Come
Across the Big Pond
Part Two…
Tar ar an tAigéan
Disclaimer. I don’t own the characters that are found in the
Murder She Wrote TV series, or in the book form. They are the property of
someone else. I * do * own the characters that I created. The character
of Dr. Tipper Henderson was created by Anne, and is used with her permission.
To read more about the adventures of Tipper, Google “Murder She Wrote” and go
to the “Definitive Guide to Murder She Wrote.”
This story (Tabhairt Isteach Do ) is several stories within one,
starting with Picture Perfect Murder. It was broken up into chapters and placed
on Fanfiction.net as such to make it easier to read. I hope to have several
more written covering the extraordinary summer of Frank Fletcher Jr. While this
one concludes the Big Pond story, it is another chapter in the events that will
unfold over time.
Author’s note & warning… Thanks to Anne for being my Beta on
this series. This story has a warning of 13+ due to language, beliefs and
customs that may offend some people’s sensibilities. Also, while this story is
set in the MSW universe not every thing will be solved by Jessica.
If you have traversed this far, please sign a review so that I
know you have read it! Don’t be shy!!
Kats
© June 09 2006. finished June 29th2006
Seth
woke to the sound of birds chirping outside his window and a pleasant feeling
of bliss radiating through his body. For a moment he lay very still, savoring
the feeling. He had thought, with the amount of dancing he had done the night
before and all of the food he had eaten, that he would be either ill or so
stiff that he wouldn’t be able to move for a week. He felt glorious. Opening
one eye Seth focused on the clock that sat on his night stand. He hadn’t set
the alarm. Jessica had told him to sleep himself out the night before, and to
continue with what he had planned. George had an idea to catch who was
responsible and it was important that everyone did everything they had planned
to do before the kidnapping to catch the culprit unaware. This morning Seth was
to meet with Gram and one of the camera men and she was going to show him some
of the herbs that they had used in healing people. Willie had felt it was
important that some record be made of what was being done. Book learning was
fine, but the hands-on experience was something that couldn’t be duplicated.
Younger doctors were too deep into the pills. He had seen first hand how the
paste that Willie had made was helping Anthony.
The
clock face finally came into focus. 8 am. Most everyone would be up and he
could smell the heavenly scent of fresh baked bread. Taking a breath he rolled over
and tossed the covers back as he sat up. His eyebrows went up. Not even a twinge.
Willie had made tea for Seth and Jessica before the wedding. He had informed
them to drink it at bed time, and that he would have a sound sleep. Seth had.
The pain that he would normally have in the waking hours was gone. Putting his
robe around his shoulders he gathered his shave kit and towel and headed to the
shower. Grinning at finding an open door he stepped into the small room and
latched the lock. He knew from years with his wife and children how to be very
quick in the shower, and how to not yell when the cold water hit. He was in,
showered and shaved in three minutes and in another two, dressed and down the
steps into the kitchen. He saw Rosemary and Emma washing the dishes while
Mither stirred the porridge on the stove. Ian and Frank were at the table with
the girls and Sara. Seth knew that Grady and Donna were still in bed. They had
had a long trip and weren’t used to the time change yet.
“Good
morning… Mither that bread smells heavenly…” he said eyeing the cooling loaves
of bread.
She
slapped his hand away from the bread knife drawer. “Na, tis for the soup for
mid-day meal. I know you’re away to speak with Gram soon, so here ye go - this porridge
will keep ye full til then…” she said pushing the bowl of porridge that she had
just scooped out into his hands. “The cream is on the counter by the spoons.” She
pointed over to the other side.
Seth
looked down at his porridge. “I have to be an adult about this in front of
the children,” he thought, “but fresh toast made with that bread with
clotted cream would be heavenly…and I don‘t even know what porridge is except
something that they sing about in nursery rhymes being nine days old.” Seth
pulled up a chair after putting some milk on his porridge and dipping his spoon
into the gooey mass lifted it halfway to his lips. “It smells just like
oatmeal…” Pausing, he regarded the bowl. He hated oatmeal. With a passion.
He made it a point to have all of his patents eat oatmeal at least four times
in a week because it was reputed to lower cholesterol and he would have fewer
complaints from his patients regarding constipation, but as a rule he had vowed
never to eat that wall paper paste again if his life depended on it.
Frank
wore a bit of a smirk on his face. “Aunt Jessica told Mither that you love
oatmeal - that’s the same as their porridge - and that you eat it every day at
home…”
“Ay,
an’ I can have it for you every day here as well. No wonder ye are such a fair
and fit man for your age,” said Mither with a wink putting the pot on the back
of the stove with a lid to keep it hot.
“Yes, Jess, I think it’s time that we ran that colonoscopy you
have been putting off … I am in hell, woman! Oatmeal every day? The airplane’s
rest rooms can’t handle that sort of workout for fifteen hours, woman! Let
alone there are only three restrooms here and over twenty-four people with two
of them pregnant, eight of them elderly, and a fair number of them kids who
have to have multiple trips in there so they won’t have accidents… When I get
my hands on you …” Seth closed his eyes envisioning the tests that he could dangle
over Jessica’s head for doing this to him. His belly rumbled. He sighed
and opened his eyes. Swallowing, he guided the spoon to his mouth and knew it
wasn’t going to get any better if he let it linger on his taste buds. It clung
to the back of his throat as he swallowed again for the third time. He sighed
again and took a sip of milk. Ian eyed him sympathetically. Looking both ways
to be sure his sisters weren’t paying attention he shoved the sugar bowl over
to Seth.
“It
helps. I love it as much as ye do, Dr. Seth,” he said under his breath.
Seth
looked at Ian. While he was small for his age, he was also underweight. It was
with a pang that Seth realized that perhaps the porridge was all that Ian and
his family could afford to eat, and while Seth detested the stuff for different
reasons, Ian probably hated it because it was the same each day. He wondered
how different Ian’s life would have been had they stayed together as a family,
here in the village. The next thought was that knowing the other side, Ian’s
mother wouldn’t have survived to adulthood. It was a fair guess that by killing
off all of the youngsters or a good many of them, Willie’s family would have
died out long ago if some of them hadn’t gone into hiding.
