Chapter Five
Lassi’s lunch sat like a stone in the bottom of her tummy. Certain her internal organs were unable to process food since they were clenched so hard, she let out a growl of annoyance and placed the plate of fish and chips remains on the floor. She didn’t want a bunch of intruders in this pigsty of a house. Well, Father Ward isn’t an intruder since he’s helping me so much. Any fellow who wants to help me peel wallpaper from the wall is all right by me. She glanced at the bucket holding yesterday’s cellulose paste and water mixture. Her gaze drifted to the end-table pushed next to the wall. He can stand on the table and I’ll hand him things while eying his delicious back and butt. She rolled her eyes at herself. I’ve got to get out of here and back to Dublin, where I belong.
The hum of conversation at the door floated into the front room. She sighed. Go away. I’ve got a cottage to clear and a map to a mysterious location to see to. Her fingers bunched the bedspread, which had been keeping her warmish, into knots. At least I don’t have to make tea for all these feckers, on account of no electricity. That’s a plus.
She congratulated herself on finding something good out of the day.
Ailis let out a high-pitched girly-girl laugh, like she was being courted for the starring role in a movie.
Lassi sidled in view of the door and glanced at Ailis’s disheveled, worn attire. Ailis is one of those women for whom rain and a lack of electricity and water for a shower simply make her look like one of those glamorously disheveled women in distress in films.
Father Ward shuffled into the room, his shoulders hanging. “I tried to shoo her along. She and Liam are playing ‘let’s pretend we’re not acting out of accordance with the good Lord’s Ten Commandments.’”
“Let me guess. No coveting thy neighbor’s wife?”
“Right.” He settled next to her on the sofa.
The heat pouring from his body could warm the entire house.
Her eyebrows fell together as she basked in his warmth. “You put out a lot of heat, Father.”
“I’m sorry.” He leaned forward as if to rise.
She placed her hand on his forearm. Jesus, his muscles are intense. It’s like touching granite.
He jerked slightly.
“You’re keeping me warm, Father. There’s no commandment against warming thy neighbor is there?”
He relaxed, leaning back against the sofa. “No, I guess there isn’t.”
Ailis sashayed in the room. Her gaze volleyed between Lassi and Father Ward. She fit herself in the small space between them, wiggling her rump back and forth to get comfortable. She stretched out her arm behind the priest, making sure it pressed against his back. “So, Father Ward.”
Lassi eyed Ailis’s plump arm, wanting to rip it from its socket. She’d been enjoying Father Ward until this numpty bitch took space between them, acting like she owned him.
He arched away. “Where’s Liam?”
Ailis scooted closer to him. “He had to head for the jacks.”
“Who still calls it that? In Dublin, it’s a fecking toilet,” Lassi said with a snarl. “I thought he was leaving.”
“No. He insisted on making plans to get together later.” Ailis puckered her ruby red lips. “But I told him I had to talk to Father Ward.” She turned away from Lassi and focused on Father Ward. “We’re the ones who need to make plans for this house, right?” Her gaze flitted around the room. “You’re got a ton of work to do, Lassi, before we can even list the place.”
“Yes, so you should be getting on so I can get to it.” Lassi’s gut roiled in a steady simmer.
The distant rumble of the toilet flushing, followed by water gushing, burbled through the antique plumbing. A few seconds later, Liam tottered down the hall. He entered the front room, still zipping his trousers, looked at Ailis with her arm behind Father Ward, and glared. He perched on the arm of the sofa nearest Lassi.
To say she felt crowded was a gross misrepresentation of the word. “We’ve got other chairs, everyone. We don’t all need to be sitting in a row like sausages in a tin.” She swept her arm toward the two easy chairs across from her. She squinted. They were covered in cat hair. She didn’t remember them being hairy. Maybe the live Mr. Meow has had his way with them.
No one moved. Finally, Lassi lurched to her feet. She perched on the edge of the cat-hair covered chair, using the bedspread as a shield.
Her three guests blinked and stared at her.
“Roberta was an odd duck,” Ailis said. She pressed closer into Father Ward.
He squirmed, wriggling into the arm rest.
Liam eyed the sofa and settled into the seat left warm by Lassi. He lifted his arm and placed it behind Ailis.
She stiffened. She rolled her shoulders as if ridding them of the sensation of Liam’s touch—either that, or preparing for a fight.
“As I was saying...odd. According to my mum and grand-mum, the Finn women never leave Ballynagaul. Isn’t it strange how all the Finn women never leave Bally?” She fixed her blue-button eyes on Lassi.
