If her mother’s story was as she suspected, what Carey Findley knew could change everything. She had become her mother, coming to this magical place and fallen in love with a handsome Irishman. They had a common experience and everything she was feeling, her mother had felt as well. But she could make the choice to stay, to believe in this place and in the love she’d found.

Nan stood in the center of the circle again, tipping her face up to the noonday sun. She threw her hands out and closed her eyes. An odd feeling washed over her and suddenly, she felt as if she wasn’t alone.

A dog barked and Nan spun around to see a little black terrier running toward her. She froze, waiting for the dog to chomp into her leg. But, instead, he put his paws on her knee and wagged his tail.

“Don’t you worry, lass. He doesn’t bite. Come on, Georgie. Leave the lady alone.”

The dog sniffed at her feet and Nan reached down and gave him a pet. The little dog licked her hand before taking off again.

An elderly man carrying a long walking stick peeked around the corner of the stone, smiling warmly. “Sorry. He’s not afraid of strangers, that one.”

“It’s all right,” Nan said. “He just startled me for a second.”

“So, what are you doin’ out here all alone? Communing with the Druid spirits?”

“Something like that,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s a magical place.”

“That it is,” the man said. “That it is. I walk out here almost every day. Now and then, I catch sight of a faerie or two, though they’re easier to see at twilight.”

“I would love to see a faerie before I leave,” she said.

“You’re from America?”

Nan nodded. “Just visiting. I’m staying in Ballykirk.”

“I know it well,” he said. “I used to have a farm near there.”

Nan held out her hand. “I’m Nan. Nan Galvin.”

He reached to take her hand, then froze at the sound of her name. His hand trembled slightly. “Tiernan Galvin?”

“Yes,” she said. “How did you-” An odd feeling washed over her again and she felt suddenly calm. “And you’re Carey, aren’t you? Carey Findley.”

“Yes. I am.”

She shook her head, wondering at the mystical forces that had brought them together in his spot. It wasn’t just coincidence. She’d been drawn to this place for a reason. They were meant to meet. “This is so strange. A little bit spooky. I’ve read all your letters. I feel like I know you.”

“I got a call from your friend Riley Quinn. I was wondering if you’d stop to see me. I’ve been leaving a note on my door each day when I go out.”

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” she said. “But I guess I didn’t have to make the decision after all.”

Nan scrambled for a way to begin. She thought she’d have more time to explain why she’d come and what she wanted. But here he was, watching her with twinkling eyes and a bright smile.

“Maybe we should sit down,” she said. Nan pointed to a boulder sitting outside the stone circle. Carey followed her, taking a spot beside her.

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then allow me,” he said. “I wondered if you’d ever come. After your mother stopped writing, I thought maybe she’d decided she wasn’t going to ever tell you about Tiernan.”

“No,” Nan said, shaking her head. “She stopped writing because she died.”

His expression fell and she saw his eyes grow watery with tears. “I thought that might have been it,” he said. “She mentioned in some of her last letters that she was ill, but she didn’t give me any details.”

“You knew my mother?”

“I did,” he said. “She stayed at our farm with some of her friends. We used to let out a few of the extra bedrooms to students traveling around Ireland. Oh, she was a lively young woman, always laughing and teasing. She couldn’t keep still.”

“And your son? What was he like?”

“Handsome. Charming. Probably too charming for his own good, that one. All the girls loved him, but your mother, she was the one who captured his heart. When she left, he was so sad and angry.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to him,” Nan said.

Carey nodded, his face etched with grief. “It was a bad time. And my wife, she never really recovered. He was our only child and she grieved for him until the day she died.”

“Did they love each other? Tiernan and my mother?”

He folded his hands over his walking stick. “Oh, yes. I do think so. They were both so young, but they were happy together. When we got the news, it was difficult for Tiernan. My son wasn’t ready to be a father and Laura had no support over here, so she didn’t-”

“I don’t understand,” Nan said. “You said Tiernan was going to be a father. Did he get another girl pregnant? Is that why my mother left?”

The old man took a long breath then shook his head wearily. “You don’t know. You haven’t figured it out, have you?”

