Irish End Games, Books 4-5-6

by Kiernan-Lewis, Susan

  “Oh, you’ve decided, have you?”

  “Aye. I’ve a mind to see me own family so they can meet me bride.”

  “Are we not family to you?”

  “You are, sure, Antonio. But I have a father and I guess I haven’t been acting like he means much to me but you know, he’s me da and…and I miss him.”

  “I see. You a-miss him,” Antonio said, mocking Gavin’s words. “Before, you are not acting anything like this. It is like you have no family.”

  “Well, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression but I do and I hope you understand. Sophia and I will be going to the compound today.”

  “No problemo, Gavin,” Antonia said, his eyes glinting like malevolent slits from a suit of armor. “You will of course send my daughter to me to say goodbye, yes?”

  “Sure. And again, thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “Not at all, Gavin. Not at all.”

  Gavin headed back to the tent with a plate of breakfast for Sophia but she was nowhere to be seen. That wasn’t unusual. She often hung out with her cousins, gossiping and braiding each other’s hair. It was strange though today of all days, Gavin thought. A travel day was a whole lot of packing and work. Perhaps Sophia wanted to spend time with her family before they split up. Satisfied that this was the reason for her absence, Gavin collapsed the tent and rolled their bedding and clothing to fit in the back of the wagon.

  The excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing his father and everyone again at the compound was mixed with the anxiety caused by the fact that it was midday and he still hadn’t seen Sophia. The other wagons had begun to line up. He noticed they were pointing west. It looked like Antonio had decided which coast to set out for. Gavin frowned. He wouldn’t have recommended going west this late in the year but something about his conversation with Antonio this morning made him think his opinion might not be welcome.

  He waved to several people riding by in wagons until he finally saw Sophia running up to where their own wagon was parked.

  “Hey, where’ve you been all day?” he called to her. “Saying goodbye to folks?”

  Her face was as serious as he’d ever seen her. Even the usual olive glow of her skin had a white pallor as if she’d walked across a grave.

  “Sophia? Are you all right, luv?”

  She climbed into the wagon and sat with her hands on her lap in the front seat. She looked at him. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be a part from my family,” she said.

  “Are you serious?” Gavin climbed up on the wagon. From this height he could see the line of wagons moving out of the woods. Their wagon was last in line. Leaving this late meant they’d be traveling at night.

  Sophia did not look at him. “I’m young and not used to being away from my mama,” she said. Those words didn’t sound like the Sophia he knew. They sounded like words in a script she’d memorized and was spouting back. Badly. Words her father had written.

  “Did you see your father?”

  “I did.” She held her chin up looking like she was ready to defend her decision and her father too if it came to that.

  “And he talked you out of leaving with me?”

  “No,” she said, pulling her shawl around her. “I just don’t want to leave my family.” She turned to him and said fiercely, “You go if you’re so determined!”

  Gavin picked up the reins. He urged the horse forward with a flick across its hind quarters.

  “We’re married now,” he said. “We’re not going separate ways. We’ll stay with your family if that’s what you want.”

  She sighed and placed her hand on his thigh. But she still stared straight ahead. They rode silently for several hours, with just the sounds of Antonio up ahead calling encouragement or shouting orders. When it got dark, Sophia unpacked a small package of cold chicken and they ate without stopping, their horse following the one in front who followed the one in front of it.

  What madness was it to travel in the dark? To what purpose? Were they in a hurry? Was someone following them?

  After they’d eaten, Sophia dug out one of the heavy blankets from the back of the wagon and they huddled under it to stay warm. By the time Antonio finally led the caravan off the road, Sophia had fallen asleep on Gavin’s shoulder. She awoke as the wagon pitched and rolled over the uneven ground.

  Gavin didn’t recognize the area but it was so dark he likely wouldn’t have even if they’d been right outside the compound. It was a cold night but dry. Antonio sent word back to them that they were to sleep in their wagon tonight and not to build a fire. Gavin unharnessed the horse and hobbled him, letting him graze nearby while Sophia prepared a soft spot for the two of them to life down in the back of the wagon. Gavin wasn’t finished questioning Sophia about why she changed her mind about leaving with him but they were both too tired to face it tonight.

