This place was as familiar to him as the library was to her. She peered at an old photo hung above the cash register and then circled the bar to take a closer look.

A man and woman stood in front of the pub with two teenage girls and a trio of young boys. Nothing had changed much in the ensuing years with respect to Riley and Danny, Nan thought. The two Quinn brothers she’d already met still possessed their boyish smiles and tousled hair. The sisters, though all arms and legs, were already beauties.

The kitchen door opened and Danny reappeared with a plate and a mug. “Here we are,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Nan murmured. “I was just taking a look at this photo. You and your brother haven’t changed much.”

“That was taken the day my da bought in to the Hound,” he said. “I think I was seven. Riley was nine and Kellan would have been eleven. Shanna and Claire were teenagers.” He set the plate and mug on the bar. “There are other photos over on that wall. A few of Riley performing when he was just a lad.”

She returned to her seat and picked up the coffee, then took a slow sip. “Umm, I really needed this. I have to shop for groceries today. I don’t have anything up at the cottage. Where would I go?”

“We have a small green grocer in town. He sells locally grown vegetables. And the baker’s right next door to him. If you want fish, just walk down to the waterfront when the boats come in. If you want chicken, Bobby Rankin raises them and will deliver them to the green grocer the day after you order. Anything else, you’ll need a real supermarket and that’s in Kenmare, across the pass.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” he said with a warm smile. “Now, you’ll have to pardon me because I need to change out the barrel on the Guinness.”

As promised, the soda bread was lovely-a bit tangy and filled with plump, sweet raisins. She spread butter over a slice and took a big bite, then groaned softly. It was the perfect breakfast food, she mused. Grabbing her mug, Nan walked over to the wall of photos, curious to find more of Riley. There were layers upon layers, some so old they were yellow and curled and the color faded.

As promised, there were a number of Riley performing at the pub, from the time he was just a young boy through adulthood. She compared each one, noting how happy he looked standing in front of the microphone, his guitar almost bigger than he was.

As she turned away to return to the bar, a snapshot caught her eye. Nan stepped closer, leaning in to the group of six young twenty-somethings-three men and three women. For a moment, her heart stopped beating and she felt dizzy.

One of the girls in the photo looked so much like her mother it was-no, it had to be her mother. She set her bread and coffee down on the edge of the pool table and carefully peeled the photo off the wall. Nan hurried over to the window, searching for more light.

“Oh, it is,” she murmured, the words coming out on a sigh. There was no doubt in her mind. Though the colors were faded, the girl with the red hair was someone she’d seen in pictures at home-the wedding photo her father had kept on the mantel, the framed portrait that she’d had next to her bed and the family pictures that her grandparents had pasted in albums.

A rap at the window startled Nan out of her contemplation and she looked up to find Riley smiling at her. She quickly shoved the photo into her jacket pocket and hurried to the door. When he stepped inside, Nan wasn’t quite sure what to do. She wanted to put the photo back where she’d found it, yet she needed time to examine it more closely.

She’d put it back later. No one would miss it, not with all the other photos tacked to the wall. Riley appeared in the doorway and Nan smiled. Her first impulse was to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. But the ease they shared yesterday had been tempered by a night apart. “Hi,” she said.

“Well, what kind of sorry greeting is that?” To her relief, Riley grabbed her around the waist and gave her a playful kiss. “Hello. You’re up early. I expected you’d sleep the day away.”

“No,” she said, smiling up at him. “I feel great.”

“You look great,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Danny brought me coffee and some soda bread. I didn’t have anything at the cottage to eat.”

“Well, we’ll have to go get you what you need. I’m just going to grab some coffee and we’ll be off.”

Nan retrieved her coffee from the pool table and gobbled down the rest of her bread, then wrapped the other two pieces in a bar napkin. When Riley returned with his coffee, he walked to the door and held it open. “Ireland awaits.”

When they got outside, Nan remembered that the car was still at the cottage. “We’ll have to walk back,” she said. “I was afraid to bring the car.”

“We can take my car,” he said. He pointed to a Toyota SUV parked at the curb. The back hatch was open and Katie, the cook, was retrieving small crates and setting them on the sidewalk. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Your car? This is what you drive?”

