“What are you doing on the bed?” she croaked, but as she struggled to focus, she wondered which bed they were both on.
Her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. She pushed herself upright and found herself in an unfamiliar room, what she could see of it. Twisting around to sit on the edge of the mattress, she almost stepped on someone lying on the floor under a blanket.
She pressed a hand to her head, trying to get the room to stop spinning, trying to remember…
Molly stirred and threw off her blanket when she saw Kathleen sitting up.
“What happened?” Kathleen asked, her throat feeling as if she’d swallowed broken glass.
Molly got stiffly to her feet. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Here.” She handed Kathleen her eyeglasses. “Found these in the woods. Aidan said you were on the beach, bleeding from a cut on your head.”
“Oh.” Kathleen closed her eyes, swaying a little as everything came back to her. “Um… can I use the bathroom?”
“Sure.”
Molly helped her to stand. Blossom hopped down off the bed as they made their way to the bathroom.
“You’re limping,” Kathleen said.
“Just twisted my knee in the woods last night.” Molly pushed the bathroom door open. “You okay alone?”
“Yes.”
“All right. I’m going to take the dog out. Be right back. Mom laid out a new toothbrush for you.”
Kathleen closed the door and sank onto the toilet. When she was done, she flushed, tugged her pants up, and turned to the sink. Bracing both hands on the cool porcelain, she studied her reflection. She looked like hell. Her left eye and cheek were bruised, and she still had dried blood in her hair. She ran a hand over the sweatshirt and stopped. These weren’t her clothes. Someone had undressed her. She groaned. How much more humiliating could this get?
She took her glasses off and washed her hands, splashing some cold water onto her face. She brushed her teeth, trying to scrub away the sensation that they wore sweaters. She toweled her hands and face dry and then combed her fingers through her matted hair before giving up. Shoving her glasses back on, she opened the door to find Molly and Blossom waiting for her.
“Mom is making breakfast.”
Kathleen’s stomach rebelled at the thought of food. Molly must have seen.
“You need to eat a bit. It’ll help.” She took Kathleen by the arm. “Come on.”
Down in the kitchen, Jenny set a cup of black coffee and a plate with a piece of buttered toast in front of Kathleen.
“We’ll keep it bland for now. You work on that.”
Kathleen forced herself to nibble on the toast. Joe came in, followed by Joey and Matty as they talked about tearing apart a boat engine. Kathleen wondered why they had to shout. A heavy set of footsteps followed them into the kitchen, and she found herself gazing up into Aidan’s face.
For a long moment, they stared at each other.
“You look a lot better than I feel,” she said ruefully.
He gave her a sheepish grin as he ran his hands over his smoothly shaven face. “You’re kind of a lightweight when it comes to whiskey.”
She winced. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
He pointed. “That knock on the head didn’t help.”
She nodded and held up a finger. “I’ll remember that for the future. Don’t rap your head against something hard and then drink whiskey.”
He turned to Joe. “I’ll come help you today.”
“Really?” Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “All right. With all of us, we’ll get this job taken care of in just a few days.”
He kissed Jenny as the boys took their jackets off hooks and tromped out the back door.
“See you down the marina in a bit,” Molly called after them.
“Well,” said Jenny, joining them at the table with a cup of coffee. “Now that the men are out of the house…”
“Thank you, all of you,” Kathleen mumbled. “I never meant to be so much trouble.”
“You were no trouble,” Jenny said. “You scared us, but you’re safe, so that’s all that matters.”
An awkward silence fell, like a shroud. A buzzer sounded from somewhere else in the house.
“That’ll be your clothes,” Jenny said. “I’ll see if they’re clean.”
She left Molly and Kathleen alone. Kathleen could feel Molly’s gaze, and she kept her eyes on her coffee.
Molly pushed back from the table. “I’ll get changed and take you home.”
Bewildered, Kathleen rose. She supposed she deserved to be scolded. Everything she’d done the previous night had been stupid, so unlike her. She never lost control like that.
