by Pandora Pine
Time And Time Again
By
Pandora Pine
Time and Time Again
Copyright © Pandora Pine 2016
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Digital Edition: January 2016
For J and E,
At long, long last.
1
The Irish church was packed to the rafters with well-dressed wedding guests using their programs to fan themselves. On the hottest day in July, there was no air-conditioning and no fans to move the heavy, humid air.
Carter McCann was sweating through his perfectly tailored black suit. His crisp, white dress shirt was clinging to his back. Pulling his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket he dialed Liam’s number again. Just like it had every other time, the phone went straight to voicemail. His bright Irish brogue greeted, “You’ve reached Liam. Leave a message…”
Pressing the end button for what felt like the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes, he shoved the phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Where the fuck is he?” Carter muttered to himself, heedless of the fact he was pacing in front of the altar in the century old Catholic Church.
The impatient assemblage started murmuring louder, drawing his attention to the silk-lined aisle. His sister, Bree, practically ran down the aisle, an eyesore in her gaudy pumpkin-orange maid of honor dress. Bree was smiling and waving at guests on the bride’s side of the church as she ran toward Carter. The bridesmaids were dressed in Kelley green so when they all stood with the bride, who was wearing white, they would resemble the Irish flag.
Being the observant brother he was Carter knew the bright smile was masking the worry he could see plain as day in her cornflower blue eyes.
She grabbed his left arm and pulled him to the side, away from the prying eyes of well-meaning but nosy family members. “Where the fuck is he, Carter?” she whispered loudly. “Cadence is totally losing her shit back there.”
“All my calls keep going to voicemail and the priest is getting antsy. He says he has a funeral in an hour and we’ll have to be out of here by then.”
“Liam had better be dead or I’ll kill him myself,” Bree said, her face twisted into an angry grimace.
He wasn’t used to seeing his usually even-keeled foster-sister this upset and was about to tell her so when a hush fell over the church. Cadence McCann floated down the aisle dressed in her dream wedding gown minus the delicate veil Carter helped pin to her hair earlier that afternoon. Two police officers stood at the entrance to the church, hands clutched in front of them, matching looks of uneasiness on their chiseled faces. Clutched in Cadence’s right hand was a crumpled envelope.
From her shaking hands and hard-set jaw-line, it was obvious she was fighting to stay strong. Carter and Bree instinctively moved toward their sister.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Cadence announced with a trembling voice, “I hope you all enjoyed what there was of my wedding. The two fine members of the Boston Police Department you see standing at the back of the church have just informed me my ex-fiancé was arrested this morning for various RICO violations. I better not be that bastard’s one call from jail.” She made quick eye contact with Carter and Bree before turning and walking back down the aisle, her head held high.
2
Aer Lingus flight 8315 reached a cruising altitude of 27,000 feet twenty minutes after takeoff from Boston’s Logan international Airport. “You gonna read that letter or keep crushing the envelope in your hands?” Carter nudged his sister’s shoulder.
“Arrested on RICO charges. Who the hell does Liam think he is, Whitey Bulger?”
Carter snorted. His ex-future brother-in-law was a lot of things, but he had a hard time seeing Liam as a budding Irish mob boss. He burst out laughing, relieved when his sister joined in. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
“I’m going on my dream honeymoon with my brother. What do you think?” She tried to smile but her face crumbled. “I believed that rat bastard when he said he was working late to help pay for our wedding.”
Carter believed him too. Liam never gave him any reason to think he wouldn’t be a good husband to his sister. He would never say it to Cadence, but she dodged a bullet today. “I should have known-”
“No, you shouldn’t have known,” she interrupted. “I was the one who lived with him and agreed to marry him. I was the one who should’ve known. I’m twenty-four years old now, Carter. You don’t need to protect me anymore.”
“I’ll always protect you.” He smacked a kiss against her strawberry blond locks, such a stark contrast to his own dark brown hair. “Would it be easier if I read the letter to you?”
Cadence wordlessly handed the mangled envelope to her brother.
Carter un-tucked the flap and pulled out a dog-eared piece of jagged notebook paper. “My darling, Cadence, I can explain everything. At least I didn’t cheat on you and that’s something to build on, right? We can get married at City Hall when you bail me out. All me love, Liam.”
“Un-fucking-believable! Bail him out?” She was practically screeching. “It will be a cold day in hell when I spend one more red cent on that mick bastard.” Cadence folded her arms over her chest and pouted.
Unable to help himself, Carter burst out laughing. He hated to point out the obvious, but being one-hundred percent Irish themselves made them each “mick bastards” too. Hearing Cadence snort along with him was music to his ears. He knew his sister was hurting, but he was determined to make this trip to Ireland one she would never forget.
