As she approached the stone fence that surrounded the cottage, the front door opened. Keely hesitated, then decided to explain herself to Maeve Quinn and hope for news of her family.
The slender elderly woman with hair the color of snow was dressed in a brightly flowered dress. She held her hand out to the rain, then waved. 'Come in, come in, dear,' she called, motioning to Keely. 'Jimmy rang me from the market and told me you were on your way. Don't make me wait a minute longer to meet you.'
Keely reached for the latch on the gate, unwilling to refuse such a friendly invitation. 'I don't mean to disturb you,' she said. 'I'm Keely Mc-'
'I know exactly who you are,' the woman said, her Irish accent thick in each word. 'You are Fiona and Seamus's girl. You're family, that you are, come all the way from across the ocean. And I won't miss a chance to share a cup of tea with a relative.' She held out her hand and it trembled slightly. 'I'm Maeve Quinn. I suppose I would be your cousin then. At least I'm cousin to your father Seamus. So what would that make us?' She waved her hand. 'Oh, never mind. It makes no difference at all, does it?'
Keely hesitated. Surely the woman had misspoke. Maeve was a Quinn. She would have been related to Keely's mother, not her father. Maybe she wasn't a relative at all. 'I think you must be mistaken,' Keely said. 'My mother was Fiona Quinn.'
'Yes, yes,' Maeve said. 'And she married my cousin, Seamus Quinn. She was a McClain, as I recall. From the McClains that lived down Topsall Road in that big house. Yes, that was it. Topsall Road.' Maeve smiled, her eyes lighting up. 'She was the prettiest girl in the village and from a fine family. I was there at their wedding. And how is Fiona? Since her parents passed years back, we haven't heard a thing from her, or from Seamus, for that matter. But then you wouldn't have remembered your grandparents. You must have been just a wee child when they died. Donal and Katherine, God rest their souls, treasured each other until the day death separated them. Donal couldn't live without her and he died just a week after she did. Many say from a broken heart.'
'Donal and Katherine?' Keely slowly sat down on the chair she was offered, trying to digest all the information. Katherine was her middle name! But it had been over twenty-five years since her parents had left. It was no wonder the elderly lady got things mixed up, names and places.
'I'll get tea,' she said, as she hurried out of the parlor into the rear of the cottage. 'I have the pot on right now.'
Keely glanced around the tidy room, from the handmade lace doilies to the delicate crystal figurines, pretty landscape paintings and embroidered pillows. Tiny reminders of her mother's home were scattered around the room, knickknacks that she'd never known were of Irish origin. She reached out and picked up a delicate Belleek porcelain dish, examining the fine basketweave surface.
'Here we are,' Maeve chirped. 'Tea and a bit of gur cake.' She set the tray down on the table in front of Keely and poured her a cup. 'Milk or lemon?' she asked.
'Milk, please,' Keely said. She took the cup and saucer from Maeve, along with the thin slice of fruitcake tucked beside. She hesitated, then set the tea down in front of her. 'There's something I have to clear up,' she said. 'It's about my parents. My mother's name was Fiona Quinn and my father's name was Seamus McClain. Maybe it's just a coincidence but-'
'Oh, no, dear. You must be confused.'
Keely sighed in exasperation. 'I can't be confused about my parents' names. They're my parents.'
Maeve frowned, then quickly stood. 'Well, we'll just have to sort this tangle out.' She crossed the room, opened a cabinet, and withdrew a leather-bound album. 'Here,' she said, returning to Keely's side. She sat down next to her and opened the album. 'Here they are.'
Keely stared down at the picture. Her mother had never kept old photos around the house. She had never considered this odd until she'd grown older and asked about her long-dead father and her grandparents, suddenly anxious for any proof of their existence. There was even a time when she'd wondered if she'd been adopted or kidnapped by pirates or even left in a basket on the church…
Her gaze instantly froze on the pretty young woman standing near the sea. It was her mother, there was no doubt about that. She pointed to the photo. 'That's Fiona Quinn,' she said.