She left the kitchen to find Jenny and her clothes, and only then noticed how beautifully the house was decorated for Christmas. The tree’s lights were on, the underside of the tree already piled with wrapped presents. There were garlands of holly and pine branches strewn along the fireplace mantel, which was hung with six stockings.
She met Jenny on the stairs. She beamed as she held up Kathleen’s jeans.
“The blood came out. See? Just as if nothing happened.”
THE RIDE TO THE cottage was a silent one. Blossom restlessly paced from side to side in the back seat of the 4-Runner as Molly drove carefully on the snow-packed road.
When she pulled up behind Kathleen’s car, Kathleen said, “Thanks again.”
To her consternation, Molly didn’t just let her out and drive away. This was all embarrassing enough. Why couldn’t she just go away? Molly came around the SUV and accompanied her to the porch.
Molly gestured awkwardly. “You left the front door open and oil lamps burning last night. And you left Blossom inside.”
Kathleen rushed inside.
“I blew them out and pulled the door shut before we went looking for you.”
Mortified, Kathleen turned to her. “I am so sorry.”
Molly stepped closer, her hands in her jacket pockets. “I found the letter. Upstairs. Is that what set you off?”
Kathleen blinked hard. “Aidan didn’t say anything?”
“No.”
Molly unexpectedly pulled Kathleen into her arms, squeezing hard. “You had me so scared,” she whispered.
Kathleen wrapped her arms around Molly. “I’m sorry.”
“When I found the house like that, and then found your glasses and the blood…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Will you stop saying that!” Molly held her by the shoulders, staring hard into her eyes. “Just tell me you’ll be all right here alone.”
Kathleen nodded. “I will be. It was…” She closed her eyes. “I will be.”
Molly pressed her lips to Kathleen’s forehead, lingering for a long moment before rushing out the door.
Kathleen watched her go, the warmth and tenderness of that kiss spreading through her. It was almost enough to melt the cold place inside where the memory of her mother’s words had long ago taken root. Almost.
Chapter 12
FLUFFY SNOWFLAKES FLOATED LAZILY as Kathleen and Blossom descended the porch steps. She carried a lit oil lamp in her gloved hands. Partway down the drive, she paused and turned. A single candle illuminated one of the windows of the cottage.
“Battery candles now,” Miranda had told her. “Ever since Lizzie O’Shea’s house burned down when the cat knocked her candle into the curtains, we made it island-wide.”
“But why do we do this?” Kathleen had asked.
“Irish tradition. For Oiche Nollag.”
“Christmas Eve,” Kathleen translated.
Miranda’s face split into a delighted smile. “You’ve been studying.” She nodded. “One candle to light the night and welcome the Savior.”
“Oiche Nollag,” Kathleen murmured now, looking at the sky, covered with thick clouds, only a few stars peeking through.
She traipsed out to the road where others were all headed toward the cemetery as well. There, she found Molly waiting f
or her.
“Checking to make sure I’d come?” she asked.
Molly gave her a crooked grin. “Last time you were due to meet me, you stood me up.”
“Tonight, I’m keeping our date.”
They joined the others on their trek to the chapel.
Inside, the islanders were packed in, crowding the benches and sitting on every available bit of floor space. Children and babies were sitting on laps. The only illumination was the lamps set on high shelves along the walls.
“It glows,” Kathleen whispered as she and Molly found floor space to sit down.
Molly nodded. “I’ve always loved this night,” she whispered back.
Blossom curled up in Kathleen’s lap.
The throng hushed as Rebecca stood behind the wooden slab of the altar. She was wearing a simple robe of white as she lit a row of candles, sprinkling some incense into the flames. Taking a ceramic bowl and a pine branch, she stepped down among the islanders, dipping the pine needles and spraying them all with droplets of water as she intoned prayers.
“Holy water,” Molly whispered.
“Is she praying in Latin?”
Molly nodded, crossing herself as Rebecca sprayed them.
