutting her off. "This is wonderful!"
She smiled. "What do you think of your portrait?"
Hugh smiled at the sketch of himself. "He's a rather tense sort of bloke, but maybe he's got promise."
Sunny nodded, "Strong bone, proud stance and ----"
"You sound like you're describing a horse!" Hugh laughed, showing even white teeth, then sobered as he met her clear green gaze with an almost defiant look. "And handsome?"
"Yes, Hugh O'Donnell," Sunny replied with an equally determined look on her face, "And handsome." A slow smile spread over his face. He dipped his head into his shoulder to smother the foolish grin and coughed lightly. "Well now," he said as he gazed out over the paddock fence, "you won't be surprised if I come calling, will you, Siobhan O'Neil?"
She laughed, feeling strangely empowered by the reaction she was having on this man. She had never felt in charge of herself and confident as she stood next to Hugh O'Donnell. Fiona appeared and waved. "Come, my dear, we've other stops to make!"
"Off to see Fiona's other patients?" Hugh murmured as they both looked toward the garden gate where Fiona waited.
"Patients?" Sunny repeated, a slight frown knitting her brows together.
Hugh handed the sketchbook back to Sunny. "You didn't know?
"She called them clients, but it does make sense now," Sunny replied. Together they walked to the paddock where Miggs waited with the cart.
"Aye, Fiona travels all around the county tending to us." Hugh turned and whistled up to the grooms' apartment. "Mister Poole, our guests are leaving!"
The young boy poked his head out of the door and waved acknowledgment. In a few seconds, he came bounding down the stairs and trotted over to collect Miggs and the cart.
Sunny handed her sketchbook to Fiona. "I'm just going to go tell Lady Margaret goodbye."
Fiona nodded and turned to Hugh. "You and Sunny get acquainted?"
Hugh watched Sunny disappear through the garden gate, leaned over to give Fiona a fond hug, and leaned close to whisper in her ear. "Thank you."
She looked up at him and smiled. "Come to see us, Hugh; I'm sure Sunny will be glad to see you."
Sunny appeared at the gate and trotted over to the cart where Fiona and Hugh stood. Hugh pulled down the step and offered a hand to Fiona, who climbed up into the cart with Sunny following with Hugh's help. Fiona gathered up the reins. "On we go, Miggsy!"
"Bye!" Sunny called Hugh, waving as the cart rolled away.
Hugh waved back with a huge grin on his face.
"She's a right pretty lady, isn't she, sir?"
Hugh looked over at Chris Poole and smiled. "She is, indeed, Mr. Poole."
"Might be you've taken to the lady?" Chris Poole asked with a grin and a wink.
Hugh feigned a scowl and swung at the boy with his cane, only to realize he had left it back at the stable. He did not need it! The pain had somehow faded from his leg and back during his time with Sunny. Now that she was gone, the dull throbbing ache that was with him all the time began to seep back into the damaged nerves and muscles of his thigh and calf.
"Get on with ye!" Hugh growled at Poole, "And fetch my cane!"
Poole chuckled good-naturedly and trotted off to find the cane.
Fiona made several more stops at cottages, and each time, Sunny was introduced to each man or woman along the way. Each stop included a mention of Fiona's grandmother and how striking Sunny's resemblance to the great woman was. As they traveled back toward town and Laurel Cottage, Sunny asked about Siobhan Dannan. "Was grandmother a medicine woman like you, Aunt Fiona?"
Fiona drew a deep breath and held it for a moment, then smiled at Sunny as she released her breath. "Aye, she was a medicine woman, as you say. It's an old tradition to have a village healer."
"Hugh said I belonged to the --Tuatha de Dannan."
Fiona bit her bottom lip. That boy! She chuckled softly. "We're hardly a tribal kingdom anymore, but the Dannan clan is descended from the ancient people of Ireland."
"And the Dannan Pact?" Sunny asked.
"Hugh gave you a tour around some ancient history, did he?" Fiona asked with a light laugh.
Sunny chuckled. "Only in passing."
Fiona nodded. "Well, as for the Dannan pact, there is an understanding with the chieftain of the tribe that has been traveling to Ballencoo since time immemorial," Fiona explained. "They come twice—sometimes three times a year—to trade, visit, settle debts and disagreements, make marriage contracts, and the like. Thornegate was an ancient meeting place—it has been for hundreds and hundreds of years. The owners of Thornegate struck a deal with the tribe that for as long as the sun rises and sets, they would have a place to meet."
"And the Ballencoo Wood?"