“Maybe
we can find other things we might like too, later,” he said with a wink to the
boy. Ian scooped several spoonfuls of sugar onto the porridge. Seth stirred it
in and took another spoonful. The sweetness took away the gooey taste. It was
manageable. He winked at Ian and took another bite. Seth felt Mither’s watchful
gaze on him as he worked his way down to the bottom of the bowl. Fishing for
the last bit, he asked Ian, “Lad, have
you ever had grits?”
Ian
shook his head. “Wha’s in them?” he asked, curious.
“Well,
grits are bleached corn meal that’s been boiled. You can make the northern
variety called ‘mush’ with the unbleached corn, and the same ground grain is
used to make corn bread.”
“Really?
Oh, I love the corn bread we get at school, there never is enough of it
sometimes … right, Pattie?” His sister nodded, smiling.
“Maybe
for tomorrow’s breakfast I can make up some good old-fashioned southern grits
for breakfast … and make corn bread with the rest of the meal. We smother it in
a good chicken stock gravy and it is heaven.” He looked at Ian and winked.
Pattie
looked at Seth. “Dr. Seth, does Aunt Jessica like grits?” she asked, curious.
He
grinned “ Why, yes she does. Even more than I love oatmeal…” “Oh yes,
Jessica Beatrice MacGill Fletcher, you will love tomorrow’s breakfast and all
that follows!!”
Seth
heard the rattle of the pot’s lid and knew Mither was going to come around with
another scoop for the kids. Standing up, Seth carried his bowl to the sink and
dipped it in the dishwater to wash it. He saw that Rosemary seemed distracted
by something outside, and looking out, he saw a short bandy legged man that had
his hair slicked back and was wearing a clean shirt. He had to blink several
times before he realized that the man was Toot, and that he was actually clean
shaven and by the looks of it, had taken a bath as well as washed his clothes.
Seth saw Toot duck behind a tree to hide when he was seen at the window. Glancing
at Rosemary he realized she had a bit of a blush on her cheek.
“There
is a new priest arriving later this morning, if any of ye wish to meet him,”
Mither said, taking her apron off and hanging it on the hook. “There is still
more porridge left for the sleepyheads or if any of you lot wish to have more.
I’m off to the parish, then the market. Flynn’s off fishing for dinner, and
Faraday is off with young Dr. Henderson.”
“Is
there anything we can do to help with lunch, Mither?” asked Ian.
She
paused, then nodded. “I’ve about thirty pounds of potatoes that need peeling
and then to be soaked in cold water till I get back. Would ye like to help that
much?”
Ian
nodded. “Na doing any relay races today. Peeling would be fine… can do that
while the girls take their naps.”
Seth
closed the door behind him as he walked out of the house with the young camera
man beside him. Gram was already up sweeping the cobblestone pathway to her
house. She looked up at Seth and waved. It took a moment to get both of them
wired for sound. For a while Seth felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights
of a car. Gram pressed tea on him and after a few sips he relaxed.
“I
noticed that Willie, and you, do a lot of healing with different blends of tea.
How do you know what should go into each different tea?” he asked, curiously
looking at the remains of the tea leaves.
“Na
all cures can be made with tea, or plants. Sometimes cures come from animals,
or insects, or even different minerals of the earth. To heal, you have to know
what is wrong. Na a lot of doctors can do that. They may think they have the
source of the problem. Sometimes the cures are almost the same. Skin, hair,
nails, eyes, they all tell. Someone said, ‘the eyes are windows of the soul,’
if you believe in that. What you need to know is when you look at a person and
see them, even if you know them, see them for the first time. Look to see if
their hair is good, or breaking, as well as the nails and the beds of the
nails.”
Gran
smoothed her skirt and for a moment looked shyly at the camera as it clicked
on. Taking a breath she began by showing Seth the house, and the surgery, and
then the herbs that she had drying. Some of the herbs Seth knew, and a few he
raised his eyebrows at when she waggled them in the direction of the town.
There were things to cure, things to help. Herbs to sooth and to hasten. What
impressed Seth the most was her decision of dosage. She knew how much of the
medication was found in each plant, and how many seeds or petals or leaves, or
how much root was needed to cure, and how much would kill.
They
walked around the outside garden to the front where Seth happened to notice the
sheet hanging on the tree. It took a full minute for Seth to realize what it
was. Gran followed his gaze and gave it a nod.
“Aye,
triplets for sure before St. Paddy’s Day,” she said a bit proudly.
Seth
shot her a glance. “Triplets?? ... Do they know?”
She
gave the men a grin and chuckled to herself. Seth wasn’t sure if she was
pulling his leg, or if she was serious. She went to the edge of the house and
picked up her walking stick, and tossed it to Seth. “Come on lad. Tis been a
while since I went out and about and I have a feeling there will be a need for
some healing today.”
Seth
followed her out of her yard and down the path that lead up into the meadow. A
few times he would stop and just take in the view, then Gram would tell him to
hurry along. Seth looked at the cameraman, puffing for air. Gram wasn’t out of
breath at all. “And she is 97...“ he
gasped to the cameraman.
Gram
was having a great time making up wild cures with some of the things she would
point out - telling them that if they had a combination of some herbs and
flowers parts of the body would swell up, go plaid and fall off. The camera man was taking all of it in and
when she said the bit about going plaid and falling off he gasped, “Really?”
Gram
looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and said, “Absolutely.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Let
him go, lass,” said Willie’s voice behind Tipper. “They have to take him now.”
“I have to keep pressure on the wound, you know that…” she mumbled, holding on
to Faraday’s body tightly.
“The
lads here will do that. Let them… it’s alright, lass.” Gently Willie managed to
release Tipper’s hold on Faraday and helped her to her feet.
Willie
felt Tipper shiver. “Are ye hurt lass?” he asked her, guiding her out of that
room into the next.
Tipper
shook her head. “No... It’s my fault he is dead…”
“Oh,
no, lass, no. Flynn did it, an’ he did the stuff before,” said Willie, trying
to comfort her.
“He
knew, though. He was involved. How could I have been so stupid to fall for
him?” she asked Willie as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, and
instead smeared Faraday’s blood on her face. She looked at her hands and saw
the blood on them. Her body began to shake harder. “Oh Faraday…” she said
softly.