It had been years since Kathleen had set foot in a church, not since she was a child. She was bemused by the mix of Catholicism and paganism—what little she knew of such things.
Rebecca went back to the altar and nodded to a group of children, who got up to re-enact the story of the Nativity.
As the Nativity play ended, a trio, consisting of Patrick with his fiddle, the pipe player from Samhain, along with someone else playing guitar, led everyone through a few carols.
Kathleen was acutely aware of the pressure of Molly’s thigh against hers. Molly reached over to pet Blossom and let her hand drop casually to Kathleen’s knee.
Kathleen stared down at her hand, the graceful curve of those strong fingers. She raised her gaze to Molly’s and was nearly bowled over by the feelings reflected there. She hesitantly placed her own hand over top of Molly’s, her heart racing at the tenderness and intimacy of such public contact.
Her thoughts wandered in decidedly nonreligious directions for the remainder of the ceremony, so she was startled when Rebecca dismissed them with a loud proclamation of “Nollaig Shona duit.”
“Nollaig Shona duit,” everyone else intoned as they stood.
Outside, the islanders called out to one another as the light from their lamps scattered in the dark. Molly walked with Kathleen, neither speaking.
As they neared the driveway to the cottage, Kathleen’s mind worked furiously to figure out whether this was the right time to—
“Santa!”
Joey and Matty ran up behind them, each grabbing one of Molly’s arms. “Come on, Mo! Got to get to bed or Santa won’t come.”
Molly twisted to look back over her shoulder at Kathleen as her brothers jogged her home.
Kathleen stopped, watching them disappear into the darkness. Blossom trotted over to lean against her leg.
She sighed and reached down to scratch his ears. “You, too. Got to get to bed or Santa won’t bring you anything. Come on.”
MOLLY WATCHED THE CLOCK anxiously, waiting until she could go without raising too much suspicion. They’d spent Christmas morning opening presents and having two rounds of breakfast—well, three for Joey and Matty. She was wearing a new L.L.Bean sweater from her parents. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Be back soon,” she said to her mother.
She hurried outside to the SUV and drove to Kathleen’s cottage, singing along with Bing Crosby. The front door was open, and Blossom was watching for her through the storm door. When she opened it, he bounded out, leaping off the porch to run into the woods for a romp.
“Hello?” she called as she stepped inside.
“Hi.” Kathleen stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Come on in.”
Molly looked around curiously. The night of the solstice, she had been so panicked, she hadn’t really noticed anything else. She recognized Maisie’s ornaments on the tree. A Christmas throw lay neatly folded on the ottoman, and a lone stocking embroidered with a dog bone hung from the mantel. Her heart sank when she saw no evidence of presents under the tree, no detritus from an unwrapping frenzy such as the one that had taken place in the Cooper house earlier. Three new-looking dog toys scattered about the floor were the only sign of gifts.
“It smells good in here,” Molly said, walking into the kitchen.
“Thanks.” Kathleen was plucking cookies off a cooling rack to put them in a plastic container.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Molly said.
“I don’t like to come empty-handed.”
Molly watched the way the light glinted off Kathleen’s hair, catching reddish highlights. She noted the khakis and blouse under a thick, cable-knit cardigan.
“You look nice,” Molly said. “You’ll be way overdressed at our house.”
Kathleen turned and smiled. “I like your sweater.”
Molly grinned. “From Santa.”
For a long moment, they stood there, neither seeming to know what to say. Molly cleared her throat and pointed.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask last night. How’s your head?”
Kathleen slid a finger gingerly under her hair. “It’s better. Tender, but…” She closed her mouth and when she opened it again, Molly held up a hand.
“If you apologize again, I’m going to tell Mom you get nothing but coal.”
Kathleen nodded. “Okay. No more apologies.”
She snapped the lid on the container and carried it out to the living room. Blossom was at the door. She let him in and tied a Christmas scarf around his neck.
“Can you get that?” Kathleen asked, pointing to a bag filled with wrapped packages.
