After several moments of struggling to clear his thoughts, Sean began to recall some of what he’d done the day before. The breakfast with Eamon and Ashling was clear in his memory, and he was beginning to recall the stroll around the grounds of the home. He’d gone upstairs to rest for a short time and the next thing he could recall was waking up this morning feeling the worse for wear. It seemed impossible that a one-hour nap had turned into sleeping away most of yesterday and all night too. He knew he’d been tired when he went upstairs, but this was ridiculous.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself for another attempt to stand. His legs were still a bit wobbly, but he managed to stay on his feet. The dizziness began to diminish, as he made his way into the bathroom and turned on the cold water. A couple of splashes of very cold water on his face, nearly took his breath away but helped clear the cobwebs out of his mind.
“What a mess,” he mumbled as he stared at his reflection in the large bathroom mirror. “You look like twenty miles of bad road.”
He grabbed his toiletry bag and dug through it until he found his toothbrush and toothpaste. He gave his teeth a vigorous brushing and felt better after rinsing his mouth with cold water.
“There’s no hope for that without a hot shower and shampoo,” he said, while trying to smooth down his bed hair with one hand.
Sean smiled at his unkempt reflection, but then his smile turned into a frown. He rubbed his hands over his pajamas again and recalled the unease he’d felt when he first looked at them this morning.
“When did I get into my pajamas?” he mumbled.
When he’d come upstairs for a power nap, he was sure he’d flopped on the bed with all his clothes on except his shoes. It came to him, with a start, that someone must have helped him into pajamas before bed last night. Sean had no recollection of that taking place, but the evidence of it was right before his eyes.
“Let’s hope it was Eamon,” he grumbled, shaking his head.
After a shower and shave, Sean felt much better, although the dizziness and weakness were still there as background irritants. While dressing, he continued to wonder how he’d lost almost an entire day to sleep. Even taking the accident into account, it just wasn’t like him to sleep like he was in a coma.
He glanced out the window to see if he could spot Ashling or Eamon outside. When his gaze fell on the willow tree, a strange feeling rumbled through him. He closed his eyes and tried to recall a bit of memory that was there, just out of reach. After several moments, he gave up in frustration. He recalled that his mother had once told him to leave it alone if he couldn’t recall something. She promised that it would come to him sometime soon when he was busy thinking of something else. He’d found that she was usually right and tried to relax and not worry about whatever was troubling him.
Sean glanced at his watch as he descended the stairs and was surprised to see that it was already after ten. He was afraid he’d missed breakfast, and he was absolutely starving. When he stepped into the kitchen, hoping to find something he could whip up for a late breakfast, he was amazed to see a plate full of waffles sitting on the table. Someone had prepared a gourmet quality breakfast of waffles with sausage and bacon on the side. Three flavors of syrup were also on the table, along with butter and orange juice.
“It’s feels like it just came out of the waffle iron,” Sean said, surprised to feel the warmth coming off the plate.
It was almost as if someone knew the exact moment, he’d be coming downstairs and set the breakfast table at just the right moment. That was a little strange, but certainly not the strangest thing that had happened to him over the past two days. Strange or not, he was going to enjoy breakfast.
Sean sat down and dug into his waffles, after drowning them in butter and syrup. He’d worry about his cholesterol another day. He went through the waffles in record time and was enjoying a juicy sausage when he heard the saloon doors to the kitchen swing open.
“And who told you to help yourself to my breakfast, Mr. Quinn? After I slaved away at the stove to get everything just the way I like it. Sure and true, I’ve never seen the like of this,” Ashling said from behind him.
Sean stopped his fork full of sausage halfway to his mouth. He felt a surge of heat rush up his neck and into his cheeks and knew he was blushing deep red again.
“I…It never crossed my mind that…I’m so sorry to have just assumed all of this was for me,” he finally stammered as he stood and faced her.
