Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (9 page)

It took more than a month for Darcy to completely recover, and she and Teila spent hours together speaking of many things. Teila saw the profound change come over her friend, and although Darcy had always been unique, she now spoke in what seemed like a foreign language. Although the two women were different, they loved each other like sisters. Teila knew that ever since she was a child, Darcy stood apart from everyone else.

On countless occasions she witnessed Darcy staring out to the sea, as if she were bewitched, or during a conversation, Darcy's eyes would drift out the window as if some secret lover was beckoning. All of this saddened Teila. She knew that she would never truly know her best friend.

 
Darcy's strength grew quickly, and her wounds healed. Her complexion returned to its smooth texture, and except for a small scar above her left eyebrow, the effects of the beating were no longer apparent. She worked hard in the cottage and out in the pastures, eating heartily, returning her figure to its appealing curves.

Teila was filling out as well, entering the final months of her pregnancy, and she needed Darcy's help more than ever. One summer evening after a meal of potato leek soup, there was a sharp knock at the door. It was Father Etienne standing in the bright sunshine.

"What are you doing," Darcy scolded, pulling him inside. "Someone will see you."

Darcy’s eyes narrowed, as he said to Teila, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Mullin. The good woman who was to attend to my supper tonight forgot about me. Might I find a bite to eat with you this evening?"

"But, of course! You are welcome here anytime," she said. "Darcy, take Father Etienne to the fire for a brandy while I get his supper."

Darcy ushered Father Etienne to a chair and after handing him a drink, took a seat beside him. She knew something was wrong as she watched him raise the mug to his lips, his movements wooden.

He said nothing, staring into the fire.

"Do you have a busy evening ahead?” Darcy asked.

He made no reply. She saw dark circles under his eyes as he emptied his mug without stopping.

"Twas a grand day today, wasn't it, Father?" said Teila handing him a bowl of soup.

"Indeed it was, Mrs. Mullin," he returned flatly.

Darcy saw tears began to roll down his face. Startled, she told Teila that they were going out to enjoy the summer evening, and Darcy directed him behind the cottage where she pulled him down on a stone bench.

The evening was fair, and the setting sun cast a golden hue on them. Darcy touched Father Etienne's arm. He closed his eyes took a deep breath and said, "The ship brought a letter last night. My mother was massacred in an Abenaki raid."

Darcy gasped and clutched her bodice.

"My brother would give no details, but every time I try to sleep, Darcy, I see her running. She's terrified, and at last they catch her, and I see her struggling." He looked at Darcy. "Did they take her long, beautiful hair? Did they rip it savagely from her head while she still lived?"

"Oh, you can't, Etienne!" gasped Darcy, unaware that she had dropped his title. "Don't do this! You can't know what happened. It is between God and your mother."

He sat with his head in his hands for along time. At last, he rubbed his brow and said, "If only I could get some sleep, I think I could open myself to the comfort of the Holy Spirit, but it seems now when I need it the most, I cannot feel the light."

"Come," said Darcy. "We shall walk the cliffs tonight, and I promise you will sleep,"

"No, I cannot, Darcy," he said, shaking his head. "I must make my rounds."

"Do you have anyone in particular expecting you?"

"No, but--"

"Then no one will miss you," said Darcy taking charge. She disappeared into the house giving a hasty explanation to Teila who handed Darcy a basket of buns, saying tenderly, "Give this to the poor darlin'."

The full moon flooded the coastline with a pale light which guided their footsteps along the steep bluffs. They walked in silence for an hour, and at last Darcy said breathlessly, "Please, I must rest for a short while."

Father Etienne said with a start, "Oh, Darcy, you are still recovering. I have been so self-absorbed that I didn't think of your fatigue."

Darcy shook her head. "Being up here is the best medicine in the world for me. You, of all people, should know that. The air is so much sweeter here, and it makes me strong."
 

They sat on the rocks, watching the moonbeams glisten on the breaking water. Father Etienne looked out to sea and said, "This reminds me of my mother's favorite poem."

"What is it?" asked Darcy, as she hugged her knees.

He paused a moment, sorting through the words and said, "There, now I have it." He closed his eyes and began,

 
'To see a World in a Grain of Sand

 
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

 
And Eternity in an hour.’, “

He smiled wistfully. "How she loved that little piece. I don't know how I ever remembered it. It was like she was here whispering it in my ear."

After a while he said, "I never realized it until now, but I didn't lose my mother three months ago to a raiding party. I lost my mother the day I left for
Europe
. I knew in my heart I would never see her again, and now with no ocean to part us, she is closer to me than ever."

Father Etienne rose to his feet, and pulled Darcy up. "Let's go home,” he said. “I know that I can sleep now."

“I am glad,” she replied.

At the descent to the cave, he took Darcy's hand and said, "One day I will leave Kilkerry and have to find my way alone. As much as that saddens me, I know that I will carry you in my heart for all eternity."

