“Oh, God,” Riley murmured.

“That was years ago. How long, Dealy? Thirty years?”

“Twenty-seven,” Riley said.

“Yes. That’s right,” Johnnie said. “It happened a few months after my youngest girl was born. She was sick with a fever and we couldn’t go to the wake. He was buried with his mother’s family in Glengarriff, if I recall.”

“What’s he to you?” Markus asked.

“There was a photo of him and some of his friends on the wall over there. I was just curious.”

“He used to come into the pub a lot. Was quite a charmer, that one. Always looking for a pretty girl.”

“That’s what I heard,” Riley said. He drew a deep breath and rested his hands on the bar. “Katie’s got a tasty stew going for lunch today. Can I interest you in a bowl or two?”

“Oh, that would be grand,” Dealy said. “And where is the cute little colleen of yours?”

“She’s wandering about town,” Riley said as he walked toward the kitchen. “I’m off to find her right now.” When he got inside the kitchen, Riley found Danny sitting at one of the prep tables, reading a newspaper and drinking a mug of coffee. “Have you come to work?” he asked as he handed Katie the order.

“Right after I eat,” his brother said. “I figured you’d want the day to spend with your girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” he said. “Not officially.”

“Do you want it to be official?” Danny asked.

“Hell, I don’t know. I don’t want her to go home. But I’m not sure if that’s because I’m falling in love with her or because the sex is crazy good.”

“I’m not hearin’ this,” Katie said from behind them both. She put her hands over her ears. “Leave my kitchen with your talk of sin and sex.”

“Katie, girl, you’ve had three children. Certainly you know about how it all works in the bedroom,” Danny teased.

“Yes, but I’m married and you’re not. And I have three daughters, although thankfully, you’ll never get near them. You both need to go to confession.”

Danny picked up his paper and his mug and walked out the back door, Riley following him. They walked around to the front of the pub and sat down on a bench near the front door. “What are you going to do about this girl?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know,” Riley said. “I have to find some way to get her to stay.”

“Have you thought about going home with her? It wouldn’t be a bad way to see America.”

“Yeah. But there’s not a lot I can offer her. You know, women love musicians, but they don’t want to marry them, at least not those of us who spend our weekends in pubs filled with drunken girls.”

“You make more than most,” Danny said, “And if you focused on writing songs and producing, you’d make even more. Hell, how much do you need? You’ve got enough saved to buy a decent house.”

“She deserves more than a decent house. She deserves a grand house and fine clothes and no worries for the rest of her life.”

“Are you even sure that’s what she wants?” Danny asked. “She doesn’t seem like the type to care about things like that.”

“Isn’t that what every woman wants?”

“I think the point of being in love is that you want each other and the rest of it takes care of itself.”

Riley leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Wouldn’t that be nice if it were that simple.”

“Maybe you should just stop worrying about this and let it happen,” Danny suggested. “If she doesn’t love you, you can’t force her to. And you’re not sure how you feel.”

“Don’t you wonder if you might have missed a chance at something good because you weren’t playing attention or you just didn’t give it enough time?”

Danny shook his head. “The way I see it, love shouldn’t be that fragile that it hinges on simple circumstances. It’s tough and resilient and once you find it, it doesn’t go away easily. It’s always there.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No. But that’s the way I imagine it to be.”

Riley stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I have to go. You’ll keep an eye on the pub? The Unholy Trinity is in there waiting for lunch.”

“Don’t jump the gun on this, Riley,” Danny warned. “The last thing you want is to convince her to stay then realize that you don’t really love her at all. It would be a cruel thing, that.”

Riley started off down the street. Nan had decided to spend the morning exploring Ballykirk on her own, anxious to visit the church and few of the shops. He’d agreed to meet her for a picnic lunch and a drive along the coast before he had to be back for rehearsal.

If the time was right, he’d try again to convince her to stay. It wasn’t that difficult to change a plane ticket, and she still hadn’t learned much about her mother. And there were so many sights they hadn’t seen. Given the rest of the day, he could probably come up with more reasons for her to delay her departure, but for now, that was enough.