Tipper
heard footsteps approach. There was a murmur, then a cup was pressed to her
lips. She gagged at the bite of the drink and looked at Willie, who encouraged
her to take a few sips before he put it aside. “I saw him go. He hugged his
sister and then looked back at me before they went through the door… He said he
loved me…How could he have been helping Flynn and still love me?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jessica
and George watched as the ambulance and the car that contained Tipper, Taylor
and Willie pulled away from the house. The whiskey that Willie had given to
Tipper had stopped her shaking like a leaf and calmed her somewhat.
There
were a few officers still inside. Others had taken Flynn away earlier. The
officers that had stayed were young, and a few looked about the house with
trepidation. She saw one tall thin officer look about the great hall where the
grand staircase was, and up the steps to the stained glass window. She could see his large adam’s apple bob in
his throat as he swallowed.
“Is
something wrong, Officer O‘Neil?” she asked the young man gently.
“Beggin’
your pardon, Mrs. Fletcher… It’s just this place – it has always been said it’s
haunted, cursed and blessed at the same time,“ he said, shifting his hat in his
hand.
“That’s
a rather curious combination, wouldn’t you say?” she said, following his gaze
up the steps to the stained glass window. Far enough away one could take in the
entire window. It was entwined with ivy and clover with birds fluttering over
it. In the center of the window was a large stone with a sword pierced through
it, and the golden path from it led to a rainbow that led to a pair of birds in
a nest of the ivy; in the nest were three eggs. Taking a step closer to look at
it, Jessica was startled to see something else as the sunlight broke through
the window. She stopped walking and gasped as the view on the window changed.
She could see faces in the window, people gathered around the stone with the
sword and one person kneeling before it, pulling the sword out of the stone.
Blood ran from the stone. Just as fast as the image was there, it disappeared
when the sun moved behind a cloud.
“Ye
saw it too?” the young officer said, looking at Jessica.
She
nodded. “But it’s not there any more…”
“Ye
are na going mad Mrs. Fletcher. It’s there. An’ they say there are other images
that ye can see in different places where ye stand during different days. They
explain it as polarized painting of the stained glass, though it had to be done
in such a planned way when the glass was being made that only the person doing
it would know. Some say they were what you call wizards tha’ made this place.
Others say it was the work of the wee folk who made it a home when one of their
own married a mortal lass. He couldn’t bring her to his people lest he would
lose her, so he brought his magic and wealth here for his family to have. It is
said that one day, the true heir will walk again in these halls, and there will
be a gathering of all the departed, in a way that the treasure that was long
hidden from the greedy folk will be brought forth, and the curse will be
broken. All who were in the family by marriage or blood will have the luck of
the Irish wee folk with them, and all who defied the family will lose their
dearest blood to the curse. Two noble families once lived in this house, Mrs.
Fletcher. One stayed; the other left with the curse…”
Jessica
regarded the young officer. “Oh, I don’t know, it depends on what you believe
is the real curse,” she said softly. Jessica turned and looked at the window as
the sun came out from behind the clouds. The people’s faces were there -
standing around the man, or more precisely standing to one side, and it looked
like the sword was above the stone, then with a shift, the sword went into the
stone and the image disappeared all together. She looked back, and saw the
young officer had been distracted by something else.
“What
is it, Officer O’Neil?” she asked, curious.
He
held up his hand. “A banshee wailing…” he said softly.
Jessica
listened. She did hear something. “That’s
not a banshee, Officer... follow me!” Jessica went up the steps of the grand
staircase, following the sound. It was a low-pitched moan that echoed through
the air registers.
Entering
into a room that had a closed door, the noise stopped. Jessica looked around
the room. It was a bedroom that had a small mattress on the floor and scattered
toys in a corner, where there was a lump of a dirty blanket. Officer O’Neil had
his hand on his gun, but Jessica shook her head and closed the door and had him
stand in front of it. The lump of the blanket moved.
“It’s alright now, you’re safe. You can come out…” Jessica said, walking
forward.
The
blanket moved again, this time springing upward as a filthy being in rags
charged at Jessica with the intent of knocking her over to get past her and out
the door. Officer O’Neil stepped forward and managed to scoop up the being as
it changed its path for the door.
George
heard the wild shriek down below and raced up the stairs. He didn’t know what
was behind the door, but he could hear Jessica’s voice and opened it with the
intention of rescuing her. What he faced instead was a three foot tall wall of
wiggly, snarling monster that he managed to lift up with both hands and hang
upside down to avoid getting teeth sunk into his arms and in the process, was
kicked a few times in the face. Officer O’Neil was nursing a bloody arm, and
limped over to George with his hand cuffs out.
Jessica
hurried over and waved the cuffs away. “Close
the door, and stand in front of it. George, please put her down.”
“Her?
This hellion is a her?” gasped George.
“Put
her down, George.”
“But…
But - Jessica!”
“George.”
He
carefully turned the child right side up and then placed her on her feet
Jessica took the child’s hands in hers, and bending over to face the child she
said sternly, “Now young lady, there will be no more nonsense from you. No one
will hurt you, we’re here to help you. The first order of the day is to get you
a proper bath, and then some food. There will be no more biting or trying to
run away. Come along now.” She straightened up and faced Officer O’Neil.
“Officer O’Neil, where is the nearest bath, and would you be so kind as to run
some water in the tub for us, about fifteen inches, and Inspector Sutherland,
if you could find something suitable for this young lady to wear when her bath
is finished?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tipper
was quiet during the drive to the village. She felt as if there was a huge hole
in her heart that nothing could fill. All of the beautiful green of the land
was now a flat gray. She could hear the sound of people singing as they went
past the church, and up the lane. It sounded rather like angels singing.
The
officer parked the car and opened the door for them. Tipper sat a moment, but then
allowed
Willie
entered into the kitchen, where he saw Ian with his leg propped up on another
chair with a pillow under it peeling potatoes with Grady. “Where are all the
others?”
“Down
at the church welcoming the new priest,” said Ian. “Grandmum is about
somewhere. Frank and his mum went to look at the kittens in the back shed.
She’s na much for food today. They only left a minute ago.”