'Yes,' Maeve said. 'And there's your father, Seamus Quinn.'
'My-father?' Keely asked, her voice dying in her throat. She ran her fingers over the faded edges. 'This is my father.'
'He was always a handsome devil,' the old woman said. 'A favorite of all the girls in the village. But he only had eyes for your mother, and though her parents didn't approve of the match, there was nothing that could stop them. I expect he still is quite dashing, though that black hair has surely turned to gray.'
Keely's heart lurched and she felt the blood slowly drain from her brain. Her father was dead. Didn't this woman know? He'd been gone for so many years, since just after she was born. Her mother had to have sent the news in a letter or at least made a phone call. Or maybe Maeve had simply forgotten her relatives so far away. Though the woman didn't appear to be feebleminded, Keely decided to forgo the revelation about her father's death. The last thing she wanted was her new cousin to collapse from a heart attack at learning the sad fate of Seamus McClain.
Instead, Keely continued to stare at the only image she'd ever seen of her father. He was handsome, with his dark hair and fine features. Had she passed him on the street in New York she would have turned for a second look. Now she had an image to fix in her mind, a face to put with her father's name. 'He
'All the Quinn men were,' Maeve said. 'And I do believe they knew it, too.'
'Here's another photo taken that same day. I believe it was the day they left for America. Taken with the boys. I remember trying to get them all to stand still for a photo was nearly impossible.'
'The boys?' Keely asked, following Maeve's finger to the next page of the album.
'And here they are again,' Maeve said, pointing to another photo.
Keely glanced down at the picture, the color images washed out by time. This time Fiona and Seamus were surrounded by five young boys of various ages and sizes. 'Are these your children?' Keely asked.
Maeve laughed as she pulled the photo from the album. 'Then you don't recognize them? Why, these would be your brothers. Let me see if I remember correctly. The eldest was Conor. And then there was Brendan and Dylan, though I can't remember which of those two comes first. I suppose they're all grown and married now, with families of their own. And the twins. Now what were their names?' She turned the photo over. 'I do believe your mother was pregnant.' She pointed to the swell beneath Fiona's windblown dress. 'That was probably you.'
Keely quickly pushed to her feet. This couldn't be right. This wasn't her family. This wasn't her story. She didn't have brothers. She was an only child! 'I really should go,' she murmured. 'I've already taken too much of your time.'
'But you haven't touched your tea. Please stay and visit with me.'
'Perhaps I'll come again tomorrow,' Keely said, desperate to find a moment to herself, a moment to think about what Maeve had told her.
'Well, here, then. Take this with you.' She handed Keely the photo, who reluctantly took it and tucked it in her purse before she hurried to the door.
'Tomorrow,' she said as she stepped outside into the soft rain that had begun to fall.
By the time she reached the car, her mind was spinning with confusion. She wanted to believe Maeve Quinn was a crazy old lady who couldn't keep her facts straight. But every instinct told her that Maeve was in full possession of her faculties and
Keely numbly started the car and steered it down the road. But her head pounded and her stomach roiled. A wave of nausea overtook her and she slammed on the brakes and stumbled out of the car. Bracing her hands on the front bumper, she retched, her emotions overtaking her body. When her stomach finally settled, she took a ragged breath and pressed her palm to her forehead.
Damn it, why did this always happen to her! This was what she got for acting so impulsively. Yet she couldn't be sorry she'd come. Ireland had revealed a past she'd never known, a past her mother had hidden from her for years. And if this wasn't the truth, then she'd be damn sure she'd get the truth, either here or back in the States. On wobbly legs, she slipped back into the car.
Keely withdrew the photo from the pocket of her purse and stared down at it. The faces of the five boys were undeniably familiar. If they weren't her brothers, then they were most certainly related. Minutes passed, but Keely couldn't take her eyes off the photo. A knock on the car window startled her out of her thoughts and she turned to