"The chieftain and his descendants are forever reserved a place of rest from their travels in Ballencoo Wood, but only those who follow the old way," Fiona said.
Miggs quickened her pace as they approached a gray stone bridge. "Make a wish, my dear!" Fiona told her. "We're about to cross the Trickle!"
The cart rattled over the stones, and Miggs' hooves clattered hollowly along the dirt-covered track. Sunny closed her eyes and made a wish: that all the sadness would vanish like clouds on a summer day.
Whether real or imagined, Sunny felt the shadows of sadness lift from her heart, drifting away as she grew happy. Fiona seemed to understand her thoughts and smiled. "Welcome home!"
Sunny inhaled the earth's cozy warmth and smiled. "I do feel at home; it's such a happy feeling!"
Fiona lifted the reins. "On we go, Miggsy!"
Miggs tossed her shaggy head, picked up her pace, and they rolled down the road toward Laurel Cottage.
Sunny smiled up into the canopy of trees, and for a moment, she thought she saw something moving along the branches of the oak and fir trees. She blinked and looked back over her shoulder as they passed beneath the overhanging limbs. "Aunt Fiona ---."
Fiona looked up and then gently eased the reins higher to urge Miggs to pick up her pace. "Oh, there are all kinds of animals running around the woods," Fiona said. "Squirrels as big as can be!"
Sunny looked up into the trees and then shook off the thought that she had seen strange creatures like spider monkeys swinging through the branches.
They continued riding, and the road curved to reveal Laurel Cottage. The house was not technically a 'cottage,' but rather a large two-story structure made of stone and white lime plaster, with a bright blue door that shone out from the dark, mossy green stone alcove. Ivy nearly covered the lower part of one side of the house, while graceful canes of sweet-smelling roses climbed around the entrance. Bright blue flower boxes with cascading yellow and orange flowers sat below the large lead-glass windows. Two smaller wings extended from each side of the main house. They rode through the flowering vine-covered arched gate into the cobblestone courtyard. Miggs headed toward her stable and stopped at the water trough, dipping her head to sip water.
"Well, here we are!" announced Fiona. "Let's go in and have a bite, shall we?"
"Should we do something with Miggs?" Sunny asked, looking at the horse.
I'll come out shortly and settle Miggsy," Fiona said with a wave of her hand. "Let's get inside, and I'll show you around the place.
Fiona apparently didn't think she needed to lock her house and just opened the blue door, stepping inside with Sunny behind her, carrying her backpack.
A small entrance hall had a hall tree for scarves and coats. Sunny's trunks and luggage were stacked neatly. "Good, the boys delivered your things," Fiona replied. "I think we can take what you need upstairs and store the rest under the stairs."
Sunny looked to the right and saw into the parlor. It had comfortable chairs and tables with oil lamps placed in several spots. The house smelled fresh, like cedar and lavender. Large panel doors led to a dining room, and beyond the parlor was a library and study filled with books along three walls. The kitchen was behind the dining room, spacious and airy with granite countertops. Back at the main entrance, the stairs went up to the second floor.
Sunny pointed to the door at the opposite end of the cottage. "What's through that door?
Fiona looked at the big wooden door and nodded. "Come, I'll show you," Fiona said, guiding to the left side of the house. She opened the door and stepped back so Sunny could go in before her.
Sunny stepped into a small alcove, then moved into the large room. "Oh my!" Sunny exclaimed. In the center of the room was a stone worktable with an assortment of marble mortars and pestles in various colors and sizes. Hanging from hooks in the rafters were bundles of drying herbs and plants. Shelves on two walls, from floor to ceiling, held all sorts of white crockery jars with hinged lids and dark blue and red glass bottles sealed with corks and beeswax. It was an extensive apothecary! A shelf spanning the room held dozens of thick, leather-bound books, each with Roman numerals printed on its spine.
"My goodness!" Sunny whispered in awe, "This is fantastic, Aunt Fiona!"
Fiona looked around the room, her eyes resting on various items on the shelves and worktables. "For generations, the Dannan women have been mixing and dispensing medicines to the folk in the area around Ballencoo," Fiona replied. She glanced around again. Her eyes settled on all the objects before she looked back at Sunny. "You called me earlier, a medicine woman," Fiona said, sitting on the stool across from Sunny. She placed her hands on the worktable and absentmindedly touched and straightened the pestle in each mortar, so they lined up in the same direction. "The Dannan women have been healers for many, many generations. In ancient days, they were called wise women, called 'Cailleach feasa' to outsiders; 'witches'."