Nodding,
Willie went out the back door and hurried up the path to the shed. He could see
Frank helping Donna, keeping her steady as she walked, and that just as they
got to the side of the shed, they paused. Willie could see Frank listening to
something. Frank stepped forward to look through the window. Donna, being a bit
taller, was able to see down into the shed from the window. She pulled Frank
back and covered his mouth to prevent him from saying anything. As Willie ran
up the path and came to them, Donna’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish.
Frank had pulled away from her, gotten her a log to sit on, and guided her onto
it.
Willie entered the shed. The light from the window illuminated everything he
didn’t want to see as he strode across the wood floors where the feed sacks
were kept. Reaching down he grabbed Toot by the back of the neck and pulled him
backwards from Rosemary.
Outside
of the shed Frank heard a few indistinct words, and then they became louder. “Striapach
!Craiceann
a
bhualadh
le…”
He stood behind his mother and covered her ears.
Donna
looked back up at him and saw Frank wincing at what was being said. She reached
up and took his hands away from her ears and said softly to him, “Honey? I
don’t understand a word they are saying. Do you?”
She
saw Frank flinch. “Uh, yeah… Most of it is stuff Willie says when he smacks his
thumb with a hammer. That happened a lot when he was building the looms.
Sheriff Metzger says I’m not to repeat any of it. What were they doing, mom?
Why is Willie so upset?”
Donna
hesitated. She could feel color rise to her cheeks as she looked up at her son.
The
shouting ended with the sound of a slap. There was a silence, then something
was said before the door to the shed opened and Willie came out. He slammed the
door shut and stood looking down at the dirt. The imprint of a hand was bright
on his cheek. Willie couldn’t look at Frank or Donna for a moment, and when he
did, they saw the brush of tears in his eyes.
“We
have to get down to the house before the others come back. The kittens will
wait for another day.”
Frank
noticed that Willie was very tight-lipped on the way back down the path. He
escorted them to the kitchen where
“Where
is Tipper?” Frank asked with trepidation in his voice.
“She’s
upstairs, in bed. I gave her something to help her sleep,” said
“Who
would shoot Faraday?” asked Frank, curious.
“Flynn,”
said
“His
own father?” gasped Ian.
“Willie,
what is going on? What happened? Who hit you?”
“Rosemary
did.”
“Why?”
“Because
I caught Toot on the box banging her in the shed and let her know it wasn’t
proper
behavior for a woman her age.”
“Banging
on the box?” she asked, and saw his face redden.
“Yes,
like a brasser, an old flah-bag a - a common tart,” he said with great
difficulty. “I ask you now, what woman of reason would do that with the town
drunken Brell who’s known for sleeping with his goats, and that’s WITH
his goats?” He paced the room a few times and then looked out the window at the
people coming up the path to the bed and breakfast.
“I
don’t have the answer to that, husband. I know she isn’t responsible for
Faraday’s death.”
“That
has nothing to do with it!” he said darkly.
“Fine,
then I will leave it to you to tell Mither about Faraday, and Flynn,” she said,
getting up and walking briskly from the room out the side door, where she
avoided Mither and the others coming back into the house. Starting down the
path, she wanted to put as much distance between what she wanted to say, and
what was in her heart. She felt something, though, and had to stop. She stood
for a moment taking a breath under the tree that she and Willie had spoken
under before they had married. She couldn’t go any further. She sat on the same
spot and lowered her head. She could feel the tears coming down her cheeks. She
heard the crunch of gravel coming down the path and felt Willie sit beside her
before wrapping his arms about her body. She turned into his arms and her body
shook with sobs.
“I
can’t be strong any more, I can’t,” she said softly. “I don’t have the answer
for you, husband. I don’t know how to fix the hurt in your heart any more than
I can fix what is in mine. I’m sorry.”
Tilting
her head up with his fingertips, Willie gazed at
“The
church, to draw the windows… I’ve always used drawing to focus on when I
couldn’t deal with the world. I have for so very long I am afraid that I don’t
know how to cope any other way. I used to be very good with people, dealing
with problems … and it changed one day. Gabe came into my life and I … I
couldn’t fix me, though. Only you have been able to do that. And I know there
are people here who are in more pain than I am. I can’t take on any more pain.”
“I
know, wife,” Willie said softly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry
for putting you in the middle of something that wasn’t yours to worry about.”
“You
are my husband. She is my mother now, too, and would you be angry with me if I
said, it is her decision to make?”
He
regarded her. “She said as much. Aye, I was angry when I found them. Angry
enough tha’ if I had the sword I would have done him more harm than kicking his
back side as I did… Na because Frank an’ his Mum saw what was going on in the
shed, but I knew my da loved my mum more than his own soul. I just felt she was
dishonoring his memory or tha’ she was lowering herself to be in Toot’s
company. I‘ve lost her as my mother today…”
“Then
you will have to find her again. Husband, you can not ask her to make the
choice between your love and her comfort where she may find it.” She saw that
Willie was about to say something and she laid her fingertips over his lips.
“There has been enough pain today, husband…” She stood up and took his hand.
“Come on. We need to help Mither ease hers, and put ours aside for a while.”
Willie
stood and escorted her up to the bed and breakfast where they found Mither had
just taken the things from the market and was unpacking them in the cellar.
Willie went down and brought her up to the sitting room, and holding her hand
told her gently about Faraday, and how his life had been taken.
Mither’s
voice was low. “I heard the calling, afore ye came. The low moan of the ones
who take the souls of the gentle away. Knew there would be harm coming, but
didn’t know for whom. Ye bring death, Willie, with ye. Ye bring death.”
Mither
shook her head. “Oh no… She’s just away at University…She…is just away…”
In
the kitchen Frank, Ian, Grady and Donna were helping the boys peel the
potatoes. Rosemary was by the sink washing the greens when she heard a scream
come from the sitting room, one that was much like a wounded animal’s. She
turned, startled at the scream, and the wail that followed.
Frank
saw her confused expression. “Faraday is dead,” he said softly.
“Child,
don’t say such things!” said Rosemary sharply. She looked at Donna, who wore
such a look of sadness that she hadn’t noticed before. She put aside her apron
and hurried up to the room where she stepped in and saw Willie holding Mither
as she sobbed.
“The
family?” gasped Rosemary.
“Mither
is the hidden sister to Willie’s father. She’s lost both her children today. I
could not bear to learn of any more partings of the heart… You need to know,
Flynn shot him …”
She
was interrupted by a terrified scream that echoed through the walls and
registers of the bed and breakfast.