To his surprise, Ashling was covering a smile with her hand, and a wonderful merriment filled her sparkling green eyes. Sean understood immediately that she was having fun at his expense and smiled as he shook his head.
“You must enjoy seeing a grown man blush, Ashling. In my entire life, I don’t think I’ve gone beet-red as much as I have since meeting you.”
She couldn’t hold back a giggle, and the sound of her laughter charmed Sean and he chuckled too.
I’m so sorry to be teasing you all the time, but you must confess you’re an appealingly easy target,” Ashling said.
“Others who know me wouldn’t agree, but I admit I’ve been easy fodder for your quick wit.”
I appreciate you being good-natured about it, Sean,” she said, as she put her hand on his shoulder and guided him back to the table. “Now sit down and finish your breakfast. I really did make it just for you. Of course, I had no choice since the rest of us ate hours ago.”
Sean laughed as he sat down. While he finished off the sausage that was still on his fork, he realized how pleasing it was to feel her warm hand on his shoulder. “Well, I have been sick, you know. But I must say that I’ve never slept away almost an entire day and night before.”
“Well, if you continue to sleep like the dead, you’ll be back among the living in no time.”
“I do feel pretty well this morning. Are you up to showing me around town, or do you have a load of work ahead of you?”
“As it happens, I have my rounds to cover this morning. If you don’t mind mixing my errands in with a bit of sightseeing, then we can soon be on our way.”
“Sounds like a very exciting day.”
“I doubt you’ll find going on rounds all that exciting, but at least you’ll see the sights and meet some town folk.”
Sean had a sudden impression he was being set up as Ashling’s target again, but it was probably just his imagination.
Chapter Three
You can’t kiss an Irish girl unexpectedly.
You can only kiss her sooner than she thought you would.
~ Old Irish Saying ~
By the time Sean had finished breakfast and rinsed his dishes in the sink, Ashling had gathered her things together. Sean grabbed his light jacket since there was a chill to the air despite the bright sunshine.
He had dressed casually in jeans and a pullover sweater. Sean was surprised to see that Ashling had changed into a pretty, flowered dress with a black belt that cinched the dress tightly around her trim waist. She wore a cream-colored, brushed cotton cardigan sweater over the dress. Add in her thick auburn hair and sparkling green eyes, and she looked every inch the classic Irish beauty.
“What’s in there?” he asked, pointing at an old, brown, leather bag she was carrying. “It looks like an old leather doctor’s bag from the days when they still made house calls. Don’t tell me you’re the doctor in Rundimahair.”
“Oh no, we have a fine doctor here who runs a state-of-the art medical clinic. It’s as fine as any you’d see on the west coast. I’ll take you by there if we have time.”
“So, what’s in the bag if you’re not a doctor?”
“They’re just odds and ends that I carry with me whenever I make my rounds. I’m what you might call a naturopath—a person who uses herbs and natural potions for healing.”
“I’ll have to introduce you to my office manager. She’s a great believer in all things natural. She’s always trying to get me to take some foul-tasting concoction or another.”
“I take it you’re not a true believer in Mother Nature’s healing arts then.”
“I’m open minded about it for the most part. I must admit that the vitamins Jennie gives me seem to work wonders. But if I’m really sick, I think I’ll stick with an experienced doctor. One who preferably graduated from medical school in the top of his class.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if you happen to have a relapse while we’re wandering around town.”
While they were enjoying talking together, they’d walked into the center of town. Sean was impressed by the layout of the small town. The center was a town square that was mostly green grass, trees and playground equipment. In the center of the square was a large gazebo that looked like it was used as the centerpiece for concerts or town gatherings. It all looked like something right out of a movie set.
The streets were narrow by today’s standards, but they were well laid out in a grid around the town square. It was a much better design than Sean had seen in many old coastal towns.
