Mulligan Stew (31 page)

"Riley followed Da inside." Maggie's lower lip trembled. "He was only ten."

Bridget's stomach heaved and she drew a deep breath to quell the rising nausea. Another sip of pop steadied her. "I'm listening."

"Poor little lad." Maggie sniffled and blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He... he found Da in the center of the main chamber. Dead."

Bridget squeezed her eyes shut for several seconds and drew a shaky breath. "What happened then?"

"Riley pulled our big, strong da's body out of the castle, which had been empty for a hundred years by then."

A chill swept through Bridget. No wonder Riley believed the curse was real. "How did your daddy die, Maggie?"

She shook her head, a mournful expression in her blue eyes. "No one knows. The doctor said he was fit as could be, and there was no reason for such a healthy man to just drop dead. The curse was the only explanation."

Bridget had heard stories of allegedly healthy individuals dying suddenly from heart attacks or strokes. "So Riley pulled his da out of the castle alone?"

"Aye, all by himself."

"Then what happened?"

"From what Mum has said, Riley took it upon himself to become the man of the family. He vowed to run the farm for Da." She sniffled and dabbed her eyes. "The next crop was a bountiful one. With Riley working like two grown men, and the help of good friends and neighbors, all was well by the next harvest."

"But Riley will never forget," Bridget whispered, understanding why he hated the castle so desperately. "I still don't believe there's anything evil about
Caisleán Dubh
, Maggie. But..."

"But what?"

Bridget looked out the window at the tower, dominating the horizon. "There is something powerful there."

"You felt it?"

"Yes." Her cheeks warmed again. "The castle seems to..." Dare she tell Maggie that the castle spoke to her? It sounded so crazy. Mad.

"What is it, Bridget?" Maggie scooted closer. "Something is wrong. I can tell."

"Do you ever hear any... sounds from the castle, Maggie?" she asked.

"No, but Culley said it whispered to him every time he went near it."

And sometimes from clear across the dang meadow.

"I wonder why," Bridget said, deciding to keep her secrets to herself for now. "Was it calling to him for some reason?"

And me?

"Aye, he said it did." Maggie appeared thoughtful. "He never talked about it much, except to say it wasn't scary." A visible shudder rippled through Maggie. "Well, it terrifies me enough sometimes to wet me knickers."

But not me.

Bridget gave Maggie's hand another squeeze. "Thank you for telling me. I think I'll be able to understand Riley a mite better now."

"I'm glad of it," Maggie said on a sigh. "It's time you two stopped bickering like a couple of roosters."

Bridget almost smiled, for she knew beyond any doubt that Riley didn't think of her as a rooster. A hen, perhaps. Well, the thought was still unflattering.

"I have one more question, if you don't mind." Bridget waited for Maggie to meet her gaze. "What does
bronagh
mean?" She'd deliberately asked the question as if she believed the word was
not
a name, though nothing could be further from the truth.

"Oh, like the village?"

"Well, yes. I guess the village was named Ballybronagh for a reason." Bridget held her breath, waiting.

"Bronagh means sorrow," Maggie explained. "No one knows for certain, but the locals believe the village was named by Aidan Mulligan after the tragedy, since his life was filled with sorrow."

"Tragedy? And who was Aidan Mulligan?"

"Aidan lived long ago when
Caisleán Dubh
was brand new. His da built it. 'Twas Aidan's tragedy that brought the curse." Maggie patted Bridget's hand. "Mum is probably the one to tell the whole story when you're ready."

"So... Bronagh isn't a woman's name?"

"Oh, aye, it can be, but who would want to be named 'Sorrow?'"

Who, indeed? Bridget still believed that Riley and her dream lover had used the word as a name. She shook herself and vowed to find the perfect moment to ask Fiona to tell her the whole story.

Rising, she placed her hands on her hips and said, "Let's cook something guaranteed to make even the grouchiest man smile."

Maggie put her arms around Bridget and laughed. "I'm so glad you and Jacob came home to us, Bridget."

Bridget's throat tightened and a scalding hot tear crept from the corner of one eye as she focused on the view through the window. "Home," she whispered.

To
Caisleán Dubh
.

Chapter 15

Saturday morning, Sean Collins rang up Riley to cancel their session in Shannon. A week ago Riley had looked forward to the opportunity to find some casual female companionship for an evening. As he hung up the phone in the kitchen, he realized that now he was relieved the opportunity wouldn't present itself.

Oh, he still had the hunger, but what he wanted wouldn't be at all casual, because he craved his brother's wife. Of course, a week ago he hadn't known about Katie's bloody notion about soul-mates.

Maggie burst through the back door with the mail she'd gone to Ballybronagh to fetch. "Where's Mum?" she asked, out of breath.

"Fetching spuds." Riley narrowed his gaze as his sister went through the door to the cellar, calling for her. A few moments later, they returned together.

"Where's Bridget?" Mum asked as she tore open an envelope. "She'll be wantin' to hear this."

"I'll get her." Maggie bounded up the back staircase.

Pity she was too short to knock her noggin on that low beam. Ah, but he didn't mean that, though it did seem unfair that he should be the only Mulligan tall enough to—

Jacob skipped into the room. The lad was tall. Not that Riley would wish the child harm... but maybe there would be some justice, all the same. Family traditions and all...