“You didn’t have to do this, either,” Molly said.
“I know.” Kathleen shrugged. “I wanted to.”
She pulled the door shut behind them. Molly noticed she didn’t lock it.
Molly opened the cargo hatch, and Blossom jumped in. She deposited the bag inside and closed the hatch as Kathleen climbed into the passenger seat.
They drove on to pick up Louisa and Olivia, who were waiting for them. Olivia had a bag, while Louisa held the box of ashes. Molly and Kathleen helped them into the back seat. The wooden box was decorated with a red and green plaid ribbon wrapped around all four sides and tied in a bow on top. They secured it between them.
“Merry Christmas, Katie!” Louisa said. “And Molly, thank you for picking us up.”
“You know it’s never a problem,” Molly said, smiling back at her in the rear view mirror. “That’s what the sheriff is for.”
Joe and the boys came out to help the Woodhouse sisters down from the Toyota and into the house. Molly handed them the bags from the cargo area. Blossom trotted inside as if he owned the house.
Molly held the door as Kathleen entered the house, stopping abruptly when she saw the fireplace. A seventh stocking was hanging from the mantel, embroidered with “Kathleen”. She went to the fireplace and touched a finger to the bulging stocking.
Aidan glanced up from where he was setting her bag near the tree. “It’s just a stocking.”
Kathleen swallowed hard. “No. It isn’t.”
She spun on her heel and went into the kitchen, leaving Molly staring after her.
IT WAS DARK AS they gathered up their things to leave.
“Thank you for the nicest Christmas I can remember,” Kathleen said to Joe.
“Glad to have you,” he said.
Jenny came over to hug Kathleen tightly. “Thank you so much for that painting.”
Kathleen hugged Jenny back. “It’s nothing.”
Jenny held her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. “It isn’t nothing. You took the time to make something special for us.” She glanced to where the watercolor sat on the mantel—a view of the beach and the ocean bey
ond. “We’ll treasure it.”
Rebecca chimed in, saying, “And the photo of the library. I love it.”
Kathleen had managed to capture a moment where the sun was slanting through the oak trees, bathing the little library in golden light.
“And our home,” Louisa said, holding the sketch of the rambling house. “Daddy would have loved this. It will have a place of honor on our wall.”
Kathleen cradled her stocking and looked around for Blossom. He was lying with his head under the sofa, his tail wagging.
“I think we know where Minnow is,” Molly said ruefully, going over to take Blossom by the collar and pull him toward the door. “Come on, little man.” She shooed him outside.
“Ollie,” said Louisa. “Time to go.”
Olivia wrapped a scarf around her neck, a little wobbly on her feet.
“You okay, Miss Olivia?” Joe asked, taking her by the elbow.
“You shouldn’t have poured me that last glass of wine, Joseph Cooper.”
He grinned. “You didn’t have to drink it.”
She leaned toward him and whispered loudly, “But it was so good.”
He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist to guide her outside. Louisa had Matty’s arm as she, too, teetered down the porch steps.
“I haven’t been on a young man’s arm in ages,” she said with a giggle.
Kathleen hid a smile as Matty said with a dramatic sigh, “Miss Louisa, you’re too much woman for me.”
“Oh, you flirt,” she said, swatting him lightly.
He helped her up into the back seat of the 4-Runner while Joe did the same with Olivia.
“You sure you can get these two inside okay?” he asked Molly in a low voice.
“We’ll be fine.”
The island was dotted with lit-up houses as she drove—bits of warmth and joy as other families celebrated Christmas. Kathleen sat back, remembering when she was little, sitting in the back seat of the car as her father drove, wondering what other families were doing in their homes behind their glowing windows. She’d made up wonderful fantasies about how happy they all were.
Molly pulled up as close to the house as she could. She helped Olivia, who was carrying the ashes, and Kathleen took Louisa by the arm, guiding her up the porch steps and inside.
When the Stars Sang Page 17