Читать книгу THE BETTER PART OF VALOR - Morgan Mackinnon - Страница 16

Chapter 9

The distance between Dublin and Carlow was about fifty-five miles and by train would take one and a half hours. They wanted to catch the first train out, since that was at 8:30 a.m., and because they’d stayed out rather late the evening before taking in some musical theater, there was no time to have breakfast at the hotel. As it was, they barely had time for the carriage attendant to heave their trunks to the train platform and load them while Myles bought two one-way tickets to Carlow. Driver duly tipped, they squeezed on board just as the train whistle was sounding departure.

The train was about half occupied, so it wasn’t difficult to find seats together, and once outside Dublin, Cresta marveled how fresh, clean, and green everything was. As soon as she and Myles knew each other better, she intended to see if she could find out just why he wanted to spend his life in the plains of the United States where it was dry, dusty, and contained hostile Indians looking to lift scalps…when he could be enjoying life as a gentleman here. She remembered he’d said there was something missing in his life, but this country would be awfully difficult to turn away from.

As the train progressed toward Carlow, Myles began pointing out various locations to her that played a part in his life. The hill in the distance where he and his brothers staged pony races when young. The tranquil River Barrow. The lane where he once kissed Mathilda O’Dell. Then as they came into Carlow, there was the Browneshill Dolmen, which is a megalithic portal tomb, the remains of Carlow Castle built in the early thirteenth century by William Marshall, and the magnificent Carlow Cathedral which was much more recent, having been built in 1833. Cresta especially wanted to see the dolmen as well as the castle ruins, and Myles promised faithfully he would bring her back for a personal tour. He also mentioned his college, St. Mary’s Knockbeg, was just to the north of Carlow and he wanted her to see it as well. Frankly, Cresta wanted to know more about Miss Mathilda O’Dell but did not ask.

At the Carlow train station was a big bear of a man waiting to hug his brother and then catch Cresta up in his arms and smack her soundly on the cheek. Myles laughed and said, “Cresta, this friendly rascal is my brother, Tom. Tom, may I present Missus Cresta Leigh?”

When she could draw breath, Cresta laughed. Tom was a good bit heavier than his brother, but they clearly had the same eyes.

“I’m very pleased to meet you. I must apologize in advance for intruding on you with no warning. I planned to visit relatives in Dublin, only to find they are no longer there. I do not know how I would have managed without the assistance of your brother.”

“Ah, my little brother has always had an eye for a pretty lady! Did I hear aright you are a Missus?”

“Guilty. But I’m a widow.”

“You are not intruding in the least. Let us get your trunks loaded in the carriage. I’m thinking you will be hungry, and my Alice is making a big lunch.”

The carriage was more like a box wagon with two bench seats in the front and a cargo area to the rear which is where the trunks were stowed. But rather than climbing up beside his brother in the front seat, Myles helped Cresta into the second seat and then seated himself beside her. As the horses drew the carriage through Carlow and out into the countryside, Myles absentmindedly put his arm around her as he pointed out the places where he’d grown up. This part of Ireland was so idyllic, and every time she exclaimed over a landmark, Myles promised they would come back later and he would show it all to her, one attraction at a time.

Reached by a long, winding drive, Orchard House was a large, sturdy manor built out of stone and then plastered and painted white. Utilitarian in nature on the outside, there was a large wooden front door with windows on each side. It was a two-story building as was the barn and both were surrounded by smaller buildings, a little graveled courtyard, and a lush green lawn running from the house down to the main roadway.

As soon as the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on gravel was heard, the door flew open and two women ran out. One was a healthy handful of a woman with thick brown hair; the other was younger and still had her slender waist and willowy body. Cresta could have guessed the ample lady with twinkling eyes was Tom’s wife, Alice.

Of course, both ladies immediately threw their collective arms around Myles, squealing and crying. After they had turned him around a few times to make sure he was all in one piece and had not been wounded, they turned their attentions to the young lady.

Myles took Cresta’s hand. “Cresta? This lady is my dear sister-in-law, Alice Keogh, who does a fantastic job keeping track of my big brother. The colleen here is my sister Margaret. Dear family? This is Missus Cresta Leigh from Virginia. We met on the ship coming over.”

Cresta held out her hands to the women. “I’m so glad to meet you. Myles has told me so much about you. I’m grateful you were willing to have me as a guest with no notice. I know how much you look forward to visits from your brother and do not wish to intrude.”

Assuring her she would be no trouble at all, the family called over some farm hands to wrestle the trunks up to the bedrooms. Tom would organize the effort. Myles and Cresta must be tired and needed to freshen up. Lunch was nearly ready. Go on now, shoo.

Once Alice and Margaret were alone, they made their observations.

“Did you hear Myles introduce her as a missus? That means she’s married. Or she’s a widow. We’ll find out. She’s quite pretty but not very sturdy-looking. If he marries her, she may not be able to have healthy sons. Hips are too narrow. Did you see the color of her eyes? How odd. She must have money if she can travel all over the place. Do you think they’re serious? He did take her hand. He’s never brought any women here before. Oh, we can’t wait to tell Ell and Fan!”

Once the trunks were upstairs, Tom came back into the dining room where Alice was laying out plates and napkins. She looked up with a teasing expression.

“Where did you put them then?”

