THE BETTER PART OF VALOR. Morgan Mackinnon
and napkins. She looked up with a teasing expression.
“Where did you put them then?”
Tom coughed. “I gave Myles his old room, the one he usually stays in. Where else?”
Alice put her hands on her hips. “I mean, my Lovaduck, where did you put the lady?”
“Oh. Well, the room next door was fresh made up last week, so thinking I was to save you some work, I put her there.”
“You old scamp. You know as well as I do something is going on here. Your wee brother has never brought a woman with him when he’s come to visit. Do you suppose…?”
Tom turned red. “Ah, Alice, do not be suspecting your own brother-in-law of making free and loose with a poor widow woman. He’s a better Catholic than that.”
“I like her. She’s quite pretty and would be a good match for our Myles. He needs a levelheaded woman to tame him down a bit.”
“We will see. Well, woman, is our lunch ready?”
Alice was pleased. She so far knew their female guest was a widow and she had Tom’s opinion there was no hanky-panky going on. Men were not terribly perceptive when it came to matters of the heart, though, so she and Mag would have to keep their eyes open. Why, some men didn’t even realize they were getting married until their wedding night.
Before they had time to say more, a small trap with horse pulled into the drive and Cresta got to meet Ellen and Fanny. Margaret had already told Cresta to call her Mag; Ellen and Fanny were Ell and Fan. The girls were very similar—same bodies, same hair, same blue eyes. Fan was very friendly, but Cresta thought Ell to be a bit distant until she learned the girl was mourning the loss of her fiancé just a month earlier. Tensions between England and Ireland ran deep; the Keoghs could be described as avid Nationalists and opposed the Unionists who were not averse to the idea of English rule. Ell’s fiancé had been caught in a brawl between the two factions, and it did not turn out well.
The two sisters had been into Bagenalstown to the fishmonger to purchase a package of what turned out to be the most delicious smoked trout Cresta had ever tasted. The trout was accompanied by Alice’s homemade whiskey cake, Mag’s sour cream dip, scones with clotted cream, Irish eggs, boiled potatoes, and for dessert, Irish shortbread. All served with tea or whiskey.
Myles finally leaned back, replete with the feast and on his third glass of whiskey.
“Wonderful. No one can cook like our Alice and my sisters.” He turned to Cresta to apologize. “I am sorry, but I have not yet had the pleasure of having you cook for me. We shall have to remedy that. This meal is very appreciated as Cresta and I were not up in time to have breakfast at the hotel.”
Cresta, who was not as mellowed out on her tea as Myles was on his whiskey, hastened to explain that she and Myles had attended some musical theater the previous night, lost track of time, and had only reached their respective rooms at nearly one in the morning. She emphasized “respective rooms” slightly so there would be no misunderstanding.
After lunch was finished, Cresta was ready to help take plates and platters into the kitchen, but Mag took her arm and led her into the front hall. The center planked hallway was quite wide with rag rugs on the floor and a sofa sitting against the wall across from the staircase leading upwards. Mag showed her the room on the left of the front door, which was called the formal room. The furniture here was nice, arranged carefully with two chairs upholstered to match the blue and gray striped sofa. Cresta counted two other casual chairs in gray with blue trim and a number of wooden-backed chairs. There was a fireplace, side tables, and a floral woolen rug on the floor in shades of blue, gray, green, and pink. It was here the church Father would be seated when he came to visit and the girls would bring out tea and cookies or scones. The room also served for special guests such as the headmaster, the constable, or the local town doctor. Mag laughed and remarked when the children were little and prone to naughtiness, they were strictly forbidden from being in this room without supervision.
On the other side of the hall was the “flop room,” which was for the family and intimate friends. Sofas were a bit threadbare in places, and there were no neat tatted doilies on the chair arms or backs. Several cassocks were scattered around on the floor, and in evenings, there was nearly always a fire in the hearth. This is where the family gathered to talk about the day, make decisions, discuss family business. There was whiskey on the sideboard and photos of Myles on the mantle. Other photos were scattered about as well, but Cresta noticed that the ones of Myles were arranged almost as a shrine to their brave relative.
A handsomely carved curio cabinet was centered between a sofa and a chair, the focal point of the room, and was filled with Keogh family treasures. Mag pointed out a delicate china cup and saucer that had belonged to their great-grandmother, their grandfather’s watch, the paternal grandmother’s golden bracelet, a few old coins, some pretty glass buttons, and a ring. It was a beautiful little thing, scalloped decoration on the top, set with three tiny diamonds.
Mag smiled sadly. “Aye, that was our mother’s wedding ring. She died while Myles was off fighting in Italy. He could not come home.” Then a tear ran down Mag’s cheek. “We kept her ring in hopes another Keogh woman will someday wear it. Would you like to see it?”
Cresta said she would, so Mag pulled the little ring out and laid it in Cresta’s hand. When urged to try it on, she demurred. It wouldn’t be right. It belonged on the finger of a Keogh woman as Mag had said. But she did turn it around, little points of light flashing off the diamonds. She handed it back to Mag and hugged her.
“Thank you. Loss is always hard. I lost my father when I was still a small girl. Mother never remarried, and it was difficult. I can still hear his voice, see his smile, remember his stories. I miss him every day of my life, so I know how you feel.”
After putting the ring back in the curio cabinet, Mag sniffled a little, and the two women, arms around each other, went into the kitchen. They did not see Myles Keogh standing at the door, quietly watching.
Chapter 10
Leighlinbridge did enjoy a lot of rain if rain was what one preferred. The one thing Ireland virtually never saw was thunder and lightning. A lot of days were drizzly, so people tended to make spontaneous use of those times with sun or mostly sun. Those were the moments to organize picnics or buffets on the lawn. Those were the periods to go fishing or riding or just taking in the sights.
Cresta deemed the weather in Ireland to be dreamy and practically ethereal. In Virginia, she was used to hot weather in summer and snow storms in winter, although not as much snow as New England saw. In Ireland, the weather was generally mild and didn’t vary that much from winter to summer. She often found herself outside just watching the mists on the fields, the soft pastels of colors in the meadows, and the amazing panoramas of breathtaking countryside.
She also loved animals. The Keoghs had a lot of land, and naturally, they had a lot of horses. Myles said he would teach her to ride, and she said that would probably not happen. She was more comfortable with smaller animals such as the sheep, the cats and dogs, the rabbits and chickens. In fact, she had one favorite fat hen she named Clara. Clara was just a plain chicken in the hennery but had a funny little spray of white feathers on her chest. Every time Cresta asked if she could take some food out to the henhouse, Clara seemed to come to her first and beg for ground corn. It was tempting to think of building a henhouse in Virginia, but for that, Cresta would have to be around home more often than she now was. Her work occupied a great deal of her time.
The rainy afternoons or evenings were her favorite times because it was then Tom and Alice would build up a fire in the “flop” room, pull up chairs with Mag, Ell, and Fan, and talk with Myles. They were very proud of their young relative. He sent them letters constantly, filled with his exploits, news of his friends, accounts of military action, and the progression of his career. He not only entered the American Union Army as a Captain; he’d won a brevet to Major for his bravery at Gettysburg. His promotion to brevet Lieutenant Colonel came at the end of the war. What a grand thing. Now he might be fighting Indians in the American