Father Ward coughed. He tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his mouth.
“I don’t know. Is it?” Lassi shrugged. “Besides I managed to escape.”
“You were never here to being with,” Ailis said. “The ones that were born here grew deep roots.”
Lassi shivered. The thought of growing roots in Ballynagaul unnerved her. She eyed the cloth in Father Ward’s strong hands. It looked to be made of well-cared for, antique linen, yellowed with age. With scalloped edges, it appeared more feminine than masculine. An elegant RB had been stitched in the corner. RB? Who’s RB?
Father Ward’s eyes met hers. He glanced at his kerchief, quickly folded it, and tucked it away inside his jacket.
“Why, yes, it’s odd. Bally is nothing to get excited about. What girl in her right mind would never want to leave? Unless...” Ailis slid a mischievous gaze in Father Ward’s direction. “If you’d lived here through the centuries, you might not want to leave.” She batted her mascara covered eyelashes.
Lassi’s brow furrowed. “What are you going on about?”
Father Ward tugged at the white slash in his collar. “Seems unlikely that anyone could live for centuries, doesn’t it?”
Liam placed his hand on her thigh. “Now there’s an odd notion. How could Father Ward live here through the centuries? He’s a man, like I am.”
Ailis’s head snapped toward Liam. “Oh, there’s no comparison, I assure you.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Right. He’s a priest. He and I don’t share the same beliefs. He’s bound to the Lord’s word.”
“While you’re bound to your wife,” Ailis snapped.
The same melancholy Lassi had seen before darkened Father Ward’s expression.
She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. Certain her eyes flashed fire, Lassi said, “You’ve skewed your facts, Ailis. My mum and grand-mum had the good sense to escape bloody Bally. What about you? Have you ever left this fecking village?”
“I...” Ailis spluttered. She lifted her arm from behind Father Ward and placed it in her lap. “Maybe...”
“Which means no. You either did or you didn’t. You can practice by leaving my house. I need to get to work.” Lassi pointed toward the door. “Unless you want to share some superstitious nonsense about Father Ward being a vampire or some such. Or, maybe you’re saying Father Ward is a Finn woman in drag and he’s the one you’re talking about. You’re confusing the life out of me.”
A smile quirked the edges of Father Ward’s fine face.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Liam offered.
“I’ve got my own damn car,” Ailis said.
“I’ll follow you then.” He licked his lips.
Ailis studied him for a moment. Then, as if a decision had been made, she licked her lips, too.
They both rose suddenly as if hypnotized by one another.
Lassi scrutinized their odd behavior. Then, she gestured toward her plate of half-eaten fish and chips. “Thanks for the food, Liam, but it won’t be necessary to keep feeding me.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, his gaze locked with Ailis’s.
“We can chat about the house tomorrow, Father,” Ailis said, her eyes fixed on Liam.
“Fine,” Father Ward said, frowning as if he was as bewildered as Lassi.
Lassi brushed her hands toward them, as if shooing them away. “Go on with you both and let me peel wallpaper.”
They both stumbled away.
Lassi had no doubt they’d barely make it off the property before screwing in one of their cars.
When the front door slammed, she looked at Father Ward. “Well...” Her gaze lifted out the window as Liam and Ailis powered away in their vehicles.
“Well...” he said. He fidgeted on the sofa.
She squirmed in her chair, glad for the bedspread between her and the cat hair.
“I wonder when the electricity will return,” Father Ward said.
Oh, I think there’s plenty to be had, crackling between us.
“Right,” Lassi said. “I wonder.” Her mind went blank. She searched for something, anything, to say. “We could start with the wallpaper.”
“Right.” He let out a sigh. “Good plan.”
“I should toss my food scraps outside.” She eyed the remains of her fish and chips spread on the white platter she’d placed on the floor. “There’s a cat alive who needs nourishment. Roberta left a survivor.”
“Right,” Father Ward said. He rose to standing.
She got to her feet, letting the blanket pool on the hair-covered chair. “I’ll put it out the kitchen door.”
“Good plan,” he said again.
“Okay, then.” She hesitated feeling live wires of desire stretch tight between them.
“All right.” He studied her.
“Off I go.”
He nodded.
She barely made it down the length of the hall when another knock sounded on the door. “Good Christ, now what? This bloody cottage is like Paddington Railway station.”
“I’ll get it,” Father Ward offered.
“Tell them to feck off,” Lassi said. She stepped into the kitchen, opened the back door, and tossed the scraps onto the dirt.