“Go
daughter, I will help my son.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Faraday… please, don’t give up… Please… don’t give up…” she
said, holding him closer as Willie bunched a handkerchief under her hand to
help with the pressure. He looked up at her and made a small shake of his head.
“Faraday… Would you like to hang your wash next to mine?” asked
Tipper urgently.
She saw him focus on her. “Aye…“
Tipper found her world swirled around her. She looked up from
his body and saw the stained glass window. She found herself holding the sword
by the hilt, and stabbing it downward until it struck the earth. Blood bubbled
from the tip of the sword and she saw that it was Faraday she had stabbed as
his eyes opened, looking at her. But it wasn’t Faraday that lay beneath the
sword, it was a younger man with dark eyes who laughed as she fell backwards
onto the steps away from the white marble post.
The younger man stood up, the sword still in his chest.
“Vengeance comes...”
Tipper
sat up in bed and screamed, struggling against the arms that held her. Pain
filled her eyes as the sunlight came unbridled through the window. She heard
voices, and turned her head away from the bitter liquid that was pressed to her
lips. “NO,” she said, pushing it away.
“Let
me try,” she heard. She knew that voice, from a darkness. The hands that held
her went away. The owner of the voice picked up her hand and held it, tracing
his thumb across the back of it.
“Angela…
it’s ok… you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, but it will help the
nightmares stop and you can sleep then… or we can talk about it…”
The
bright lights went away as the shade was pulled down. Tipper managed to open
her eyes and saw Frank sitting on her bedside. Donna was sitting on another
bed, Grady standing beside her.
“It’s
my fault Faraday is dead,” she said, her voice empty of emotion. Willie had
told her no. Flynn had pulled the trigger and killed him.
Frank
looked at her. “I know. If you had known he was going to die, you wouldn’t have
led him to where Flynn was. But you had no way of knowing what was going to
happen. Gabe says the actions of others are free will… I know he loved you too,
and that it hurts inside when you think about him. It’s okay to feel that hurt,
and to cry for as long as it takes, and you don‘t need stuff to make the hurt
go away if you know that it will. You aren’t alone Angela, I‘m here…” he said,
brushing her cheek with his fingertip gently.
Donna
watched as Frank sat on Tipper’s bed and spoke softly to her. The affection
that Frank held for her was visible in his features and in his actions.
“Maybe
you had this dream because there is something you need to remember?” he asked
her as he helped her lay back down on the bed and smoothed her hair from her
face.
He
saw her eyes grow heavy as she murmured, “Maybe …”
Frank
bent over and kissed her cheek softly as he tucked her in. By the rise and fall
of her chest they knew she was sleeping. “I love you, Angela,” he murmured
softly to her.
Donna
looked at Grady as he put an arm around Frank’s shoulder. “Come on, Frank, let’s
let Tipper get some rest while we talk outside.”
Frank
looked at his dad then back at Tipper as she slept. He was reluctant to leave
her, but he knew she wasn’t alone with Willie being there in the house. If
anything would happen, if she would wake up again, they would hear it
downstairs. He followed his father outside and down the path away to where
there was a bench under a grove of trees. For a bit, they just sat there in
silence.
“What
did you want to talk about?” Frank asked curiously as he watched Seth walking
along the back road with Gram. Something odd had happened at
When
Frank didn’t get an answer right away he looked back at his father and saw he
was struggling with something. “Dad?”
Grady
took a breath, Donna’s words ringing in his ears. She had pulled him back when
Frank ran up the steps to the sound of Tipper’s screams. “You have to have a
talk with him, Grady, before he starts asking questions. He knows Rosemary and
Toot were in a … a moment best not described. He needs to have a talk about things.”
“Me??
But couldn‘t …Seth, or Willie … I mean, they’re doctors and they could do a
much better job at explaining, um, if he had questions … about - about things…”
“You’re
his father.”
Grady
let the breath out slowly and swallowed. “Your mother thought it would be a
good idea if I had a talk with you about things.”
“What
things?”
Grady
looked at his son’s innocent upturned face. He took another breath. “Well, we
have noticed that in the time that we left you in Aunt Jessica’s care, you’ve
changed some. You’re growing up a lot, faster than we expected,” he began. “And
your mother felt it was time that we had a discussion about your growing up.”
Frank
watched his father shift on the bench and was aware that his dad was
uncomfortable about something. He reached over and took his dad’s hand.
“You
know, you can talk to me about anything you need to, dad,” he said
reassuringly.
Sighing,
Grady regarded his son. “I know. The thing is, we’ve noticed that you’re
growing up, and your mother feels it’s time we discuss with you the things that
happen when you do.”
Frank
blinked. It wasn’t good when his dad repeated himself. He didn’t have a clue as
to what ‘things’ he was referring to. “Like, being responsible for what you
do?” asked Frank. “I’m getting better at that… and I know what being
disappointed is…”
Grady
closed his eyes and then took another breath. “That’s part of it, but it’s the
physical part of growing up that we need to talk about - you will get taller, and
your voice will change … Well, maybe. Some people’s voices get deeper. I don‘t
know if mine ever did.”
Frank
regarded his dad with a puzzled expression. “Like the beard you tried to grow
last year?“
He
saw his father’s adam’s apple bob up and down a few times. Whatever this was it
was very difficult for his father to say. In a perverse way, Frank almost
wanted to draw out the moment to make his father as uncomfortable about - what
ever they were talking about as possible. He couldn’t imagine what was making
Grady so nervous.
“Well,
yes,” (taking a deep breath) “and you will start to have feelings for girls and
want to do things with them, like kissing them.” His father said it in such a
rush that Frank knew there had to be more to what he meant, but from the
particular color on Grady’s face he didn’t think now was the time to push it.
He did have an honest question, though, that he needed to ask. It was more of a
question regarding acceptance.
“Dad.
What if I have feelings for guys?”
Grady
shrugged. “Then you have feelings for them. And it doesn’t change how much your
mother and I love you. The point is you have to be responsible though for what
you do with those feelings.”
“Is
this about earlier today or something else, Dad?”
Frank
saw his father blink a few times then remove his glasses. He folded his glasses
and put them in his pocket. For a moment he didn’t say anything. Grady sighed.
