Take Me Home KO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "I'll definitely go there."

  "When you do…" Maeve paused, uncertainty filling her eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't say anything."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She didn't tell you?"

  "Tell me what?"

  "Maybe she didn't want you to go to the cemetery. Perhaps that was a secret she didn't want to share."

  "There's a secret?" she asked, a chill running down her spine. "If there's something I need to see, I should see it. My grandmother might have just forgotten to tell me. But she sent me to you, so…"

  "So you're almost as persuasive as she is," Maeve said with a gleam in her eyes. "There's a gravestone next to your great-grandparents. Read the inscription."

  "That's all you're going to tell me?"

  "I'm afraid so." Maeve paused. "Thank you for bringing me back my heart, Emma."

  "You're more than welcome. I know my grandmother wishes she could have brought it back herself."

  "I hope she stays well. Please come back tomorrow. I'd like to meet the rest of your family."

  "I will. And my husband and I will look into finding Shannon's father for you."

  "Thank you so much."

  Emma stood up, then paused. "Would you mind if I took a picture with you so my grandmother can see us together?"

  "Of course not. I wish I looked a little better, but I'm sure Ellie would tell me not to be silly."

  "She would," Emma said with a grin. She leaned in next to Maeve as the elderly woman held up the double necklaces now around her neck and then snapped a photo of both of them. "I'll see you soon," she added as she headed downstairs to find Max.

  Max was in the backyard. He was sitting at a little table under a big tree with Shannon. There was a play tea set in front of them. Shannon poured Max a cup of imaginary tea and then offered him some imaginary sugar.

  Emma paused, watching them for a moment, her heart swelling as she saw Max and Shannon together. This was how Max would be as a father. He'd be patient, loving, kind, and fun. He'd play with his kids. He'd be there for them in a way that his father had never been.

  Max saw her watching them and waved her over.

  "How's the tea?" she asked.

  He grinned. "It's a little sweet, but Shannon says that's the way she likes it."

  "Do you want some?" Shannon asked her.

  "I would love some tea," she said, taking the third seat at the table.

  Shannon poured her an imaginary cup. "If it's too cold, I can heat it up on my stove." Shannon pointed to the miniature stove a few feet away.

  "She likes to do that," Max said under his breath.

  She sipped at the air in her cup and then said, "I think it could use some heat."

  "Okay." Shannon took the plastic kettle over to her play stove and put it on the burner. While she was waiting for her water to heat, Shannon did several cartwheels across the grass.

  Max laughed. "That kid has a lot of energy."

  "She reminds me of myself. I used to love to do cartwheels. I once set a family record of seven in a row. Nicole could only do five without getting dizzy or falling over."

  "Why am I not surprised you had a competitive drive to win even in cartwheels?" he teased.

  She made a face at him. "I like to win. It's fun."

  "It is fun. So, how was your talk with Maeve?"

  "It was good. She told me that her parents died when she was twelve, and Grandma's parents adopted her so she wouldn't have to live in an orphanage. She's the other girl in the family photos."

  "Interesting."

  "My grandmother apparently made it all happen. She wanted a sister and she adored Maeve. There was half a heart in the jewelry box. They each had one. My grandmother sent hers back to Maeve, because she's sick, or maybe she just wanted the hearts to be together one last time." A wave of sadness ran through her at the thought of time running out for both Maeve and her grandmother. "She asked me to come back tomorrow with everyone. She wants to meet you, but she's too tired today."

  "Did she tell you stories about your grandmother?"

  "A few. She also told me a little about Shannon, who is her great-granddaughter. Shannon's mother and grandmother were killed two years ago and Shannon came here to live because there's no one else. But now Maeve is worried about what will happen to Shannon when she passes. She wants to try to find Shannon's biological father, who apparently lives in California."

  "And you said you'd help," he said knowingly.

  "We'd help," she corrected with a smile. "I think Grandma sent me here not just to see her family home and to meet Maeve but to also help Maeve find Shannon's father."

  Max nodded. "We can do that. Did you get a name?"

  "I did." Her gaze drifted to Shannon, who was now practicing handstands that usually ended up with her tumbling onto the grass. "I feel so bad for her. She already lost her mom and who knows when she'll lose Maeve. I think because Maeve remembers being in an orphanage, she's really worried about Shannon going to strangers." As she looked back at Max, she saw an odd light in his eyes. "What?"

  He hesitated, then shrugged. "Nothing."

  "It doesn't look like nothing."

  "Just thinking that maybe your grandmother wanted us to meet Shannon as much as she wanted you to meet Maeve."

  She stared back at him. The same thought had run through her mind right after Maeve had told her how worried she was about Shannon ending up with strangers and how her grandmother had thought Emma might be able to help. "She has a father. Maybe he's a good guy, and he doesn't even know he has a daughter. She could have a whole pack of relatives on the other side of the family who she hasn't met yet."

  "Sure," he said. "We'll find out."

  Shannon brought the kettle back to the table and poured Emma her tea. "Is it hot now?"

  Emma pretended to take a sip. "It's perfect."

  Shannon's smile spread across her pale, freckled face. "Do you want cake, too?"

  "There's cake?"