Nan pressed her hand to her chest. Had her heart stopped beating? Why couldn’t she breathe? “The baby was me,” she murmured. “It was me?”

“I’m sorry. I thought that’s why you’d come. That’s why I’d written to your mother for all those years. I wanted news of my granddaughter. You’re my granddaughter, Tiernan.”

Nan stood and walked over to one of the tall stones, pressing her hands against it as she tried to breathe again. Now, everything made perfect sense. Somewhere, deep inside her, she thought this might be it, but she’d refused to consider it.

“She was pregnant when she left?”

Carey shook his head. “When your mother got home, she found out she was pregnant. She knew Tiernan was the father and she wrote him a letter to tell him. He threw the letter in the rubbish and I found it and read it. I wrote back to her, begging her to come and live with us, determined to make Tiernan stand by her. But by that time, she’d already married your father.”

“But then Tiernan died,” Nan murmured.

“No one knew about you, outside of our family. But it changed him. He became more reckless, more headstrong. I think, in the end, he realized how much he loved Laura and what a mistake he’d made. But, by then, it was too late.”

“You lost your grandchild and then your child.”

“It killed my wife. After Tiernan’s accident, she couldn’t bring herself to look at your mother’s letters. She was even afraid to look at your photos for fear she might love you and that you might resemble Tiernan-which you do, by the way. Living so far away from you was too much for her to bear.”

“I read your letters,” Nan said. “They’re what brought me here. What if I’d never found them? What if my father had thrown them away? I never would have known.”

“I still have the letters she sent me. And all the photos she sent. And she left a sketchbook that I found in Tiernan’s room after he died. I think you should have them.”

“I’d love to see them,” Nan said.

Carey stood up and whistled for his dog. “Come along, then. I live just down the lane. We’ll walk and chat on the way.”

Nan got up, her knees wobbly and her emotions barely in check, and they started toward the road. Carey peppered her with questions about her life, from her very first memories of her childhood to what she’d been doing a week ago. She answered him numbly, her body and mind on autopilot.

She wanted to sit down in the middle of the road and just take a moment. Everything seemed to be moving so fast, she hadn’t had time to react. She felt like crying and laughing at the same time.

How hard had it been for her father? He must have known, yet he kept the secret all these years, raising the child of another man. And what about her mother, walking away from the boy she loved and stepping into a marriage of convenience, merely to give her daughter a name? Her entire life had been one big charade.

As Carey had said, his cottage was only a quarter mile down the road from the stone circle. It was a tidy little home, much like the Quinn cottage, whitewashed but with a slate roof and pretty blue front door. They walked through the front garden and he held the door open for her, Georgie scampering in beneath her feet.

“I’ll just put on the water for a pot of tea,” he said. He pointed to the comfortable parlor. “Sit down and take a rest. I know this is a lot to comprehend in a very short time.”

Dazed, Nan walked into the cozy room then noticed the framed photos sitting on a shelf between the windows. She crossed to examine them more closely, then realized many of them were of her as a child. She drew a ragged breath and tears flooded her eyes.

This man was her grandfather. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had family. Nan picked up a photo of a handsome boy with dark hair and devilish eyes. And this was her father. “Tiernan,” she murmured, running her fingers over his image, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Carey reappeared, clutching a large black book in his arms. Wiping the tears away with her sleeve, Nan sat down and took the book from his outstretched hands. She recognized what it was immediately. Her father had given her three or four of her mother’s old sketchbooks, filled with drawings of Nan and various places around their neighborhood. But these drawings would be from before Nan even existed.

“Open it,” Carey said. “I think she left it with Tiernan as a kind of memory of the time they spent together. When I moved from the farm, I found it in his closet and I kept it. I always hoped that one day, I’d get to meet you and I could give it back.”

She hugged it to her chest. “Thank you. I-I think I’ll look at it later.”

“Well, I’d expect this has all come as quite a shock to you.”

Nan nodded. “I’m not sure what to say. This morning, I didn’t have a family and now I do.”

“When are you planning to return home?”

“I have a flight back in a few days,” she said. “On Wednesday.”