  *****

  An hour after they stopped, Gavin and Sophia held each other under the blankets in the back of their wagon. Gavin was sure he was so tired that he’d fall straight to sleep without the worry of needless thoughts and questions dragging him back to consciousness. His da used to always say there was nothing like an honest day’s work to have a man sleep soundly each night no matter what else might be worrying him. He missed his father, missed even his bitching and moaning.

  He held Sophia to his chest and was surprised but not shocked when she reached for him under the covers. They coupled noisily in a burst of energetic youth and need. They both knew there was something she wasn’t telling him. A fool could see that. But the honesty of her body, and her love for him was the gift she gave in the midst of the lie. In a way it felt like her way of asking him to trust her. At least for now. He kissed her face as she succumbed to slumber and he wondered how he’d so quickly learned to read her so well.

  He must have dropped off himself because the next thing he knew, the spot beside him where Sophia should have been was cold and vacate. He sat up and saw her looking over the side of the wagon.

  “Sophia?” he whispered. She turned to look at him, her face ravaged with sadness. In the quiet space where her reply to him should have been, he heard crying. He stood up to see where the sound was coming from.

  “Gavin, no!” Sophia cried hoarsely, pulling him back to a seated position.

  The sobbing was coming from the wagon in front of them. Gavin knew it belonged to Sophia’s Aunt Bella.

  He turned to Sophia in bewilderment. “What is—”

  “Please, Gavin, don’t. It’s over. He’ll leave her alone now.”

  He looked at the dark hulk of the wagon in front of them.

  Bianca?

  “I’m begging you. If you love me, leave it alone. You will only make it worse.”

  Gavin turned and listened, his heart pounding in double time, to the quietly fading sobs of Sophia’s mother.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Walking in the woods holding a loaded rifle at night wasn’t the smartest thing Sarah had ever done. But it was either that or go back to the Jeep and wait and she was done waiting. Why the hell hadn’t Mike come back? It occurred to her that he might have spotted a hare and decided to bag dinner. But in the dark? Was that likely? It was possible he’d think a roast rabbit tonight would make up for whatever worry his not returning right away might cause her. She shouldered the rifle grimly. He was a man after all.

  She walked a quarter of a mile in the general direction that Mike had gone when she saw a firelight flickering through the branches and bushes in the distance. A campfire or at least some kind of settlement. When she stopped walking she heard voices. Sarah frowned. There was no way Mike hadn’t heard or seen this.

  Did that mean he was there? Was he being held captive? She checked her rifle again. He’d been unarmed before he could reach the cache of hidden guns. If he was intercepted before he could get to it…

  Suddenly the branches parted in front of her and someone jumped in front of her and screamed. Startled, Sarah screamed too and swung the rif
le down but he was too close to get a bead on…and too short. She stumbled backwards, clutching the gun to her chest, her mouth open in astonishment.

  “I found ‘er! I found ‘er!” the child screeched, jumping up and down. “Da! She’s right here! Da! Hurry!” The child reached up and tugged at Sarah’s jacket.

  It was a little girl with golden curls that bounced maniacally as the child jumped. In the dark, she looked like an angel from a fairy story—or even one of the little people come to life.

  “Sarah? Is that you?”

  Mike!

  “I’m bringin’ ‘er, Da! Don’t worry!” the child said, turning and leading Sarah toward the flickering light that now blossomed into a full campsite. As Sarah approached, she tried to shake loose of the child’s grip. As she stepped into a clearing she could see people centered with a small cookfire.

  “Sarah, over here!” Mike called. He sat in one of the salvaged Jeep seats, his bare foot in the lap of a young woman who was carefully wrapping it in a bandage. A tall man with wispy reddish blond hair hurried over to where Sarah and the child had stopped.