Riley smiled as he caught Jacob in a headlock while tickling him mercilessly. He'd grown fond of the lad in a short time, and he wanted him to stay and grow up here on the farm. Long enough to bump his head. Long enough to have his sons bump theirs. It was right to have them here.

Both of them?

Riley stopped tickling, but didn't release the lad. Jacob seized the opportunity to jab his uncle in the ribs. "Ow!"

"Stop this nonsense and pay attention now," Mum said as Bridget hurried into the room behind Maggie. She held the letter up in front of them. "'Tis from the Irish Trust."

Riley reached for the envelope, but Mum gently slapped his hand away. "'Tis addressed to me, boyo."

Clenching his teeth, Riley folded his arms and waited while Mum opened the envelope.

"Well, I'll be," she said, looking around the room. "The inspector says he'll have a team out here on Wednesday."

So soon
. Riley released the breath he'd been holding and dared a glance at Bridget. She looked nervous but happy. Maybe hopeful was the proper description.

And beautiful.

Her unpainted face glowed with health as she hugged her son, who looked up at her adoringly. Nagging doubts had plagued Riley for days, and now they grew ten-fold.

Was Bridget really the deceitful seductress he'd accused her of being? His entire sense of logic and justice tilted and he felt off-balance.

The time for the research he'd promised was now. He could wait no longer. Before the inspectors arrived, he would have the information he needed.

He couldn't drag his gaze from Bridget for several moments. The way her silky hair waved about her shoulders made him ache to run his fingers through it. Her lips were moist and inviting. Her breasts filled out her jumper in a way that made his blood heat and thicken with need. Bridget bent down to feel the toes of Jacob's shoes, her jeans pulling tight against her nice bum.

Lust whipped through him like bees buzzing around a hive. He arched an eyebrow as he stared at her appreciatively. Aye, bees were drawn to sweets....

Remembering he wasn't alone, Riley forced himself to look away as Maggie joined Bridget in examining and discussing the fit of Jacob's shoes. At least his sister hadn't noticed Riley practically making love to Bridget with his eyes. He'd never have heard the end of that bit of funning.

"Well, I'll be," Mum whispered under her breath.

Riley met her knowing gaze and his stomach gave a lurch.
Jaysus.
Having Maggie see his secret would've been better than Mum. He sighed and she arched her eyebrows at him.

One thing about Mum, though—she would keep his secret.

Question was, could
he
? Obviously not, since he'd just allowed his mum to see his naked desire for Bridget.

"I'm going into Ballybronagh," he announced, needing some air and definitely some privacy. Avoiding Mum's gaze, he grabbed his cap and waved to them all as he slipped out the door.

Jacob's voice sounded as the door closed behind him. Riley walked at a brisk pace, riddled with guilt about his nephew. The lad would have loved to go into the village with him, but not today. Riley had to speak with Brady alone.

The bloody inspector would be here on Wednesday. Riley strolled past
Caisleán Dubh
. The whispering and sighing of the thing swept over him, but he refused to offer the castle so much as a glance this day.

Caisleán Dubh
had caused enough trouble, and would cause more before this nightmare ended. If it ever did.

The Reardens lived in a small stone cottage on the edge of town. Riley looked around the tidy yard and spied old Brady sitting in the shade, poring over a lapful of books. The gate squeaked as Riley pushed it open, alerting Brady of his presence.

"Top o' the mornin' to you, Riley Mulligan," his old teacher said. "Pull yourself up a chair and have a visit with an old man."

Riley looked around anxiously, relieved to notice that Katie's car wasn't here. "Are you alone today?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as eager as he felt.

"Aye, they all ran off to some festival in Galway."

Thank the blessed Virgin.
Riley mentally crossed himself and relaxed. "And what are you so busy with this fine day?" he asked, determined to lead into his topic as casually as possible.

"Sit, sit." Brady patted the book in his lap. "These are church records that Father O'Malley let me bring home. He trusts me, the old fool."

Brady grinned as Riley pulled his chair closer and peered down at the faded scrawl on yellowed parchment. "How can you even
see
it, let alone understand it?"

"'Tis hard, lad." Brady leaned back and adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Sometimes I have to use a magnifyin' lens."

Riley nodded. "What is the subject you're studying so hard?" His heart fluttered, then raced forward.

"
Caisleán Dubh
." Brady's eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. "Didn't Fiona tell you me plans?"

No, but Katie did.
"About your book? You mentioned that at mass."

"Aye, so I did." Brady pointed to a passage near the top of the page. "Here's a bit I missed the first time. 'Tis fascinatin'."

Aye, fascinating.
Riley swallowed hard. "What did you find?"

"All these centuries, the villagers have assumed that Ballybronagh was named for the sorrow Aidan felt after his beloved's tragic death."

"Aye." Riley studied his old teacher's expression very carefully. "Wasn't it?"

"See, this is the fascinatin' part." Brady nodded, a grand look of satisfaction on his face. "Even the Mulligans didn't realize how the village was named."

How long would it take to get Riley the information he needed? Of course, if Riley
knew
what he needed, it would be much simpler. "How was it named?"
One wee step at a time.

"'Twas her name, lad."

Riley shook his head. "Whose name?"