"Witches?" Sunny repeated. "Really?"
Fiona answered with a disapproving frown. "It's the first thing most people think of ---those idiots running around naked in a circle on high feasts and holy days!"
Sunny laughed nervously at the images her imagination conjured up. "No broomsticks and black cats, I trust?"
"A broom to sweep the floor and a cat or two to keep the mice out of my pantry and garden shed," Fiona remarked, then turned and reached for a leather book, handing it over to Sunny. "Each of us has kept meticulous records of illness and cures, new plants and new mutations to diseases and new cures."
Sunny opened the book to the middle and was amazed at the detail on the yellowed pages. Botanical drawings and detailed notes sat alongside what looked like recipes for medicines. "Where is your journal, Aunt Fiona?"
Fiona grabbed one of the last journals from the shelf and handed it to Sunny. When she opened it, she found similar entries, drawings, and notes about plants and names of people she was giving medicine to. The drawings were quite good, and she glanced at Fiona. "These are wonderful! You never mentioned your drawing skills!"
"Passable," Fiona answered.
"All this," Sunny said, raising her hand to point at the apothecary, "is the reason why Mama kept what you do such a secret?"
"She wasn't easy about having you come here," Fiona replied. "But you were so upset by Jason's -"
Sunny raised a restraining hand to stop Fiona from talking further. "Yes, I know, and I understand all of that – Mama's been tiptoeing around something for years, and even after everything that's happened – she suddenly changes her mind, and it's okay for me to be here with you."
Fiona looked into Sunny's eyes for a long moment. "There is more," she said, but she didn't say anything else. She pressed her lips into a tight line and clasped her hands just as tightly.
Sunny sighed heavily and lowered her head to stare at her own hands, clenched together in white-knuckled fists. "I know; Mama made you promise."
"Aye," Fiona whispered.
Sunny nodded, completely disgruntled with her mother and Fiona. She inhaled the minty sweet smell of the apothecary and let out a deep sigh. "Okay, I'm not going to press you," she said, then gave her great-aunt a sly look. "Any other secrets I should know about?"
"Oh aye," Fiona responded solemnly. "There's all manner of secrets locked away in my heart."
That made Sunny laugh and Fiona smile. "For another day, perhaps." She took the journals and placed them back in their slots on the shelf. "Let's get you settled in and have a bite to eat! I'm hungry!"
Fiona took Sunny upstairs and showed her to her room. The room was bright, with high whitewashed plaster ceilings and dark, heavy exposed beams. After a few trips, Sunny had all her smaller bags upstairs and the contents of her trunk in her bedroom. As she put away her clothes in the closet and stored other shirts and undergarments in the chest of drawers, she listened downstairs in the kitchen to Fiona humming softly to herself and making the usual noises of food being prepared.
Sunny sat on the bed and looked around. She pulled up her carryall and took out her cell phone. When she tried to turn it on, it was completely dead. She scanned the wall and saw there were no electrical outlets anywhere. There were sconces in various spots, near the door, and one near the bed and closet. Each was designed to safely hold a small kerosene- or oil-burning lamp. When the kettle began to whistle, Sunny abandoned her unpacking and went down to the kitchen. They ate the food Cassie had packed, and Fiona added a few things, including sliced cucumbers and crisp lettuce. They ate in the kitchen, where the conversation soon returned to Sunny's mother.
"Did you and Mama ever try to talk about — you know — all of this?"
Fiona stirred her tea slowly, adding milk from a small cow-shaped pitcher. How was she to answer? As she was debating a way to dissemble, she looked over at Sunny and decided against it. "I tried to talk to her when she came home when Colleen passed away, but she was too upset to hear anything I had to say. I was upset about losing Colleen, too, so neither one of us could talk."
"The distance between you two is more than just logistics," Sunny murmured with a frown creasing her brow. She looked back up at Fiona and grinned. "But I'm glad she never stopped me from getting to know you."
Fiona nodded. "Me too. I am all the family Maire and her sisters have. I never got to know Erin or Brianna the way I wanted. It might have been different, but Colleen was determined to keep them well away from here and this life."
Sunny looked around, confused about why her mother and aunts wouldn't want to see where their family came from. "Did grandmother ever come home once she left?" Sunny asked.
"Many times," Fiona said. "But she would never stay too long." Fiona began collecting the cups. The conversation was over.
Sunny observed Fiona and noticed the tension in her. "Okay, Aunt Fiona; truce –for now."
"Bless you, child," Fiona replied.
"I'm going to finish unpacking," Sunny replied. "Then why don't you let me do a few sketches of you?"
