“Like the little dolls with the pretty costumes or the jewelry cases with the ballerinas that spun around on top.”

“Oh, I think we can find something a little more suited to our ages, but yes, that’s the idea.”

“All right, then. We’ll do it.”

It was because they’d talked about their father that memories swarmed Brianna after they reached Galway. With the car parked, they joined the pedestrian traffic, the shoppers, the tourists, the children.

She saw a young girl laughing as she rode her father’s shoulders.

He used to do that, she remembered. He’d give her and Maggie turns up, and sometimes he’d run so that they’d bounce, squealing with pleasure.

Or he’d keep their hands firmly tucked in his while they wandered, spinning them stories while they jostled along the crowded streets.

When our ship comes in, Brianna my love, I’ll buy you pretty dresses like they have in that window there.

One day we’ll travel up here to Galway City with coins leaking out of our pocket. Just you wait, darling.

And though she’d known even then they were stories, just dreaming, it hadn’t diminished the pleasure of the seeing, the smelling, the listening.

Nor did the memories spoil it now. The color and movement of Shop Street made her smile as it always did. She enjoyed the voices that cut through the lilting Irish—the twangs and drawls of the Americans, the guttural German, the impatient French. She could smell a hint of Galway Bay that carried on the breeze and the sizzling grease from a nearby pub.

“There.” Maggie steered the stroller closer to a shop window. “That’s perfect.”

Brianna maneuvered through the crowd until she could look over Maggie’s shoulder. “What is?”

“That great fat cow there. Just what I want.”

“You want a cow?”

“Looks like porcelain,” Maggie mused, eyeing the glossy black-and-white body and foolishly grinning bovine face. “I bet it’s frightfully priced. Even better. I’m having it. Let’s go in.”

“But what’ll you do with it?”

“Give it to Rogan, of course, and see that he puts it in that stuffy Dublin office of his. Oh, I hope it weighs a ton.”

It did, so they arranged to leave it with the clerk while they completed the rest of their shopping. It wasn’t until they’d eaten lunch and Brianna had studied the pros and cons of half a dozen food processors that she found her own bit of foolishness.

The fairies were made of painted bronze and danced on wires hung from a copper rod. At a flick of Brianna’s fingers, they twirled, their wings beating together musically.

“I’ll hang it outside my bedroom window. It’ll make me think of all the fairy stories Da used to tell us.”

“It’s perfect.” Maggie slipped an arm around Brianna’s waist. “No, don’t look at the price,” she said when Brianna started to reach for the little tag. “That’s part of it all. Whatever it costs, it’s the right choice.

Go buy your trinket, then we’ll figure out how to get mine to the car.”

In the end they decided that Maggie would wait at the shop with the cow, with Liam and the rest of their bags, while Brianna drove the car around.

In a breezy mood she strolled back to the car park. She would, she thought, hang her fairy dance as soon as she got home. And then she would play with her fine new kitchen toy. She was thinking how delightful it would be to create a salmon mousse or to finely dice mushrooms with such a precision instrument.

Humming, she slipped behind the wheel, turned the ignition. Perhaps there was a dish she could try to add to the grilled fish she intended to make for dinner. What would Gray enjoy especially? she wondered as she steered toward the exit to pay her fee. Colcannon, perhaps, and a gooseberry fool for dessert—if she could find enough ripe gooseberries.

She thought of the berries’ season as those first days of June. But Gray would be gone then. She clamped down on the twinge around her heart. Well, it was nearly June in any case, she told herself and started to drive out of the lot. And she wanted Gray to have her special dessert before he went away.

Brianna heard the shout as she started into her turn. Startled, she jerked her head. She only had time to suck in a breath for the scream as a car, taking the turn too sharp and on the wrong side, crashed into hers.

She heard the screech of metal rending, of glass shattering. Then she heard nothing at all.

“So Brianna’s gone shopping,” Iris commented as she joined Gray in the kitchen. “That’s lovely for her. Nothing puts a woman in a better frame of mind than a good shopping binge.”

He couldn’t imagine practical Brianna bingeing on anything.

“She went off to Galway with her sister. I told her we could manage if she didn’t make it home by tea.” Feeling a little proprietary about the kitchen, Gray heaped the food Brianna had prepared earlier onto platters. “It’s only the three of us tonight anyway.”

“We’ll be cozy right here.” Iris set the teapot in its cozy on the table. “You were right to convince her to take a day for herself with her sister.”

“I nearly had to drag her out to the car—she’s so tied to this place.”

“Deep, fertile roots. It’s why she blooms. Just like her flowers out there. Never in my life have I seen such gardens as hers. Why, just this morning, I was—Ah, there you are, Johnny. Just in time.”

“I had the most invigorating walk.” Carstairs hung his hat on a peg, then rubbed his hands together. “Do you know, my dear, they still cut their own turf?”

“You don’t say so.”

“I do indeed. I found the bog. And there were stacks of it, drying in the wind and sun. It was just like stepping back a century.” He gave his wife a peck on the cheek before turning his attention to the table. “Ah, what have we here?”

“Wash your hands, Johnny, and we’ll have a nice tea. I’ll pour out, Grayson. You just sit.”

Enjoying them, and their way with each other, Gray obliged her. “Iris, I hope you’re not offended if I ask you something.”

“Dear boy, you can ask whatever you like.”

“Do you miss it?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand as she passed him the sugar. “I do. From time to time, I do. That life on the edge sort of feeling. So invigorating.” She poured her husband’s cup, then her own. “Do you?” When Gray only lifted a brow, she chuckled. “One recognizes one.”