The angry tabby she’d fed cheese eyed her from underneath a nearby scraggly bush. “Look. Cold cod and chips. Eat it or not, but it’s here.” She backed into the house, not wanting the cat to rocket from the bushes and claw out her eyes.
Closing the door behind her, she recognized the voice of Penny coming from the front of the cottage. She set the plate on the counter to wash later and headed out of the kitchen.
Penny said, “Can you tell me where Liam is, Father? I need him at the pub.”
Lassi yelled, “He just left.”
She hurried toward the front door where Penny and Father Ward stood. She blinked at Penny’s attire.
She had on a raincoat, of course, as well as a yellow vinyl rain hat, but underneath she wore a classic, navy-striped butcher’s apron. Chain mail gloves adorned her hands. Penny glanced down. “Oh, you’re wondering what these are for?” She lifted her hands.
“A bit, yes.”
“I’ve been butchering today. These keep me from chopping my fingers to pieces.” Penny wiggled her metal covered fingers. “That’s why I’m looking for Liam. So, he was here, you say?” Her face fell in on itself in a frown.
Lassi’s hands landed on her hips. “My day hasn’t even started and I’ve already had Liam, Ailis, and Father Ward descend on me like locusts.”
Father Ward’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead.
Her cheeks reddened. “Well, not you, Father Ward. You’re no locust. You’ve very welcome.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
Lassi turned back to Penny. “Liam and Ailis left a few minutes ago.”
“I see.” She lifted her arm and wiped the rain dripping from the stoop overhang from her face. A bloody bit of gristle fell from her glove.
Lassi’s gaze fell to the gory bit, as did Penny’s and Father Ward’s.
Penny began to stoop to retrieve it, but Lassi stopped her. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a cat out back that would appreciate the protein.”
Penny nodded. “So, did they leave together?”
Her voice sounded cool and calm, as if asking about the weather.
Unsure where this conversation was headed, Lassi interjected, “I got the impression they both left at the same time but I can’t be certain of anything else.”
“I’d best be getting on, then. Maybe I’ll find him along the way.” Penny turned to leave. She lifted her hand behind you. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”
“All right.” Perspiration broke out on Lassi’s forehead despite the chill. She closed the door, turned, and leaned against it. “Glory be. You don’t think she’ll come upon them...” Her eyes lifted toward Father Ward. “You know...coveting others in the back seat of a car?”
“I don’t know.”
“I feel as if I’m in the middle of a B-rated soap opera. I prefer the anonymity of Dublin, to tell the truth. You keep to yourself, mind your business, and no one’s the wiser as to your whereabouts.” She pushed away from the wall. “I don’t like to be in the middle of people’s garbage.”
He nodded, staring at her, like the hungry cat under the bushes out back.
She stood inches from him.
Heat radiated from his belly. His chest rose and fell. His eyes—green pools of light and mystery, reminding her of seaside frolics in the Connemara—bore into her. He reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingertips.
She longed to fall into his caress, but she stood as stiff as a standing stone.
His hand came away. An eyelash rested at the tip of his finger. “I didn’t want it to get into your eye,” he said.
“Right. Those are a bitch to fish out. And you stand there all blinking and tearing,” she said, letting her eyelids flutter. “You can keep it for good luck, if you like.”
He stared at the eyelash, like it held the secrets of the universe. Then, his kissable lips puckered and he blew it away. “Let’s let the winds decide on our luck, shall we?”
Another shiver tickled her spine. This one left her breathless.
“I...” he began. “I’d best be getting back.”
Lassi frowned, more disappointed than she had a right to be. “I thought you were going to help me with the wallpaper.” A pout loomed on her lips which she quickly quashed. “Never mind, I can do it myself.”
“I’m sorry, but I remembered something on my calendar.”
“A baptism, no doubt.” She lifted her head to meet his scorching gaze.
“No doubt,” he said, boring holes through her soul with his eyes. “I’ll check back later.”
“Right. You do that.” She stared at the floor.
His fingers landed under her chin and tipped her head up.
Is he going to kiss me? Her heart galloped like the wild Chincoteague ponies she’d once seen on a visit to the States.
Instead, he chucked her chin, as if she were a child. Then, he headed for the door. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“I hope so,” she said.
The touch made her ache inside, revealing far more longing and desire than she knew existed.
And that, she told herself, watching him stride along the pathway, away from her, is just plain wrong.
Perhaps I should do something useful and pursue my plan to look for Maggie Strongbow’s grave—once the weather breaks. She studied the gloomy clouds. Or, maybe I’ll have to forge outside regardless of the wind and rain.