  “Mrs. Donovan!” the man said, “I was just sending someone out for you. Come sit by the fire. Himself has had a tumble as you’ll see.”

  “He stepped into one of Da’s traps!” the little girl said, still holding Sarah’s hand.

  “Elise, petal,” said the woman bandaging Mike’s foot. “Let Mrs. Donovan sit, if you please.”

  Sarah looked at the man and then back at Mike who had a remarkably sultan like pose going on and didn’t seem inclined in the least to be moving his foot away from the woman or her lap.

  “You did what?” Sarah asked as she approached Mike. “I was worried sick about you!”

  “Ah, that’s our fault,” the man said. “We should’ve sent the little uns for you sooner.”

  “I told you, Da!” Elise said indignantly.

  “I stepped into a rabbit trap,” Mike said, patting the vacant Jeep seat next to him. “Just about took me foot off at the ankle.”

  “Seriously?” Sarah hurried to him and dropped to her knees to look at his foot but it was bandaged tightly. Without antibiotics even a small cut was dangerous these days. “Did you wash it first?”

  “Aye,” the young woman said, patting the bandage and then leaning across Mike’s foot to shake Sarah’s hand. “I’m Molly Connor.”

  Sarah sank into the chair next to Mike and shook her hand. “Sarah Donovan,” she said with a sigh. The exhaustion of the day and the anxiety of her ten-minute walk in the woods was culminating in a ferocious headache.

  “Sure, we’ve heard nothing but Mrs. Sarah Donovan for weeks now, haven’t we?” Molly said.

  “It’s Darby Connor,” Mike said, reaching out to take Sarah’s hand. “Cor, darlin’, your hand’s like ice.”

  The man who initially greeted her came and draped a blanket across Sarah’s knees. She could see at least a dozen people in the background in tents and there were two other smaller cookfires scattered among them. Ponies stood quietly next to their carts and munched oats in bags hung from hooks on trees.

  “You don’t remember me, Missus?” Darby said. “I came to your compound last month looking for medicine for me family.”

  She did remember. There was so much going on at the time that it was all just a blur. He’d come saying there was sickness in his village and that two girls had gone missing on Midsummer’s Eve there last summer.

  “Of course, Mr. Connor,” she said wearily. “Imagine bumping into you here.”

  “Well, we’re traveling these days,” he said easily, placing a hand on the young woman’s knee. “Living off the land well enough. Staying healthy, too.”

  “Have you run into more sickness?” Sarah asked. She eyed Mike’s foot wondering how bad it was and if it would prevent them from traveling. He didn’t look like he would be hoofing it down the road any time soon.

  “Pockets,” Darby said. “Here and there.”

  “The government says it’s not come to Ireland yet,” Sarah said.

  “They’re wrong,” Molly said.

  “Or they’re lying,” Darby said. “Enough of that. Now that we’re all together, you’ll stay with us, I hope for as long as you need to or want to.”

  “That is very kind of you, Mr. Connor.”

  “Call me Darby, please. And giving me raisins, chocolates, energy bars and enough antibiotics to last me family a full winter, that was kindness beyond any I’d any hope to expect.”

  The little girl crept back to Sarah and slipped her hand into Sarah’s.

  “What do you say, Elise?” her mother said.

  “Thank you,” Elise said smiling at Sarah. “Da said you was our angel.”

  Sarah leaned down to the girl and whispered in her ear, holding back tears as she spoke. “And now you’re mine.”

  The pony cart was piled high with duvets and blankets by the time Mike and Sarah climbed into it for the night. They were fed, warmed and cared for by the Connors and their tribe—a merry group of friends and family who had once been officemates and neighbors and were now a small traveling village unto themselves.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t crawl right back to you, darlin’” Mike said, slurring his words a tad from the copious wine and brandy they’d all drunk after dinner in front of the fire.

  “How bad is it, do you think?” Sarah whispered.

  “It’ll be a day or two before I can walk decent.”