  Shannon nodded. "I made it this morning. It's a cinnamon and sugar cake."

  "My two favorite things, cinnamon and sugar."

  Shannon pretended she was cutting a cake and then handed Emma a piece.

  Emma picked up her fork and took a bite. "It's delicious," she said.

  Shannon beamed and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. Her ponytail had come completely undone after all her cartwheels and handstands.

  "Do you want me to fix your hair?" Emma asked.

  Shannon nodded and then got up and ran into the house.

  "Where did she go?" Emma asked in puzzlement.

  "No idea," Max said with a laugh. "She's a little fairy. She can't seem to sit still."

  He'd no sooner finished speaking when Shannon came back with a brush and slid onto Emma's lap.

  Emma pulled the band out of Shannon's hair and slowly brushed through the tangles, careful to pull the strands apart without causing too much discomfort. "My mom used to brush my hair when I was little," she told Shannon. "I used to have really long hair. And when I'd go swimming it would be one huge tangle when I came out of the water."

  "When did you cut your hair?" Max asked curiously.

  "When I became a firefighter."

  "So you'd fit in like one of the guys."

  "More so my hair wouldn't catch fire," she said with a laugh. "But the other, too. Sometimes I miss it."

  "You could grow it out again. You don't usually go into fires now until they're out."

  "True. Maybe I'll think about that." She turned back to Shannon. "Do you want a braid?"

  At the girl's vigorous nod, she carefully wove Shannon's long red hair into a French braid. As she finished, Aileen came out to join them.

  Aileen put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my, you look like a princess," she said.

  Shannon beamed. "I do?" She turned to Max for confirmation.

  He quickly agreed. "The prettiest princess in the land."

  "I want to see," she said, sliding off Emma's lap.

>   "It's time to have your lunch," Aileen said. "And I think Emma and Max have other places to go."

  "You have to leave?" Shannon asked with disappointment.

  "We're going to come back tomorrow," Emma promised.

  The light came back into the little girl's eyes. "Okay, bye."

  As Shannon and Aileen went into the house, Emma got up, and saw Max groan a little as he got out of the very small chair.

  She laughed. "You were quite the gamer to go through all that."

  "It was fun. But I'm glad you handled the hair brushing. I don't think I could have made a braid like that."

  "I have two sisters; I've had a lot of practice." She paused. "It was cute that Shannon looked to you to make sure she was a princess. Little girls learn early that it's all about the man's opinion."

  He grinned. "I never thought you'd say that."

  "Well, I didn't say it was right," she retorted.

  "So where are we going now? Back to the hotel? To the beach? What?"

  "A graveyard."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

  "It's behind the local church where my great-grandparents got married and also where they were buried. Apparently, a lot of my family members are there, and according to Maeve, there's one headstone I really need to see."

  "Why?" he asked warily.

  "She said something about my grandmother's secret."

  "I thought we knew all your grandmother's secrets."

  "Apparently, there might be one more."

  Five

  There was a saying that you should never meet your idols—that they'll always disappoint you—but as Ian watched Professor Donelan lecture several hundred students in his physics class on string theory, he was anything but disappointed.

  Seamus Donelan was a giant among men in the scientific world. In the past thirty years, his work had encompassed renewable energy and aeronautical engineering innovations that would enable new developments in space exploration into the next century.

  Seamus had probably made a fortune in his career, but last year he'd surprisingly taken himself out of the private sector, returning to his homeland to teach at this rather small university, and Ian was curious as to how that choice had come about. Seamus was sixty-five years old now, but Ian couldn't quite believe that Seamus was done bringing new discoveries to the scientific world. He was just too brilliant to be happy as a teacher. Not that teachers weren't important, but Seamus was an inventor, a creator. There had to be a story behind his decision.

  When the lecture came to a conclusion, Ian walked down to the front of the room, waiting for Professor Donelan to finish a conversation with one of his students.

  Seamus had dark-red hair and brown eyes. He was tall and lean, and his beard and glasses gave him a scholarly look. Ian was impressed with the focus and attention that Seamus gave to each of his students, no matter how inane the question.

  He doubted he would have the patience. In fact, he didn't just doubt; he knew for a fact that he wouldn't have the patience. His mind operated at a higher than normal speed, and when people couldn't keep up, he tended to move on without them.

  "Ian Callaway," the professor said, turning to him as the last of his students walked away. "I would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. You look a lot like your grandmother."

  "I'll take that as a compliment. It's nice to meet you, Professor," he said, extending his hand.

  "And you, Mr. Callaway. I'm quite impressed with your accomplishments. After Eleanor told me about your visit, I must admit I looked you up. I didn't have to look far. The water purification project you've been working on in Africa has been making headlines around the world."

  "Unfortunately, most of those headlines have more to do with the politics."

  "Politics and science. They're becoming more and more intertwined," Seamus agreed. "It's frustrating to see needs going unanswered so a political party can score points. Unfortunately, while it's tempting not to play, there's often no other way to get what you need. But let's discuss it over lunch. I've arranged for you to join me in the faculty dining room. Is that all right with you?"

  "It's perfect. I hope it's not an imposition. My grandmother can be quite pushy."