THE PUB WAS PACKED with barely enough room to move. Riley had saved a seat for Nan next to Martin, his moody cousin, and the band’s sound technician. Nan felt relieved she didn’t have to try to watch from the midst of the crush and had a nice little elevated perch from which to see the stage.

She had to wonder where the crowd had come from. Ballykirk was such a small village. But everyone in attendance seemed to be familiar with the band, dancing and shouting out names and singing along with the lyrics.

As the evening went on, the crowd became more and more boisterous and the music more raucous. She’d known Riley as the sweet and sexy guy who spent his nights in her bed and his days driving her all over Ireland. But when he was on stage, she got a chance to see a different side of him.

From the moment he began singing, he had the audience under his spell. Like a lover, he teased and seduced them with his songs, making them want more. He smiled and joked and charmed. And with each song, he built toward a frenzy of energy and music that made her want to jump up and dance. The lively tunes, the playful lyrics, the fiddle and the penny whistle, it was all so much good fun.

Though she knew she was probably imagining things, Riley seemed to be singing every song to her, their gazes meeting across the room. When she waved at him, he’d smile. The band finally left the stage after a rousing rendition of a Pogues song that left the audience exhausted, yet satisfied. But Riley stayed on stage, sitting down on a stool with an acoustic guitar.

“This is a song for a beautiful lady from America. It’s a song I wrote especially for her and this is the first time I’m going to play it. I hope you like it.”

Nan leaned forward, her elbows on the sound table, her eyes fixed on Riley as he spun the tale of a man in love with a beautiful selkie. The way he sang the ballad, it was as if he were singing about the two of them, and their fated relationship.

Nan watched him, amazed at the depth of emotion he conveyed to the audience…and to her. She barely knew Riley, and even though they’d been more intimate than she’d ever been with a man before, she didn’t know the tiny details of his life. But, as she watched him, she felt a certain sense of pride in his talent and a fierce attachment.

This was the man who’d chosen to share her bed, this was the man that every girl in the room was lusting after. And tonight, she’d go home with him, she’d take his clothes off and lie naked beside him. A shiver skittered through her body, the anticipation causing an intense physical response.

Riley sang two more songs, both of them sweet love songs, before he nodded to the crowd and stepped off stage, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. He headed directly to the control table, but his trip was interrupted again and again by enthusiastic fans-mostly female.

When he finally reached her, he glanced back over his shoulder and took her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I need some air.” She stood and he leaned closer. “I need some you.”

They walked out the front door, into the cool night, and Nan wrapped her arm around his as they strolled aimlessly toward the waterfront. The sounds from the pub faded and when they were finally alone, she spoke. “You were so good. I was just so impressed.”

“That I can sing?”

“No, I knew you could sing. You sang that song for me the first night we were together. And I loved the song about the selkie,” Nan said. “It was so sad. But you have this way with the audience. You draw them in. And they can’t help but love you.”

“And you?”

“I love you, too,” Nan said, only realizing the meaning of her words after they’d been said.

There were a few people wandering along the quay and they all recognized Riley and said hello. He found a spot for them to sit, then took a long sip of his beer, staring out at the water, his expression turning serious.

Nan felt a nervous twist in her stomach. She shouldn’t have said that to him. He must have misunderstood. It wasn’t that she loved him. She loved the person he was on stage, singing to her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, ready to hear the typical excuses. She shouldn’t get too attached. She’d be going home soon. They were moving too fast. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Said what?” he asked.

“Th-that I…loved you. It came out wrong.”

He chuckled. “That’s not it. I like that you said that.”

“Then why do you look so serious?”

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Today, at the pub, I asked the Unholy Trinity if they remembered Carey Findley. And Johnnie O’Malley knew a little more about Tiernan.”

“What about Tiernan?”

Riley paused. “As Johnnie remembers, Tiernan died shortly after your mother left Ireland.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her expression stunned. “How?”

“He drowned in the bay a few months after your mom went home. He was trying to save a friend. And I called Carey Findley again this afternoon and he’d like to see you. He remembers your mom. And from what he told me, she and Tiernan had a thing.”