What the Wind Knows(41)

“Mr. Kelly had it in a drawer. He forgot all about it until we came into the shop,” Eoin added.

Thomas’s eyes met mine, and I felt certain he already knew the story of the ring.

“I got my father’s watch, and my mother got to keep her ring, see?” Eoin patted my hand.

“Yes. I see. You’ll have to take very good care of this watch. Put it with your button somewhere safe,” Thomas said.

Eoin looked at me, a guilty expression on his sticky face. He wondered if I was going to tell Doc about his attempt to sell his treasure; I could see the dread wrinkling his nose. I helped him put the watch back into his pocket, meeting his eyes with a smile, reassuring him.

“Do you know how to tell time, Eoin?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Then I will teach you so that you can use the watch.”

“Who taught you how to tell time?” he asked.

“My grandfather,” I said softly. There must have been sadness in my face because the little boy patted my cheek with his grubby fingers, comforting me.

“Do you miss him?”

“Not anymore,” I said, and my voice quaked.

“Why?” He was shocked the way I had been once, long ago.

“Because he is still with me,” I whispered, repeating the words my grandfather had said to me as he’d rocked me in his arms. And suddenly the world shifted and the light dawned, and I wondered if my grandfather had known who I was all along.



I helped Eoin wash his hands, and together we tidied ourselves before dinner. My hair had lost its pins, and curls hung loose around my face and down my back. I set it all free, wet my fingers, and tamed each curl as best I could before pulling the bulk of it back into a loose ponytail with a piece of ribbon I’d found in Anne’s chest. I wanted nothing more than to fall, face-first, into my bed. My side screamed, my hands shook, and I had no appetite, but for the first time, I sat down at the table with the family.

Brigid sat in stony silence at dinner, her back stiff. She chewed miniscule bites of food that barely moved her jaw. Her eyes had grown wide and then narrowed to slits when she’d watched us traipse inside, arms full of parcels, shoeboxes, and hatboxes that were taken to my room. She didn’t respond to Eoin’s excited recounting of the smashed store windows or the lollipop Mrs. Geraldine Cummins had purchased for him or the wondrous toys he’d seen on the shelves. Brigid had placed the boy next to her at the table, with Thomas as the head and me on the opposite side, across from Eoin, an empty space between Thomas and me. It was an odd placement, but it saved Brigid from having to look at me and kept me as far away from Eoin and Thomas as possible.

Eleanor, Maeve’s older sister, hovered near the kitchen door, standing by in case something was needed. I smiled at her and complimented her on the fare. I didn’t have much appetite, but the food was delicious.

“That will be all, Eleanor. Run along home. Anne can clear the table and clean up when we are finished,” Brigid commanded.

After the girl excused herself, Thomas eyed Brigid with raised brows. “Reassigning chores, Mrs. Gallagher?” he asked.

“I’m happy to do it,” I interjected. “I need to contribute.”

“You are exhausted,” Thomas said, “and Eleanor is going to worry all the way home that she’s done something wrong and displeased Brigid because she always cleans up after dinner and takes the leftovers home to her family.”

“I simply think Anne owes you a great debt that she should begin repaying as soon as possible,” Brigid shot back, her color high, her voice elevated.

“I will handle my debts and those who are indebted to me, Brigid,” Thomas said, his tone quiet but clipped. Brigid flinched, and Thomas sighed.

“First two beggars and now three?” Brigid sniffed. “Is that what we are?”

“Mother isn’t a beggar with no shame, Nana. Not anymore. She sold her earbobs. Now she’s rich,” Eoin said happily.

Brigid pushed back her chair and stood abruptly. “Come, Eoin. It’s time for a bath and bed. Say good night to the doctor.”

Eoin began to protest, though his plate was empty and had been for some time. “I want Mother to tell me about the hound of Culann,” he wheedled.

“Not tonight, Eoin,” Thomas said. “It’s been a long day. Go with your nana.”

“Good night, Doc,” Eoin said sadly. “Good night, Mother.”

“Good night, Eoin,” Thomas said.

“Good night, sweet boy,” I added, blowing him a kiss. It made him smile, and he kissed his own palm and blew it back to me, as if it was the first time he’d ever done such a thing.

“Eoin,” Brigid demanded.

He followed his grandmother from the room, his shoulders drooping and his head low.

“Go to bed, Anne,” Thomas ordered when the sound of their footsteps faded. “You’re about to fall asleep in your soup. I’ll take care of this.”

I ignored him and stood, stacking the dishes around me. “Brigid’s right. You’ve taken me in. No questions—” I began.

“No questions?” he interrupted wryly. “I’ve asked several, if I recall.”

“No demands,” I adjusted. “And when I’m not terrified, I’m incredibly grateful.”