The Irish Lover Read Online Free Page B

defense.”
    “Defense against who?”
    “Us.” Michael grinned. “The people of
Glenncailty are a stubborn lot, and we’re not fond of the English,
which brings me to our story.” He motioned to the statue. “It’s
said that the first Lord of Glenncailty was a cruel man. He used
his power and position to rape the people and the land.” Michael’s
eyes were pinched at the corners, his expressive face telling the
story as much as the words. “It’s said that one of the men in the
village went to the castle, as it was called even then, and gave
the lord a gift. The gift was a wolfhound pup, one of the man’s own
prize-winning dogs. The man’s friends were angry with him, thinking
he’d betrayed them by giving the Englishman such a gift. The lord
grew bolder after the gift of the dog, and everyone lived in fear
of him.”
    Mary found that she was hanging on each word,
and when Michael paused she squeezed his arm. “What
happened?”
    “One night many years later the man went to the
castle. He listened to the cries of pain coming from the serving
girl the Englishman was abusing. He whistled and the dog came to
the window. The dog was vicious and he growled at the man outside.
The Englishman came to the window, bold and secure in his power.
The Irishman whistled to the dog, a tune he’d taught him as a pup.
The wolfhound turned on the lord and tore him limb from
limb.”
    “So the dog was a plant, a furry
assassin.”
    “Furry assassin? I quite like that.” Michael
chuckled. “Yes, the dog was sent to the castle to rid the glen of
the hated lord.”
    “And no one knows who the statue
is?”
    “No, though everyone has their
preference.”
    They walked along in silence for a moment and
Mary realized she was snuggled against his side, almost leaning on
him as they walked. She straightened, putting distance between
them. They passed a fish and chip take-away shop, a bakery and a
sewing store with a window full of brightly colored yarn. Next to
that was a solicitor’s office—the solicitor’s name was written on
the window in sedate gold lettering, but the frame of the window
was beautifully carved wood, polished to a high gleam. In each
corner was a fanciful carved creature—griffon, dragon, mermaid and
gargoyle. Above the window was an old wooden sign: “Callahan and
Son Fine Wood Furniture.”
    Mary stepped away from Michael, laying her hand
on the griffin’s head. “This was Grandpa’s shop.”
    Michael looked up. “I’d forgotten that. I
always knew it as the solicitor’s office.”
    “I wish I had my camera. Grandpa would love to
see this.”
    “Should we go in? I’m sure they’d let you have
a look around.”
    Mary stroked the wood carving, imagining her
grandfather’s fingers where hers now were. “Do you think I could
come back later? I want to take pictures and I don’t want to get
all teary before I go to have tea with you mother.”
    Michael’s arm came around her shoulders and a
little thrill went through her at his touch. “You’re allowed to be
sad.”
    Mary bit her lip, pushing back the tears that
threatened. “I know.”
    “Well then, I need a cup of tea; how’s about we
head?”
    Together they made their way to the
car.
     
     
    ~~~~
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    “Mary Callahan, I would have known you even
without the name. Come in, come in, you’re very
welcome.”
    Michael watched as his mother ushered Mary in,
taking her coat and scarf and fussing over her.
    “Are you cold, Mary? Would you find it cold
here? Sure you wouldn’t, Chicago is a cold enough place isn’t
it?”
    Mary opened her mouth several times, but
realized quickly enough that his mother didn’t require a reply.
Michael winked at her when she glanced over her shoulder at him.
Mary relaxed a bit after that, and Michael had to check the urge to
grab her and hug her.
    “Michael, will you show Mary to a seat? Good
lad.”
    “In here.” Michael ushered her through a door
to the front room. Used only