Most of the buildings were two-story attached with a thick stucco finish, painted in a variety of bright colors. The roof overhangs were all finely detailed, decorative wood painted in more subdued colors that blended well with the building’s primary color. The look and style of the commercial buildings and most of the homes seemed old European, although it was obvious they had been updated and renovated over the years. Sean was impressed by how well maintained the town was. Everyone seemed to take great pride in keeping their property in near-perfect condition.
“What do you think of our little town so far?”
“It’s a wonderful place, Ashling. Most coastal towns I visit are not so beautifully cared for. In fact, some of them are quite run down.”
“We’re a close-knit group, and we’re all anxious to keep Rundimahair a place we can all take pride in.”
“The pride of ownership really shines through. It looks to be older than any town I’ve come across on the west coast. The age and the old European style are quite unique. With all the Irish accents I’m hearing, I assume the town was founded by Irish immigrants. Do you know when it was first settled?”
“The origins of the town are something of a mystery. No one seems to know exactly when it was settled or by whom. I don’t think it’s as old as it appears, but we all love the original style and have worked hard to maintain it. That’s why we still have cobblestone streets, even though asphalt would provide a much smoother ride.”
He wasn’t sure what it was about her response that bothered him. On the surface, it seemed to answer his question, but it didn’t really satisfy his growing curiosity about Rundimahair. Every time he asked a question about the town’s history, she gave what seemed to be a well-rehearsed response without ever answering his question in depth.
“Here’s my first stop,” Ashling said, turning into the yard of a small but well-kept home. “You’re welcome to look around town on your own or accompany me on my visit with Mrs. O’Leary.”
“A fine Irish name,” Sean said. Would I be in the way if I came in with you? I’m curious to see the inside of some of these old homes.”
“Not in the least; I’m just checking in to see how she’s doing. She’s been a wee bit under the weather the past month or so, but I think she’s well on the mend by now. To tell the truth, she’ll love the company. Mrs. O’Leary is quite a talker, and she’ll enjoy having someone new to share her stories with.”
“Lead the way. I’m always up for a good story.”
A diminutive woman answered the door almost immediately after Ashling’s gentle knock on the heavy, mahogany door. She must have been waiting by the window, watching for them.
She looked to be in her late seventies or possibly early eighties. Despite her advanced age, Mrs. O’Leary had fiery red hair with only a touch of gray in it. She wasn’t much over five-feet tall and was slightly stooped. If Sean had to guess, he’d say she was barely a hundred pounds—if that. He wondered if her withered appearance was due to the illness Ashling had mentioned.
Her home was decorated very simply but beautifully. Sean began to wonder if everyone in town was a professional decorator. The colorful oval rugs that lay over the immaculate mahogany floor were obviously old, but still very attractive. The furniture looked like it came over with the original pilgrims. The solid oak frames could have used a touch of refinishing, but the plush cushions looked to have been recovered recently.
Sean noticed that the plumbing and electrical looked like it had been added long after the home was built. The lighting and the kitchen sink appeared to be right out of the 1920s.
Mrs. O’Leary had a small fire going in the large stone fireplace. The fireplace, with the old oak mantle and the gray stone hearth, provided a warm, comforting centerpiece for the home.
“And how are we this fine day, Mrs. O’Leary?” Ashling asked, as she set her leather bag on the couch and gave the old woman a gentle hug.
“Oh, as good as a worn-out old woman can be. And is all well with you, my darlin’ girl?” Mrs. O’Leary asked, returning the embrace with surprising strength.
“Couldn’t be better if I tried,” Ashling replied, smiling.
“And you look as good as you feel, dearie. It’s a never endin’ mystery how a beauty like you hasn’t been snatched up long ago.”
“Now, now, none of your matchmaking today, Mrs. O’Leary,” Ashling said. “I’ve come to visit you, not discuss my pathetic love life.”
“And truer words were never spoken than when I say, there isn’t a man within a hundred miles of here that deserves a sweet lass like you. But I see you’ve brought a fine-looking outsider with you. Could he be the apple of your eye, then?”