Frank noticed that his father’s mood had changed from being nervous to being
very somber.
“Frank,
you, need to know something. When I told you that your mother was having tests
done, there were a few that were good, and some that were not so good. She - we’re
going to have another child, but the baby isn’t doing well. There are medical
names for it, but it all breaks down to failure to thrive for the infant. The
baby is alive, but it just isn’t growing right… even if we go all the way
through the nine months, to term, and the baby is born… the doctors don’t know
if it could survive the birth, and most of them that are born that way have
tremendous medical problems. Your mother and I didn’t think we could have any
more children because of our age, but you were so delicious growing up, we had
to keep trying. When we had you, she was huge … even at six months along. She
hasn‘t gained more than five pounds during the entire pregnancy, and the last
test showed the baby weighed less than a quarter of a pound.” Grady stopped and
closed his eyes. Frank could see tears under his dad’s lashes.
“I
didn’t make things easier for mum and you, did I?” Frank said sadly.
Grady
looked at Frank “Oh, Frank. No. Nothing that was done or said was the reason
for this. It happens. We just need to decide what to do from here. One of the doctors
that we went to suggested terminating the pregnancy, and another said there is
a chance that everything could be fine, with time… They said that there wasn‘t
anything that we could do or not do that would make a difference. We didn‘t
know when we started out that your mother was going to have a baby - we were
already in
“What
did Willie say? He made
“Yes,
Frank?”
“What
was happening in the shed - whatever it was - that’s what ... that’s how ... And
mum’s worried that I might…” Frank screwed up his face a bit as he frowned. He
saw his dad take a breath.
“Uh,
yes…” said Grady, a bit uncomfortable with what might be asked next.
“Dad…
you really don’t need to worry about that with me. I love Angela and all, but
it’s going to be years and years before I am old enough to get married to her.
If I even thought to do something like - well, whatever - she would probably use
her tranq gun on me or something until I came to my senses. And she might find
someone else in the meantime but that’s ok. We will still be friends. Now, what
did Willie say about Mum?”
Grady
closed his eyes. Tears came down his cheeks as he said softly, “Willie was the
most honest about the baby’s chances of survival, and what we are up against.“
Frank
planted both of his hands on Grady’s chest. “Dad, don’t give up on my baby
sister. Please?”
Wrapping
his arms around his son, Grady pulled him close and gave him a hug. “We won’t
ever give up,” he said to Frank. For a while the two of them clung to each
other before Grady pulled back.
“Dad,
you know what this means, don’t you?”
“Um…
refresh my memory… it’s been a long day…”
“We
have to move. Not that I mind sharing my room with my little sister for a
while, but by the time I am ready to start dating, she will be into kindergarten
and I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with her using my love letters to color
on. I know you and mum planned on moving to Brooklyn maybe in a few years, but,
Cabot Cove is a much nicer place to raise a family, and Aunt Jessica will be
there to help watch both of us when you an mum need a night on the town - not
that in Cabot Cove that lasts much longer than 8 pm, but still… And Willie and
Taylor live next door to Aunt Jessica, so Willie can help make my little sister
better…maybe even make mum well enough later so we could have a little brother
to pick on when she grows up a bit. ‘Sides, I was such a handful, is there any
hope of handling me AND a too-cute-for-words little sister of mine?”
Frank
saw Grady look down to the ground quickly. “So, there’s something else I should know,”
Frank said, studying his father. “I know that look.”
“With
your mother being, ill, I’ve let the company know - well, I finished the
contract and they are happy with it, but your mother and I were on our way home
to settle things when the word about the wedding came to us from Aunt Jessica.
I’ve given notice regarding my job to be with your mother. There won’t be any
money for a house, and what money there is will be taken by medical bills. We
were going to put the things we have in storage and stay with your grandmother
and grandfather Mayberry, but we didn’t want to have you worry over the summer.
It will probably be the last vacation that we will be able to have for a while.
It doesn’t look good for a CPA to go bankrupt.”
“Honest
ones do. Things will work out, dad. Have faith… if it’s all the same to you,
dad, Cabot Cove is a much better place to raise kids than where Grandma and
Grandpa Mayberry are.”
“It’s
not just about having a place to stay, Frank. I know Aunt Jessica would take us
in, and she does have two guest rooms, but, well, your mom feels better going
to her parents’ place.”
Frank
looked at his dad. “Dad, don’t worry about me. Okay? I won’t be causing them
any grief, like I did before.”
Grady’s
eyebrows went up.
“Grief?”
He gave Frank an unexpected grin. “Oh, Frank… Please don’t change with how you
act around them. Promise me that?”
“Dad…”
Frank said, faintly scandalized. “You want me to give them more gray hairs?”
“Maybe,
it keeps them young,“ he said, gathering his son in his arms.
Grady
held his son as he watched the constable’s car pull down the lane to a house
not far from where Mither’s was. The constable looked at a clipboard then went
to the house and knocked on the door. While they couldn’t hear what was being
said, it was clear by the cry of pain from the woman, how she fell to her knees
and wept, what had happened. It brought the neighbors out, and the constable
was surrounded by people who listened to him as he read off from the list.
“Dad?”
“Yes,
son?”
“How
come we got out alive, just to lose Faraday?”
Grady
took a breath, and kissed his son’s head. “I don’t know, Frank. None of us know
when we are called back home. None of us know the reasons why we’re here. Your
mother and I have never regretted having you for a single moment.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lunch
and dinner seemed to merge that day. Emma took over in the kitchen busying
herself with making the soup and gallons of hot tea that Gram had provided and
instructed the kids to go about the house making sure every one had one to
bring them comfort.
It
didn’t surprise Willie when
It
was empty now, but the doors were open. Walking in she saw that they had taken
boards and covered up where the windows had been broken. She saw there was a
four-by-eight sheet of plywood along the wall that hadn’t been used. Taking a
breath she dragged it to the back of the church and laid it down. She pulled
the pencil out of her pocket and sitting on the board she began to draw.
“Hello…
Can I help you? I say, that’s rather lovely,” she heard a voice say behind her.