"Let's go into the garden," Fiona said. "The light is good out there in the late afternoon."
Sunny smiled and went upstairs.
Fiona started washing the few dishes in the sink and looked out the window to see a small figure standing in the shadows, perched on a low tree limb. "For heaven's sake, don't let her see you!" Fiona whispered. "There'll be more questions than I want to deal with right now if she does!"
Like a wisp of smoke, the figure appeared to fade away. Fiona let out a sigh of relief and returned to washing the dishes.
Fiona sat reading a book of sonnets in the soft afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees while Sunny busily worked in her sketchbook. Completely absorbed in her work, she didn't notice the wildlife in the garden until Fiona whispered, "Sunny, look there – a vixen and her kits."
Sunny paused and slowly turned her head in the direction Fiona nodded, then saw the bright red fox and three tiny versions of the adult step into the open yard of the garden. The vixen looked at the humans and then softly barked to her kits, who rolled and tumbled playfully with each other. They moved across the yard and back into the forest.
That's why I keep my chickens in a coop," Fiona remarked. "I wouldn't have one chicken if I let them range in the open. She pointed to Sunny's sketchbook. "When can I see what you've been working on?"
Sunny tucked her sketch pencil behind her ear and turned the page toward Fiona. "What do you think?"
Fiona gasped; with just a few pencils, Sunny had created what looked like a black-and-white photograph – so realistic that she thought the portrait of herself might move any second. "Amazing!"
Sunny grinned. "Thanks, Aunt Fiona – I've missed this part of my art a lot. I'm happy that I can devote my time to brushing up on the skills."
Fiona smiled. "I always knew you were going to be an artist."
"Really?"
"Aye," Fiona replied. "I'll have to find my box of your drawings. I've kept every one of them."
"Wow," Sunny murmured. "Everyone, huh?"
"Your namesake – my mother – was quite the artist too," Fiona said. "You can see some of her drawings in her journal."
"You know I'm going to have to pull my weight around here," Sunny told her. "What kind of things could I help you with?" Sunny asked, folding her sketchbook and putting her pencils in the metal tin case.
"Well, with it being spring, there are several plants and the like that need harvesting," Fiona said. "Plenty of preparations to make for the coming ailments. They come to me to treat the animals too."
"So, you're the vet and the doctor in these parts?"
"Aye," Fiona said. "Not many will seek out an outside doctor or veterinary."
"Except Lady Margaret," Sunny said. "Why did they go outside Ballencoo?"
"It was Hugh who urged his mother to see an outside physician," Fiona said. "She went for his sake."
"He seemed to have had a change of heart with respect to his opinion of doctors," Sunny said. "I could see it in his face when he talked about the chemotherapy treatments."
"Hugh was determined to have what he thought was the best care for his mother," Fiona said.
Sunny heard the edge of disapproval in Fiona's voice as she spoke. She couldn't find fault in the woman's assessment, but she felt the disapproval extended beyond Colleen. "What happened?" Sunny asked.
"He left home and stayed away for a long time, but after his accident and his mother's illness, he is seeing life in a whole new way. He has an appreciation for life that he did not have before."
"Was Christine from Ballencoo?" Sunny asked.
"Christine?" Fiona shook her head. "Heavens no, Christine was from London, worlds away from Hugh and his life at Thornegate."
"She hurt him deeply," Sunny murmured. "I could feel it." She leaned forward and stared at the toes of her sneakers. As she studied the miniature world, she caught the enticing scent of warm earth and the sweetness of the grass beneath her feet. The blades of grass were so green that it felt as if they were pulling her into the color.
The Raven Prince paused mid-drink. The tavern's laughter dulled around him. He felt it—like a tremor in the blood. Pain. Not his own. Hers. The men sitting at the table paused their conversation. It was unusual for the Prince to become so quiet while drinking. When the Prince realized he had attracted curious looks from his drinking companions, he tossed a handful of coins onto the table. "Enjoy the rest of the evening; I've got work to do!"
He left the tavern and quickly slipped into the shadows. Once he was out of sight of prying eyes, he looked up into the trees. Sitting silently was the raven. "Show me!"
Fiona studied Sunny closely for a moment before she continued; something had shifted in the young woman as she sat there. "Hugh tried to be someone he wasn't," Fiona replied. "When he found Christine, he was trying to live in a reality he had manufactured for himself. He had changed himself on the outside to blend in – in the hopes he would blend in with the people he surrounded himself with. Hugh changed his philosophy, morals, and ideals to fit in. It was contrary to everything he truly was. He was willing to give himself up to fit into the world Christine lived in. When he stepped on that bomb, it shattered more than his leg – it shattered the world Hugh was living in."