“Mom would love us taking this trip to her homeland together,” Cadence said, suddenly brightening. “Are you excited about going to Moone Castle? Mom and Dad met and fell in love there and maybe the same thing will happen to you.” Cadence linked their arms and rested her head against his shoulder.
Carter’s snort startled his sister. He was twenty-six years old and worked so many hours it didn’t leave much time to date. At least that was the line he sold himself. The truth of the matter was no one had really caught his imagination or held his attention for very long. “Oh sure, he’ll sweep me off my feet and carry me off to his castle on a hill.”
“Make sure to ask him if he’s got a single friend.”
3
Cadence’s spacious room at the Fairy Hill Inn was to the right of the steep second floor staircase, while Carter’s room was to the left. It had been a stroke of luck when a room was available for Carter on such short notice, otherwise he would have been sharing the honeymoon suite with his sister. It was one thing to come on his sister’s honeymoon, it was another thing entirely to be forced to share a room.
Carter’s room originally belonged to the inn keeper and had been converted to a guest room. The sharp slope of the roof caused him to duck his 6’2” frame to pass into the chamber. A small twin bed was pushed against the far wall piled high with multi-color quilts. Carter would have to be careful when he sat up in the morning or he’d end up hitting his head against the low ceiling. He wondered how it would be possible to tuck himself into the bed comfortably.
A small window at the foot of the bed provided a bit of a breeze. Summer in Ireland was mild with temperatures in the 60s. Even so, Carter’s room felt stuffy. Ducking his head to look out the window, the view took his breath away. The ruin of Moone Castle sat perched on Fairy Hill under the r
ising moon. “Cadence, come quick!” His bellow echoed around the room.
“What? What’s wrong?” She ran through the door panting.
“Look!” He motioned out the window. It looked like a light show was going on at the castle. Bursts of neon green illuminated the castle grounds.
“Fairy lights!” Cadence exclaimed in awe. “It’s how the hill got its name. Ancient Celts thought the small bugs were fairies dancing in the moonlight.”
“There must be a million fireflies. I can’t believe we’re really here,” Carter said, his voice heavy with sadness. Knowing how important this place was to their parents was setting Carter’s already frayed emotions closer to the breaking point. He never imagined he’d ever make to his mother’s homeland and being here under these circumstances was almost more than he could handle. Above all, he needed to stay strong for his sister.
“Me either.” Cadence wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him tight.
Carter woke the next morning twisted like a pretzel. His knees were barking in agony after being bent all night in an effort to stay on the bed. It might be easier to spend tonight sleeping on the floor. He’d have to remember to ask the inn keeper if they had an air mattress. He stretched his achy arms over his head and whacked both hands against the low ceiling. “Damn it!”
“Aren’t you full of blarney this morning?” Cadence called cheerily from across the hall.
“Who the hell slept in this bed comfortably, leprechauns?”
Cadence laughed as she opened Carter’s door. “Don’t be hating on the little people.”
“It’s nice to see you smiling,” he said, sitting up and banging his head on the low, sloped ceiling. “Fuck my life!”
Cadence burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth and turning away from Carter.
“Hearing you laugh like that is worth a concussion.” He rubbed a hand against his sore head.
Once Carter had tucked her into her bed last night, Cadence’s strong front crumbled and she burst into tears. The tears started over memories of their dead parents and ended over Liam’s betrayal. Carter held her close and told her stories of Moone Castle’s greatest warrior, Fionn Ò Ciardha, until she fell asleep.
Shoving his long legs out of the way, Cadence perched on the end of the bed to get a look at the castle. It looked much different in the early morning light. Bright green ivy spilled down the remaining chimneys to drape partway down the ruined castle walls.
“You excited to get out there today?” Carter asked, finally making it out of bed to stretch in an area of the room with a higher ceiling.
“Yeah, I just hate the shape it’s in, worn down and crumbling. What I would give to have seen Moone Castle in its heyday,” Cadence sighed.
Carter agreed. Funding for archaeological digs at the site dried up in 1992. With no one there to beat back nature’s attempts to reclaim the castle, it fell into further ruin. Carlyle and Brigid McCann had been one of the last groups of students to dig on the castle grounds before the site had been condemned.
“I can’t believe we’re going to meet Fionn today.” Carter’s left hand slipped down the neck of his Boston College tee shirt to palm his father’s medallion.
Grabbing the leather strap it was strung on, Cadence tugged it out of Carter’s hand. “I haven’t seen this since dad died,” she said sadly.
The medallion was about the size of a half dollar and was made from pearlescent moonstone which appeared to be lit from within by blue light. It was in the shape of a heart entwined within a Celtic knot. Carlyle McCann wore the talisman from the day he found it on the grounds of Moone Castle until the day he died. Carter took up wearing it after that.