Tom coughed. “I gave Myles his old room, the one he usually stays in. Where else?”

Alice put her hands on her hips. “I mean, my Lovaduck, where did you put the lady?”

“Oh. Well, the room next door was fresh made up last week, so thinking I was to save you some work, I put her there.”

“You old scamp. You know as well as I do something is going on here. Your wee brother has never brought a woman with him when he’s come to visit. Do you suppose…?”

Tom turned red. “Ah, Alice, do not be suspecting your own brother-in-law of making free and loose with a poor widow woman. He’s a better Catholic than that.”

“I like her. She’s quite pretty and would be a good match for our Myles. He needs a levelheaded woman to tame him down a bit.”

“We will see. Well, woman, is our lunch ready?”

Alice was pleased. She so far knew their female guest was a widow and she had Tom’s opinion there was no hanky-panky going on. Men were not terribly perceptive when it came to matters of the heart, though, so she and Mag would have to keep their eyes open. Why, some men didn’t even realize they were getting married until their wedding night.

Before they had time to say more, a small trap with horse pulled into the drive and Cresta got to meet Ellen and Fanny. Margaret had already told Cresta to call her Mag; Ellen and Fanny were Ell and Fan. The girls were very similar—same bodies, same hair, same blue eyes. Fan was very friendly, but Cresta thought Ell to be a bit distant until she learned the girl was mourning the loss of her fiancé just a month earlier. Tensions between England and Ireland ran deep; the Keoghs could be described as avid Nationalists and opposed the Unionists who were not averse to the idea of English rule. Ell’s fiancé had been caught in a brawl between the two factions, and it did not turn out well.

The two sisters had been into Bagenalstown to the fishmonger to purchase a package of what turned out to be the most delicious smoked trout Cresta had ever tasted. The trout was accompanied by Alice’s homemade whiskey cake, Mag’s sour cream dip, scones with clotted cream, Irish eggs, boiled potatoes, and for dessert, Irish shortbread. All served with tea or whiskey.

Myles finally leaned back, replete with the feast and on his third glass of whiskey.

“Wonderful. No one can cook like our Alice and my sisters.” He turned to Cresta to apologize. “I am sorry, but I have not yet had the pleasure of having you cook for me. We shall have to remedy that. This meal is very appreciated as Cresta and I were not up in time to have breakfast at the hotel.”

Cresta, who was not as mellowed out on her tea as Myles was on his whiskey, hastened to explain that she and Myles had attended some musical theater the previous night, lost track of time, and had only reached their respective rooms at nearly one in the morning. She emphasized “respective rooms” slightly so there would be no misunderstanding.

After lunch was finished, Cresta was ready to help take plates and platters into the kitchen, but Mag took her arm and led her into the front hall. The center planked hallway was quite wide with rag rugs on the floor and a sofa sitting against the wall across from the staircase leading upwards. Mag showed her the room on the left of the front door, which was called the formal room. The furniture here was nice, arranged carefully with two chairs upholstered to match the blue and gray striped sofa. Cresta counted two other casual chairs in gray with blue trim and a number of wooden-backed chairs. There was a fireplace, side tables, and a floral woolen rug on the floor in shades of blue, gray, green, and pink. It was here the church Father would be seated when he came to visit and the girls would bring out tea and cookies or scones. The room also served for special guests such as the headmaster, the constable, or the local town doctor. Mag laughed and remarked when the children were little and prone to naughtiness, they were strictly forbidden from being in this room without supervision.

On the other side of the hall was the “flop room,” which was for the family and intimate friends. Sofas were a bit threadbare in places, and there were no neat tatted doilies on the chair arms or backs. Several cassocks were scattered around on the floor, and in evenings, there was nearly always a fire in the hearth. This is where the family gathered to talk about the day, make decisions, discuss family business. There was whiskey on the sideboard and photos of Myles on the mantle. Other photos were scattered about as well, but Cresta noticed that the ones of Myles were arranged almost as a shrine to their brave relative.

A handsomely carved curio cabinet was centered between a sofa and a chair, the focal point of the room, and was filled with Keogh family treasures. Mag pointed out a delicate china cup and saucer that had belonged to their great-grandmother, their grandfather’s watch, the paternal grandmother’s golden bracelet, a few old coins, some pretty glass buttons, and a ring. It was a beautiful little thing, scalloped decoration on the top, set with three tiny diamonds.

Mag smiled sadly. “Aye, that was our mother’s wedding ring. She died while Myles was off fighting in Italy. He could not come home.” Then a tear ran down Mag’s cheek. “We kept her ring in hopes another Keogh woman will someday wear it. Would you like to see it?”

Cresta said she would, so Mag pulled the little ring out and laid it in Cresta’s hand. When urged to try it on, she demurred. It wouldn’t be right. It belonged on the finger of a Keogh woman as Mag had said. But she did turn it around, little points of light flashing off the diamonds. She handed it back to Mag and hugged her.

“Thank you. Loss is always hard. I lost my father when I was still a small girl. Mother never remarried, and it was difficult. I can still hear his voice, see his smile, remember his stories. I miss him every day of my life, so I know how you feel.”

After putting the ring back in the curio cabinet, Mag sniffled a little, and the two women, arms around each other, went into the kitchen. They did not see Myles Keogh standing at the door, quietly watching.