The footsteps moved around to the front of where she was drawing. She saw black
shoes and black pants. The person crouched down and regarded her. He offered
her his hand. “I’m Father Brian. I’m rather new here, just came in today -
taking over for Father Julian Dania. He left rather suddenly yesterday to go on
a sabbatical.”
“Do
you believe in ghosts, Father Brian?” she asked softly. She watched him sit on
the tile floor as if he had been pushed onto his backside by an invisible hand.
He placed his hand down on the floor to support himself, then cleared his
throat.
“Well,
the Catholic Church is far more into mysticism than most people would think.
There are things we can’t explain that by the grace of God we accept, in faith,”
he said, righting himself and removing his dark taupe outer jacket, placing it
on the bench back.
“You
deserve to know the truth then. Many years ago, a man was involved in the
“One
would think that a family steeped in such monstrous behavior would be noticed
rather quickly, but from the townspeople’s point of view, the family members were
the pillars of the community, donating money to the church in large sums,
providing scholarships for the children of the village, putting a medical
research wing on the hospital. The villagers didn’t notice that the children
weren’t coming back from the university. They would get letters, but after a
while the letters would stop. It was thought that the children, once educated,
had found their way in the world, and left everything behind to start a new
life. One mother did question why her daughter hadn’t written. She made
inquiries to the university and learned that they had no record of her daughter
being there, or ever being accepted. The police recovered her body yesterday. Thirty
others died in the bowels of the man’s home where three young people managed to
escape with their lives, and bring proof of the treachery to light. The police
managed to catch the person helping him today, but at the cost of another
person’s life.
“Father
Brian, the constable came awhile ago to each family to regretfully inform them
of the discovery of their child’s death. It will fall to you to comfort them,
and to bury their children.” She sat up and looked at him. “You need to know
that Father Dania knew what was going on, and accepted funds from this man to
look the other way.“
Father
Brian looked down at the drawing she had done on the board. It was a series of
windows, each building on the other. He looked back at her and nodded. “I heard
the crying… I am rather new at this, and I didn’t know if I should intrude, or
if they would come to me for comfort and guidance during this time of need.
They wouldn’t even tell me what happened to Father
“He
was shown the truth.”
“How?”
Father
Brian goggled at her. “You called lightning down from the heavens? A bolt from
the blue, as they say… “
She
looked at him. “I can only replace what should have been placed in the church
in the first place. I do not ask any favors, from this parish or you, except to
search for the truth and follow faith of the heavens, not the will of man.”
The
office phone rang, sending a signal over to the church as a chirping sound that
prompted Father Brian to stand up and excuse himself to answer it. She didn’t
move when she heard the soft footsteps from the dark shadows near the side entrance
and steps to the loft. “No, Gabe,” she said with out turning.
“Did
I say you were?” his voice asked gently.
“I’m
not hiding. I am working. It’s important.”
Gabe
walked over to her and knelt down beside her. “Rebuilding lives is always
important in whichever way is chosen.” He held out his hand to her and helped her
stand up. “I need your help,” he said escorting her out of the church to where
a hitched wagon was that had boxes and wrapped pipes that were 6 feet long.
“For the windows. It will help get things started.”
“Thank
you,”
Together
they carried in the glass sheets and the lead c channel and framing for the
windows.
Gabe
stayed long enough to help set up a small work area for her to be comfortable
in, and then kissed her forehead and said he had some errands to do before he
left.
Toot
wandered in a short time later and sat watching her work. He didn’t comment on
what she was doing, nor did he offer assistance. When the mid-day came he had
said to her, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
She
paused in her work and regarded him. His green eyes twinkled in the sunlight
and there was a look of sadness upon his face. “I know.”
He
scuffed the floor with his foot. “I have na regrets about this morning. I
always ha loved her though we couldn‘t be together. We didna think that with
all of them away welcoming tha’ new one, tha’ there would be any one about.”
“I
do not condemn you if you love her with your heart. “
Toot
regarded her in silence. “Does Thaladirith?” he asked softly.
“Mother Rosemary is old enough to seek comfort where she wills. He has come to
terms with that. Understand though, he loves his mother, and if she should come
to distress by you, I would not be able to stay his hand.”
Toot
looked away for a moment then turned back to her. “Aye, lass, I know. I would
do no less for my own mother,” he said before walking out of the church.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flynn didn’t say
anything for a moment. “There are no innocent people, Mrs. Fletcher,” he said,
his voice becoming hard.
The door opened behind
Flynn and Tipper and Faraday came through it. Faraday was a bit surprised to
see the gun. “You said no one was to get hurt,” he said.
“I said ‘no one
important,’” Flynn replied, swinging the gun point blank in Tipper’s direction.
“NO!” Tipper felt
herself being spun around and then jolted backwards as she and Faraday fell to
the floor. Tipper heard a scream, and felt a heavy wetness spread through the
material of her top. She struggled a bit, unable to move and realized someone
was on top of her. In a rush the weight lifted off. Some one helped her sit up.
Tipper looked around and saw that it was Jessica, and that George had gently
rolled Faraday off of her. She pushed George away. Bright blood bubbled from
just under Faraday’s right arm. His eyes were wide and a trace of blood
trickled down from his mouth. Tipper placed her hand over the gasping wound.
From the sound of the air issuing from the hole she knew he had a punctured
lung, and the amount of blood coming past her fingers told her there was more
damage within.
“I’m sorry,” Faraday
managed to say with great effort. Tipper put her arm under his head and raised
his body, allowing his shattered lungs to work a bit better.
“WILLIE!!!” Tipper
yelled, then looked down at Faraday as she cradled him in her arms, desperately
trying to stop his life blood from leaving his body. She knew that Willie was
close - they had been a few rooms over when Faraday had heard Flynn’s voice
speaking with Jessica. Curious, she had taken Faradays hand and led him down
the hall to the back entrance of the study. She knew George was in the front
speaking to one of the officers who had come at his request. They hadn’t been
sure exactly what or whom they would find.
Willie came through
the door and glanced at Flynn. George’s bullet had taken care of keeping him
where he could do no further harm. He hurried over to where Tipper held Faraday,
and saw blood on his left arm. Ripping open the shirt, he saw bruising on the
left side of his body.
“Faraday … please,
don’t give up … Please … don’t give up …” Tipper said, holding him closer as
Willie bunched a handkerchief under her hand to help with the pressure. He
looked up at her and made a small shake of his head.