“I wasn’t sure I should wear it here considering its archaeological contraband.” Both McCanns laughed. The artifact should have been reported and catalogued as part of the dig. According to the story Carlyle told, he felt compelled to keep the moonstone as if it were meant for something greater than sitting on a cushion in a museum behind glass. In all the years Carter asked about the medallion, his father’s had never been able to explain the reason he took it any better than that.
Carter couldn’t help but wonder if his talisman was happy to be home.
4
Carter’s heart was beating frantically against his rib cage when he climbed out of the smelly diesel tour bus at the access road to Moone Castle. His childhood had been filled with bedtime stories of brave Fionn Ò Ciardha. The giant, blond warrior had been his first boyhood crush. It was thought he was a descendent of a Viking raider and an Irish maiden, accounting for his corn silk hair and 6’5” stature.
The castle ruins were perched high atop Fairy Hill. Several seemingly out of place trees had sprouted up near the castle walls. While picturesque, they ruined the image of what the castle had looked like in Fionn’s time. The steeply sloped hill leveled off a bit south of the castle making a perfect final resting place for Moone Castle’s long-dead caretakers.
Standing stone-still on the gravel path, Carter stared awe-struck at the castle. He was finally here, walking the grounds where Fionn once lived, seeing the view Fionn once saw with his own eyes. He couldn’t help but think how sad this version of his home would make Fionn. County Kildare had not been a proper caretaker to the castle once Ireland had wrested control of the land from the hands of the greedy English bastards who had taken it in 1434.
“Let’s go meet your fantasy lover.” Cadence grabbed his arm and urged him toward the graveyard with the other tourists.
“Fantasy lover? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Carter scoffed, knowing full well what she meant. He had spent many nights jerking off to his imagined version of Fionn.
Cadence arched her eyebrow in question. “Oh please! We were both head over heels for him. Other kids our age had posters of the Jonas Brothers on their walls. We were in love with an Irish warrior who died over five hundred years before we were born.”
Carter cracked a smile, his sister knew him better than anyone else and she always accepted him for who he was, warts and all. He took her hand in his and tugged Cadence toward Fionn’s final resting place.
Moone Castle was a traditional motte-and-bailey structure constructed during the eleventh century. The motte was a raised earthwork, meaning Fairy Hill was not a natural formation of the land, but constructed by human hands. The earth was built up and fortified to give the castle a higher vantage point to keep watch for enemy invaders.
The bailey was the area inside the protective walls of the castle. The walls had been broken down and lost over time by the elements, leaving only the remains of the castle and the small cemetery as a testament of what Moone was in her heyday. During the castle’s storied history it had stood tall through attacks by Vikings, William the Conqueror, rival Irish clans and the English.
When he and his sister asked Carlyle why he had chosen Moone for his PhD research, he said something drew him there. It was almost a magnetic attraction as if he couldn’t stay away. Carter had always assumed he meant he was drawn to Brigid, but now he understood what his father had meant all those years ago. He could feel it too, like he was finally home at last, after being away on a long journey.
“Everyone gather ‘round,” Kelly, the redheaded tour guide called. “Please keep in mind we’re about to enter a sacred place of rest. Remember to maintain the peace.”
Carter felt himself tearing up over her soft lilting accent. The cadence of the young girl’s voice reminded him of his mother. He hurried to catch up with her. “Excuse me, Miss, I’m Carter McCann and this is my sister, Cadence. Are you any relation to the O’Byrne’s of Kilkea?”
Her bright green eyes widened. “I am. My mother, Erin, is an O’Byrne cousin. Are we family?”
“We are,” Cadence said, blinking back tears. “Our mother was Brigid O’Byrne.”
“Oh, the lass who married a Yank and moved to America?” Her eyes glowed with excitement.
“That’s her,” Carter said pro
udly. He was glad to know his mother was still remembered fondly in her homeland.
“And you are here to see Moone Castle and Fairy Hill for yourselves?”
“We are,” Cadence said.
“If memory serves, your mum and dad both were interested in Fionn Ò Ciardha. Come, let me introduce you to our bonny warrior.”
5
“Fee-ON, what kind of name is Fee-ON?” a loud-mouthed teenager in a New York Yankees shirt asked, reading Fionn’s name from the grave marker.
“His name is pronounced Finn, like a shark fin. The ‘o’ is silent. He was the last great Irish warrior who protected this castle and its lands before the English invaded and took possession of Moone.”
The tour group was gathered around Fionn’s funeral slab. It was 7 feet long and 4 feet wide, made of Irish granite, worn smooth over time by the elements. His name was chiseled into the stone which was partially covered by golden lichen. Beneath his name, a design was carved into the stone. His date of death came next: 11 October, 1433. The design was partially obscured by moss.