The Delaney Woman by Jeanette Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

notes. She recognized the tune, “A Brown-Haired Lass.” Her father had favored the pipes. Only true musicians could play such an instrument. She hadn’t heard them in years. She smiled and turned over. It was a lovely welcome to Ireland even if it was only her imagination.

Four
    T he child was beautiful in the fey, flame-lit way the ancient bards had immortalized in songs only the clever and very skilled could still play. At her feet sat a sweet-faced dog with a shiny red coat, the dog in the photograph. There was no sign of Susan Whelan. Kellie stifled her disappointment. She very much wanted to place a face with the voice on the phone last night.
    Heather pulled away from her father and walked across the room to Kellie. The dog didn’t move.
    â€œHello.” Kellie held out her hand.
    â€œHello,” the little girl replied politely. “Will you be with us for long?”
    Kellie swallowed. Would children always be difficult for her? If so, her job was going to be a problem. “Not too long,” she replied.
    â€œWill you stay for the festival?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” said Kellie. “When is the festival?”
    â€œNot for a few weeks,” said Tom.
    â€œI might be here that long.”
    â€œIt’s a wedding festival,” Heather announced.
    Kelly was intrigued. “What’s that?”
    Tom raised his eyebrows. “I thought everyone in Ireland knew about our wedding festival.”
    â€œI don’t.”
    Tom explained. “Men and women from all over the world come to Banburren looking for a happy-ever-after ending.”
    â€œDo they find it?”
    â€œI imagine some have. No one I know.”
    Heather’s eyes shone. “Everyone makes puddings and we have a carnival.”
    Kellie laughed. It felt strange. How long had it been since she’d really laughed? “I can see where her priorities are.”
    Tom’s eyes were on her face, narrowed, considering. “You’re a teacher but you didn’t say what level.”
    â€œSecond grade,” Kellie said. “I teach children Heather’s age.”
    Heather slipped her hand inside Kellie’s. “I hope you stay,” she said honestly. “I like ladies. The washroom always smells lovely after they leave it.”
    Again, Kellie laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She sat down on the couch. Reaching out, she drew the little girl to her. “What do you do when you’re not in school?”
    The child tilted her head. Her soft straight hair, the color of deerskin, swung across her cheek. How Kellie envied that hair, the straight lovely swing of it.
    â€œI play with my friends or watch the telly. Sometimes Da and I walk Lexi. I like visiting my friends,” she confided. “They all have mothers who make bread and jam sandwiches and they sweep the stairs and hang the sheets to dry.”
    â€œDo they?”
    Heather nodded. “Da does all that now. I don’t know what he’d do if we had a mother.”
    â€œHe would do what fathers do, whatever that is.” Kellie’s memories of her father were restricted, most of them reduced to helping him to stagger home from various pubs.
    Heather thought a moment. “They eat food, I think.”
    Kellie chuckled. The little girl was lovely, warm and unspoiled. “What do you like to eat?”
    â€œPuddings,” she said promptly. “I like those the best. Da won’t let me eat them first.” The little girl brightened. “Do you have a little girl?”
    â€œNo,” said Kellie. The darkness began to close in on her again.
    Instinctively, with a sensitivity beyond her age, Heather seemed to understand Kellie’s distress. She rested her hand on Kellie’s knee. “I like you,” she pronounced. She turned to her father. “I like her, Da. I want her to stay with us.”
    Tom separated himself from the wall and walked toward