“Yeah. I have to haul a lot of gear when I have a gig. And this morning, I hauled mussels from Bantry.”

“If this car has an automatic transmission, I’m going to murder you,” she said.

He chuckled as he opened her door. “Sorry. It’s got a gearshift. And no, I’m not going to let you drive this one until you’ve mastered the clown car.”

“I’ve decided that I’m not going to learn how to drive that car. I’m just going to have you chauffeur me everywhere I want to go.”

He closed her door, then got in the driver’s side. “I think that’s a grand plan. And where would you like to go this morning?”

“I need to buy some groceries.”

They took off out of town, the morning breeze blowing through the sunroof of Riley’s SUV. As they drove up into the hills, the roads grew more winding and the landscape more rugged. “Why are there no trees?” she asked. “I expected forests.”

“Ah, that’s a long and complicated story,” he said.

“Tell me,” Nan said. “I want to know.”

“Ireland is a great rock of an island. Many years ago, the land was covered with trees, but people started to clear the higher land for pastures, mostly because there weren’t as many trees up high to clear. But without the trees, the good soil washed down to the lowlands and the only thing that would grow up high was heather. The heather doesn’t decompose and the new just keeps growing on top of the old and it makes peat. Peat soaks up water and turns land into a bog. And trees won’t grow in a bog.” He shrugged. “And pretty soon, all the trees were gone, high and low, cut for fuel or furniture.”

“I still think it’s beautiful,” she said. “Just the way it is. It’s wild and natural. Kind of uncivilized.”

“Did you bring your camera?” he asked. “We’ll stop at Healy Pass. There’s a grand overlook there that I think you’d like. Though the Cahas aren’t the Alps, they’re the highest in Cork.”

She reached in her pocket and pulled out her camera, but the photo fell out onto the console between them. Nan quickly picked it up, but not before Riley saw it. “What’s that?”

She held it out to him, hoping he’d forgive her for taking it from the pub. “It’s a photo of my mother,” Nan replied, holding it out to him. “I found it at the pub. I didn’t mean to take it, but I wanted to look at it more closely.”

“I’m sure it won’t be missed,” he said. “Those photos were in the pub when my folks bought it, so I can’t tell you much about them.” He stared at it. “Which one is she?”

“The one in the middle with the red hair,” she said. “At least I think that’s her.”

“Pretty,” he commented. He handed it back to Nan. “It’s easy to see where you got your fine looks.”

Nan frowned. “I don’t think I look like her at all. I think I resemble my dad. He had dark hair when he was young.”

They drove on, Nan staring at the photo and ignoring the landscape. All of the people in the photo had known her mother. And some of those people might have lived in Ballykirk. She flipped the photo over, hoping there might be an inscription on the back identifying the subjects, but it was blank.

If any of the people were from the village, someone would have to recognize them. And that might lead her to another person who might have known her mother. Nan ran her fingers over the photo. They all looked so young and happy. Her mother’s smile was so bright, her face alive with happiness.

As they continued their drive, Nan thought about her reasons for coming to Ireland. Was she chasing a ghost? The last two years of Laura Galvin’s life were spent in and out of hospitals and before that, Nan had only scant recollections of the lively and laughing woman.

All she knew was that there was an empty spot inside of her, as if part of her identity was missing. She wasn’t sure who to be or how to be. And when it came to love, she had nothing but romantic movies and books to guide her.

How many times had she wondered about love, about all the things that a mother told her daughter on the subject? No one had ever explained how it was supposed to feel. She’d never really seen it at home. Of all the questions she’d dreamed about asking her mother, that had been the most important. How would she know when she met the right man? How would it feel?

“Here we are,” Riley said. He turned onto the edge of the road. “We’ll have to walk a bit, but it will be worth it.”

Nan looked out the window, surprised by the change in the landscape and the weather. The powerful rugged beauty of the land took her breath away and she stared at the unearthly sight, made even more strange by the wispy fog that hung over it all. Everywhere she looked was a picture waiting to be snapped, a perfect postcard image of a countryside so stunning it made her heartache.