“Faraday - would you
like to hang your wash next to mine?” asked Tipper urgently.
She saw him focus on
her. “Aye ...“
Bending down she
kissed his lips gently. When she straightened up Tipper saw Faraday blink and
look beyond her. “Myrna…” he said
softly.
Turning her head she
looked in the direction that he was. She saw a young girl who looked a lot like
Mither standing next to a young man she didn’t recognize. She felt Faraday take a breath, then it
rustled out of his body. Tipper looked back, and saw him standing next to the
young woman, hugging her. For a moment their eyes met, and then he walked out
the door with the young woman between him and the other man.
Jessica watched as the
police hauled Flynn to his feet and escorted him handcuffed out of the room.
Tipper
sat up. She didn’t scream, but her breath came in ragged gasps. The dream she
had just had was very intense and it took a bit for it to fade. For a moment
she heard voices downstairs and looked about a bit groggy. It was only late
afternoon by the clock on the nightstand - what was she doing in bed? Darn jetlag.
She couldn’t find her shoes. She didn’t remember where she had taken them off.
Swinging her feet over, she placed her feet on the bare wood floor and curled
her toes until she was used to it. She stood up, and walked across to the
closed door. She felt as if she was drunk. Holding onto the wall she closed her
eyes and took a few breaths before continuing downstairs to where the others
were sitting in small groups. A few heads turned as she wobbled into the room.
She nodded back to them, not really recognizing anyone that she knew - she knew
they were MacGills, and it was easier to nod and say ‘Hello Mr. and Mrs.
MacGill’ than to remember their names.
Tipper
followed the sound of the voices to the kitchen. She recognized Gram and Mither,
who were speaking with Willie. Going into the kitchen she saw someone lying on
the table with a sheet over their legs, and Mither holding up an arm as it she
washed it. Gram was brewing something in a large pot, and Willie was saying
something in Gaelic that she didn’t understand. Tipper walked forward and saw
that it was Faraday on the table, that he was being washed, and something - a
cloth that had words written in Gaelic on it - was laid aside.
Tipper
walked to the table, reached out and touched Faraday’s lips with her fingertips
and felt that they were cold. Her fingers traced down his throat to his chest
where her hand stayed. She looked up at Mither. “He saved my life.” She blinked
a few times, then, just as carefully that she had come in, she walked out. Seth
met her at the door and escorted her to where Donna and Grady were in the
sitting room.
Frank
came into the room. Ian and he had been putting the younger ones in for an
afternoon nap, and had decided to stay with his sisters awhile. He walked over
to where his mother was. “You need to be resting, Mum,” he said, guiding her to
the sofa and kissing her forehead as he tucked a coverlet over her. “It’s going
to be a long day.” He looked at Tipper. “Are you alright?”
She
nodded. “I’m fine… I just feel like I have slept a bit too much and I’m a bit
groggy, but that’s all. Did they have dinner yet?”
Frank
went over to the china set, poured Tipper a cup of tea and carried it to her. “The
kitchen is a bit busy right now, but pretty soon we can get you some soup, and
Mither made homemade bread earlier to go with it. They have to move Faraday to
the front parlor for the wake.”
“The
wake?” Tipper looked puzzled for a moment.
“It’s
what they do. It goes on for three days and then they have the burial. Someone
will be with him at all times… usually the men folk. They are going to put both
Faraday and his sister in the same place,” Frank said softly. He watched as
Tipper listened to him, but she seemed distracted by something. Willie had said
she might act a bit odd, but he almost preferred the crying, because sadness
was something he could understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No
sooner than Jessica and George managed to get the young child washed, George
wrinkled his nose and noticed that she had soiled herself. Sighing, he drained
the tub and filled it again for another bath. It had taken several baths to
scrub off all of the dirt and grime and beneath it they had found a little girl
of almost four with dark brown hair and blue eyes that George knew lads would
get lost in.
“So,
where did you come from, Princess?” Jessica asked gently to the little girl
once she was cleaned and then taken downstairs to where the kitchen was.
Officer O’Neil managed to find some peanut butter that he placed on bread and
some apple juice for her. She hadn’t spoken; her language was moans and squeaks
of surprise and sometimes a yell if things didn’t go her way. The bath had terrified
her at first until she realized it wasn’t going to hurt her.
After
her belly was full she rubbed her eyes. Jessica brought a blanket and wrapped
it about her shoulders as she said to George, “We should be getting back to the
bed and breakfast with Princess.”
“Jessica,
one can not just simply leave with a child under one’s arm if the parentage is
not known in a situation like this. For all we know this child’s parents may be
looking for her…”
“George,
there isn’t any way that the hospital staff would have a clue as to what is to
be done with this child. There are two doctors on the premises at Mither’s, and
from what I understand Willie did do pediatric work, and has had experience
with victims of crimes…against women.”
George
saw how difficult it was for Jessica to say such a thing. He took a breath. “If
that old goat has laid a finger on this child I will personally draw and
quarter his scrawny carcass.”
George
saw Jessica regard the child as she looked around for something else to eat.
“He wouldn’t have to, George… he has already done far more harm to this child
by keeping her isolated in that room than anything else he could have done.
Let’s get Princess back to the bed and breakfast and go from there.”
“Jess, they have already released Faraday to his mother. Don’t you think that
there is enough going on there? Surely the people at the hospital youth
services could manage with her…”
“I’m
surprised at you, George - I would have thought you were the type that likes
children!”
“From a distance, and as long as they stay that far away, I am fine…” It was
with some alarm that he discovered when he turned the child stuffed several
fingers of hers that had peanut butter on them into his mouth. He heard Officer
O’Neil snicker as he wiped it off of his mouth and walked to the door. “As you
wish,” he said, eyeing the child for any other sudden movements.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It
took a while to get things settled at the bed and breakfast. Willie realized
Taylor had not returned from the church and going down after her, found her working
with Gabe, who had returned with more stained glass and tools to lift the large
windows into place. She didn’t say anything, and from the amount of work that
had been done he knew she had been working steadily at it. One window had been
replaced and several had a fair start on them. Light streamed through the
window as the sun set . Willie sat in the back of the church, regarding it.
There were things to do, but right now gazing at the window was important.