  Sarah wasn’t disappointed to hear they wouldn’t be immediately on their way again. Sometime during the evening as she held Elise in her lap and listened to Molly talking about how to braise the rabbit so that all the parts cook without overcooking any one part, Sarah realized she missed the fellowship and warmth of a community. She missed Fiona. She missed Siobhan, too, and her heart squeezed painfully to think of her.

  But the care and affection so willingly given to both her and Mike by the Connors—all on account of a spontaneous act of generosity on Sarah’s part—had filled up the cistern in her heart and helped her to feel human again. And while it didn’t eliminate the memories of poor Phelan and Katie and the suddenness with which they were taken, it did help to soothe and ameliorate the pain by supplanting it with love and care.

  As Sarah looked at her husband’s face as he slept, she realized that if part of her despondency had its roots in her urge to give up, then the Connors’ kindness had strengthened and galvanized her spirit. As she’d looked around the campfire earlier and watched their faces, she realized it wasn’t a picture of people untouched by horror or evil she was seeing, it was a picture of people banded together in spite of it, and bonded by their conviction that evil would not win.

  The gentle snores coming from Mike made Sarah smile. She was glad his foot wasn’t bothering him. She also knew that Gavin had been missing longer than John and unlike with John, they’d had no clue as to what had become of Gavin. And yet Mike had been resolute and strong, unfailing in his good humor to go forward and support Sarah when she flagged.

  No, we won’t give up and we will find them. Sarah leaned back into the cushions of the pony cart and saw the stars overhead in the winter sky, bright as diamonds. And we won’t go home or stop until we do. Desperate and foolish it may be, she thought as she closed her eyes. It still beats the alternative. And as she drifted off to sleep she felt the gentle flutter of a thousand butterflies tickling her on the inside.

  *****

  The morning after Gavin listened to his mother-in-law sob herself to sleep, he fed the horse and tacked him back up in harness. Sophia spoke little. Bianca didn’t appear the next morning and by the time they were ready to leave, only Sophia’s Aunt Bella sat in the driver’s seat of the wagon in front of them.

  Gavin turned to Sophia as she sat mute and still by his side.

  “You want to explain what happened last night?” He felt Sophia flinch at his words and he stared at her with bewilderment. Did she think he was capable of hitting her?


  “Sophia. Look at me.”

  She turned to him, her eyes fearful.

  “It could’ve been any reason,” she said quietly. “But most likely it was because of what Benito did. To us.”

  Gavin reined the horse to a stop and put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. She shrank from him.

  “I’m not asking what possible reason your father could’ve had for whatever he did to your mother last night, Sophia. Ye ken there is no good reason, don’t you?”

  She looked at him in confusion. “I’m pretty sure it was on account of Benito.”

  There was obviously no getting through to her. Gavin turned his attention back to the horse and urged him forward. “So he’s done this before.”

  “Papa gets angry sometimes.”

  “We’re leaving, Sophia,” he said firmly, his eyes on the road ahead of him. “We can’t stay here.”

  She put a hand on his arm. Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “Please, amore mio,” she said. “For my sake, please no.”

  “It’s mostly for your sake that we have to,” he blurted in frustration. “Or Jaysus, any kiddies we have. The man’s a lunatic. You know that, right?”

  “He’s my father, Gavin.” She dropped her hand from his arm. Gavin couldn’t help but wonder when the light had gone from her eyes. Was this the real Sophia?

  “Is this how you want to live? Listening to your mother get wailed on anytime his lordship is mispleased? Did he beat you, too?”

  Sophia didn’t answer.

  “Sophia?”

  “Did not your own father whip you when you misbehaved as a child?”

  Gavin rubbed his hand across his face. “He walloped me, sure. From time to time. Is that what we’re talking about?”

  She looked away. “He wouldn’t do it now that I’m married.”

  The thought came to him like an adder’s strike—was that the reason she married him?

  “We need to leave, Sophia. I don’t want to kill your father—or your fat little slob of a brother either for that matter. Even without formal laws in Ireland, it wouldn’t set well with me.”