Sean and Ashling both had to laugh at that audacious comment. Mrs. O’Leary smiled, pleased to have gotten a rise out of both of her visitors.
“He is the man who nearly ran his vehicle into my Da’s furniture shop. He’s staying with us for a few days while he recuperates from his accident. I’m just showing him about our little town and introducing him to some of our most illustrious citizens. Of course we started with you,” Ashling said.
Sean held out his hand and smiled at Mrs. O’Leary. “I’m Sean Quinn; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh and a fine Irish name to boot,” Mrs. O’Leary replied, shaking his hand vigorously. “How long do you expect to be with us, Sean?”
“It will probably be just a few days. As soon as I fully recover from the accident, then I’ll be on my way,” he replied, as he pulled his hand back from her two-handed grip.
“Isn’t it a stroke of the good Lord’s luck that you had your accident in Rundimahair, then? There isn’t a finer healer in this great wide world than our dear, Ashling. She’ll fix whatever ails you and have you fit as a fiddle in no time, she will.”
“Speaking of healing,” Ashling said, interrupting Mrs. O’Leary’s long-winded praise. I’ve brought you another month’s supply of your tonic. I’m fairly certain that you won’t be needing anymore when this bottle is gone.”
“And you’re that sure that I’m going to be as well as I can be after this month’s dosing? If that’s so, then I suppose I should be grateful that I’m still on my feet and walking about, even if each step I take pains me something awful.”
“We should all be as fit as you are, Mrs. O’Leary,” Ashling said, laughing. Your color is better than it’s been in months.”
“Oh and speaking of color, did you bring my other bottle of . . . medicine?”
“Are you sure you need it? Your hair is as fiery red as I ever remember seeing it.”
“There you go telling secrets in front of your fine young beau,” Mrs. O’Leary said. “Is it a sin of vanity if I want my hair to stay the same color it was when the good Lord sent me into this world of trouble and strife?”
Sean laughed and said, “It would be a tremendous loss to the world if your fiery mane was toned down in the slightest, Mrs. O’Leary. Whatever has to be done to maintain t
he natural beauty you were born with is an essential duty.”
“Oh my, my. Strong, handsome and a silver- tongued rascal along with it. You’re a lucky girl to have found a man such as this,” Mrs. O’Leary said to Ashling.
“I’ll grant you the silver-tongued devil part of that. However, as I explained, Sean’s not my beau, Mrs. O’Leary.”
“So you say, dear. So you say.”
“Be off with you. If you don’t stop, I’ll give your hair potion to Mrs. Flannery,” Ashling said.
“And why would you be doing such a terrible thing to a dear old lady like her, Ashling? It’s not dignified for a woman as senior as her to be trying to turn back the clock. Besides, her gray hair suits her personality to a tee.”
“She’s at least twenty years younger than you,” Ashling replied, smiling.
“Be careful, dear. This is how vicious rumors get started. I was no more than a glint in my dear father’s eye on Annabelle Flannery’s wedding day.”
“So you say. So you say,” Ashling said. “Now, if I can get you to be still for a few minutes, I’ll check to be sure you’re as well as you seem to be.”
“I’ll be as still as stone, I will,” Mrs. O’Leary said.
For the next few minutes, Ashling examined Mrs. O’Leary. It was nothing like anything Sean had ever seen before. She held a clear crystal about the size of a golf ball up against Mrs. O’Leary’s chest, while she touched her forehead for about thirty seconds. Ashling’s long, slender fingers repeated the process, moving to her patient’s eyes, chin, temple and the base of her throat.
“All is well and you’re sure to outlive us all,” Ashling said when she’d completed her strange exam. “Finish the potion I gave you, and I’ll be back to check on you next month.”
“And will you be bringing Sean with you again?” Mrs. O’Leary asked hopefully.
“I’m sure Mr. Quinn will be long gone back to the real world and making money hand over fist by next month.”
Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure Page 3