*
    
*
     
*

It was Michael O’Hearn’s wedding day. Darcy rose before the sun, crawling out of the loft where she slept with the children and walked up to Glinnish Stream. Father Etienne had at last convinced her to bathe regularly. After scrubbing her body and scalp until it tingled, she stepped lightly out of the water and dried herself. Looking up, she could see the day was going to be mild and cloudless.

For over a week, Darcy had been collecting petals from the roses which grew wild in the meadow, and she rubbed them onto her skin, capturing their scent. After scrubbing her teeth with a small frayed sapling branch, she combed through her long, dark hair and caught up only the tresses around her face, leaving the rest to tumble down loosely over her shoulders. Darcy slipped a red gown over her head, and although it fit tightly over her round breasts, it fell all the way to her ankles and molded to her figure gracefully. The gown had been her mother's best dress, and she ran her hands over the fabric lovingly. To complete her ensemble, she put on her only pair of shoes, soft black slippers which had also belonged to her mother.

Darcy gathered her things and returned to the Mullin cottage. Teila would need plenty of help cooking and getting the children ready before the wedding. There was an air of excitement when Darcy walked through the door, and she could see everyone busy with preparations. Teila was frantically packing food in tin pails while Keenan struggled with his buttons in front of the mirror. "I can't do this!" he burst out, still holding his pipe between his teeth.

Two of the children wrestled on the floor while Brianna, the toddler, was climbing onto the cupboard looking for food. It was chaos, but it was good-natured excitement. It had been a long time since Kilkerry had anything to celebrate, and a wedding on a sunny afternoon made spirits high.

Keenan bellowed, "Why, Darcy McBride! You're a sight for sore eyes. I'm betting that you'll be married yourself before the day is over."

 
Teila looked up, and said, "You look beautiful today, Darcy. It seems like only yesterday your mother was wearing that dress."

Keenan grabbed Teila around the waist and roared, "Speaking of beauties, just look at me bride!"

He gave Teila a squeeze, and she snapped a towel at him laughing, "Settle down, you old fool. That sort of attitude is why I'm the size of a cow today!"

Teila was dressed in a soft yellow gown, which draped loosely over her generous belly, and her light hair was gathered into a knot at the back of her head with a green ribbon.

Darcy opened a basket and double-checked the number of bowls. Everyone attending the wedding was expected to provide their own eating utensils as well as food to share. There was no one wealthy enough in these parts to provide a feast for an entire village, so it was expected that everyone bring enough food to feed the number of family members they brought to the celebration.

Darcy packed several stews, puddings and breads into baskets, as Teila finished dressing the last child. In a flurry they set out for the wedding on the village green. The ceremony would be performed at the O'Hearn family cottage by Father Etienne then the feasting and celebration would begin.

Those who were aware of the priest's presence in Kilkerry knew of this arrangement, but those who could not be trusted were told the bride and groom had taken their vows earlier in the week by an existing priest in Granager.

The green was alive with activity when they arrived. Tables were being arranged and carts were beginning to pull up, filled with excited guests. Everyone commented on the beautiful sunshine, and spirits were running high.

The interior of the O'Hearn home resembled most cottages, but today it had a look of celebration. It had been recently scrubbed and whitewashed, and it sparkled with the nervous excitement of its inhabitants. Michael and Bridget stood by the fireplace, anxiously watching Father Etienne place an altar cloth over the kitchen table. He winked at them to put them at ease.

Michael was dressed in a newly woven white smock with dark breeches. Everyone marveled at his black boots, which he had borrowed from Casey Mulligan. Many a bridegroom in Kilkerry had borrowed these boots from Casey, but they still inspired awe when they were worn publicly.

Bridget stood quietly by Michael, looking down at the dirt floor of the cottage. She was painfully shy, and all this attention was unbearable for her. She longed to be home alone with Michael away from all the prying eyes. Bridget was a tall big-boned girl with broad hips and a freckled face. Her brown hair was tucked neatly under a white mob cap lined with the fine lace she had woven by candlelight. Michael linked arms with her, patted her hand and nodded to Father Etienne that they were ready.

Outside on the green, pony carts continued to pull up, unloading guests, eager to spend the warm, sunny day dining and dancing. Women scurried about, carrying pots filled with their best suppers, and tables were moved out into the open air to hold food. They were arranged in long lines with homespun tablecloths which snapped in the breeze. The men gathered in groups around the square, starting on the stout and the brandy earlier than usual, ribbing each other about who would win the races and games. Their voices would occasionally grow louder and frequently end in hearty laughter as the children ran back and forth across the green, turning somersaults and playing tag.

The green was filled with guests when the bride and groom stepped out of the cottage into the sunshine. The crowd let out a hearty cheer. A group of fiddlers struck up a jig as guests swarmed the couple offering best wishes and congratulations.

Long lines formed to consume the stews, puddings and mutton pies which graced the tables. Potatoes and cabbages, ordinarily so mundane, had been dressed in special ways for today's festivities. Everyone donated their best recipes, and the aromas were delectable.