  "She's just like her father. Donald Rafferty could not take no for an answer, either. But it's not at all an imposition." Seamus grabbed his computer bag, and they headed out of the classroom.

  As they walked across the grounds of the university, past the young women and men talking in clusters or studying in groups on the grass, Ian felt a bit nostalgic for his days as a student. He'd done his undergrad at Stanford and his graduate work at MIT and those days had been some of the happiest days of his life.

  "All these young minds," he murmured.

  "A lot of dreams being born today." Seamus glanced over at him. "When was the last time you were on a campus?"

  "It's been awhile. I have to admit that during your lecture, I found myself missing my college days. I always loved school. It was the one place I felt the most normal." As he spoke a truth that he rarely said out loud, he was a little surprised at himself. He didn't usually volunteer personal information so easily, but then Seamus felt like someone who might just understand.

  Seamus nodded. "A high intellect can be isolating."

  It certainly had been in his family. He loved his parents and his siblings, but his dad and brothers were firefighters, his mom was a nurse, one sister an FBI agent, the other a museum curator, and the third a graphic designer. No one in his family had ever pursued advanced degrees or considered school to be anything more than an annoying journey they had to get through.

  But for him, school had been an adventure. Learning had opened up the world to him. There was so much to know, and even with his advanced degrees, he still felt like there were many areas of interest that he had yet to explore.

  "There's definitely no one in my immediate family who shares my love of education," he said.

  "Mine, either." Seamus opened the door to the university dining room and waved Ian inside. "My parents were farmers. Their dreams were small. A good crop was all they ever wanted or prayed for. My brother was the same. He thought I was crazy for wanting to go to school. He just wanted to hunt and fish, farm the land, and romance the local girls," he added with a laugh.

  Ian smiled. "But you had bigger dreams."

  "Much bigger." Seamus paused to give his name to the hostess. "I was going to change the world."

  "You achieved that."

  "But there's always more to do."

  "That's true."

  They were seated a few moments later at a table by the window. After perusing the menu, Seamus ordered a shepherd's pie and a Guinness. Ian joined him with the Guinness but opted for grilled salmon and vegetables.

  "The healthier choice," Seamus said with a small smile. "But the shepherd's pie here reminds me of my mother. She cooked up shepherd's pie every Sunday for lunch after Mass."

  "We have a big lunch after Sunday Mass as well," Ian said. "It's a Callaway tradition. It rotates between houses, as the family is quite large, and still growing."

  "I met your grandmother's husband Patrick Callaway many years ago. He seemed like a good man." Seamus paused. "To be honest, I knew Eleanor's parents better than I knew her. She was already off to the States and married by the time I was in high school, but her father loved to tell me stories about her, and whenever she came back to visit, there was a big party in her honor. She was always at the center of it. Her parents missed her so much, but her father was happy she married another Irishman. I remember when she came back with her children for her mother's funeral. It was a sad occasion but she eased her father's pain with her presence."

  "I don't remember that."

  "It was twenty years ago, now." He paused, his gaze reflective. "The next time I saw Ellie was several years later when her father passed. It seemed we were fated to meet at sad occasions. She gave me a box of her father's books, some of the earliest books on physics e
ver to be written, as well as some of his own personal journals. In those he'd written down his ideas and his experiments. He was quite a creative thinker."

  "I'd love to see those sometime."

  "The box is in storage, but I will dig it out one day and send it to you. I think you would enjoy reading through it."

  "I would."

  "Will you visit your father's family while you're here? The Callaways are from Wexford, are they not?"

  "They are, but this trip is about Grandma's side of the family and I'm not sure there are any Callaways left, or at least none that I'm aware of. I am not the most up-to-date on the family tree."

  "How long will you be in Kenmare?"

  "Five days. We arrived last night. I walked around a little this morning, but I'll be doing more exploring tomorrow and the next day." He paused. "So you grew up in Kenmare?"

  "I did, just down the road from your family. As Ellie probably told you, your great-grandfather was my first physics teacher. He opened up a world of possibility for me. I owe most of my accomplishments to him."

  "That's a generous thought," Ian said.

  "Not generous—truthful. Donald taught me to question everything, to believe in the impossible."

  "It sounds like he was a dreamer, too."

  "Ah, that he was. Ireland is made up of dreamers, and your great-grandfather was able to use his love of science as the foundation for his dreams. He believed that science could solve all of the world's problems, but we would need scientists who were willing to push beyond every barrier and leap over every obstacle to make that happen. He taught his students to take risks. He pushed us to keep working against all odds. I think of him when I'm tempted to quit an experiment."

  "I'm curious," Ian said. "It's none of my business, but I wonder why you decided to come back here and teach. Is it a temporary change or are you really stepping away from the companies you helped to build?"

  Seamus hesitated and then he said, "I've had some health issues."

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

  "It's all right. It was time to come home. I just wish now that I'd come back earlier." Seamus's eyes filled with sadness. "Once upon a time, I had a wife and two beautiful daughters. But my work took me far away and for too many months, too many years. My wife divorced me almost eleven years ago and took my daughters to America. I'm finally home, but I'm alone. It's what I deserve."