The Prince cut off the connection with the raven. "Why this?" he growled. "Why another man's pain?"
The raven blinked. "Also yours!"
The Prince turned away, but the ache surged back—like a tide against stone. He had buried it. But she had unearthed it.
"He woke up from the dream spell cast over him," Sunny murmured.
Fiona leaned forward, sensing Sunny's sudden shift. "Aye, the truth had always been there; Hugh just wasn't willing to see it as it was — had he been honest with himself, he would have seen the truth."
Tears welled in Sunny's eyes, blurring the vibrant green of the grass that captivated her. A single tear trembled in her eyelashes, and as she closed her eyes, it dropped to the ground, landing on a blade of grass like a tiny droplet of dew.
Whatever Fiona was expecting passed; Sunny wiped her face with the back of her hand and looked up at Fiona. "I know how Hugh feels, and I know Mama and Daddy are worried about me, but when I speak to them again, I'm going to tell them that I'm going to be all right."
"You've found forgiveness?" Fiona asked.
"It will be a long time before I forget what Maya and Jason did. I've forgiven myself," Sunny said quietly. "That's the part I didn't expect. I thought healing meant forgetting. But it doesn't. It means choosing to live anyway. And I am moving on beyond that. Hugh's got to do the same – I think he's started to heal by throwing himself into his horses. I've got to do the same — coming here will help me heal and move into my own destiny."
Fiona felt her heart lurch with a kind of horrible resolution.
#
Sunny carried her small oil lamp up to her bedroom and carefully placed it in the sconce bracket by the door. She then moved to the nightstand and picked up her cell phone. "You're out of place here, so I think it's time to put you into storage for now."
Fiona made a face. "I'm sorry, my dear, but most electronic things don't seem to work this far in the woods. That's why I never bothered to put in modern wiring."
Sunny looked at the cell phone's dark screen, then at Fiona. "Well, it doesn't matter – I can live without it."
"When you do need to contact the outside world, you can try the library. Erin Corrigan will help you." Fiona replied, "The library is the one place that tries to have an outside connection for when the tourists visit."
Where's the library anyway?" Sunny asked. "I'd like to send an email to the reference librarian who helped me order the books on Ireland for me."
"It's one street over from Cluny's," Fiona said. "Right across the street from the post office, which reminds me, I haven't been in to collect the mail in a while."
"Maybe next time you go into town," Sunny said, "I'll go and just wander around and soak up the town."
Fiona nodded, "And maybe see if the tribes have arrived?"
Sunny laughed. "No flies on you! Yes, I'd love to sketch them and maybe the caravans."
They're a bit particular about letting folks get too close," Fiona replied. "Most of the time, with good reason.
"I'll be respectful," Sunny replied.
Aye, I know," Fiona answered. She paused to glance at her reflection in the dressing mirror in Sunny's room and tucked a strand of hair back into place. "Time for my bath. I'll stop back before I go to bed, then you can bathe. Everything is there for you, dearie!"
Sunny nodded and watched Fiona walk down the hall and disappear behind the bathroom door. She heard the water running and Fiona humming softly. She finished unpacking. One of the last things was a box her mother had packed for her. Inside was a package of peppermints and a package of Hershey's Kisses. She found several packages of drawing pencils, which Sunny picked up and put in her backpack with her other art supplies.
The sweets were kept in the trunk at the foot of her bed. She was about to close it when she decided to store her digital camera safely in the bottom compartment of the trunk with her cell phone. As she closed and latched the trunk, she suddenly felt a sense of freedom.
Fiona passed Sunny's bedroom on her way to her own. "I'll see you in the morning. I left the lamp in the hall for you. When you finish your bath, turn out the lamp. Good night, Sunny."
"Good night, Aunt Fiona, sweet dreams," Sunny called to her great aunt, then padded down to the bathroom to take her bath. She drew up a nice warm bath and sank into the soothing lavender-scented water, closed her eyes, let the day soak in, and began to let the past slip away into the evening.
She dressed in pajamas, and as she headed out of the bathroom, she turned the ornate key in the oil lamp, closed the lid, and snuffed out the light. She padded down the hall to her bedroom. She settled under the covers and stared up at the ceiling. The scent of lavender and cedar sent her to sleep. She dreamed of deep green fields and a soft pink pearl moon that rose along with a larger violet moon. It was beautiful!