Authors: Catherine Harper
Learning to Love (5 page)
Chapter 2
Although hard to forget him after his last appearance, Shannon looked Sean over with surprise. Throwing herself into her work and refusing to take time off, she tried everything in the last two days to keep Conor's death out of her mind. Now like before, he was bringing her back there again.
“Shannon.”
“Sean.”
“How are you?”
Shannon tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “OK, I suppose, much as I can be.”
“I'm sorry,” Sean said, looking to his feet. “That was stupid. I was looking for the right thing to say all the way over here.”
“It's alright. You're not the only one that's been tip toeing around me,” Shannon nodded to the patrons at the bar. “So how are you?”
“Fine, fine. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Looking to the table, they'd been at before, Shannon led the way. Getting there before him, she watched Sean walk toward her with a strong limp. Waiting for him to make himself comfortable, she compared his appearance to the last time she'd seen him. Getting to America six months before them, it was his letter's home that had spurned the two of them to make the voyage here. Now sitting across from her it looked like those words didn't paint a true picture of his life. Looking a little more than his twenty eight years, his once black hair bore more than a flicker of grey at the temples.
Slapping his knee Sean apologized, “Sorry about that. Must be the weather. It does that sometimes.”
“What happened to you?”
“Laying rail. Well, I should say it tried to lay me,” Sean smiled. “A few lengths of it landed on my leg, my own fault I suppose. Anyway, busted my knee. Doc said I was lucky not to lose it. So I guess I can't grumble.”
“I didn't know, sorry to hear that.”
“Hey, these things happen. What can you do about it?”
Seeing him uncomfortable talking about his condition, she tried to get the conversation back on track.
“So… you said you'd be here for a few days?”
“I'm going home-”
“Really? Why?”
“Well, as you can see, life out west isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Having a dodgy leg kinda puts a limit on what you can do. Plus I'm homesick. Looking at miles upon miles of open prairie might suit some, but I'd swap it for greens fields with stone walls any day.”
Shannon smiled, remembering where they'd grown up. Coming from a small rural village in west Cork, her past life had seemed so quaint and small now.
“It's funny I was just thinking there-” Sean smiled.
“About what?”
“You remember that time, the time that cow walked in in the middle of mass?”
Shannon smiled, remembering back to the scene of it having to be pushed out during Sunday morning mass. “I'll never forget the look on Father Flaherty's face-”
“That was Conor and I that did that”
“Conor? You're kidding me?”
“Well, it was my idea,” he replied with a look of pride on his face. “Although he'll probably have said that it was his.”
“He never said a word, not even after all those years. I remember the throttling Dad gave him, but he always denied it.”
“He was a good guy.”
Shannon nodded her head. “Yes, he was.”
“Speaking of your dad, I got word from him yesterday.”
Hearing her father mentioned, Shannon held her breath and froze.
“He wants you to come home.” Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, Sean flattened it out and slipped it across the table.
Reaching for the telegram Shannon picked it up and careful read the message.
'Sorry to hear about Conor. Bring Shannon home.'
Picturing the man behind the words, she was instantly brought back to the life she'd run from and dropped the telegram with disgust.
“You don't look happy.”
“You know why we ran away, don't you? You know what he was like, domineering, controlling. America's not far enough away from that man.”
“Maybe he's changed, Shannon. People do-”
“Really? So that 'Sorry to hear about Conor,' it's just dripping with sentiment, isn't it? Five words, fives words to sum up his only son's death. You know I bet a part of him is glad that Conor's dead, just to prove that he was right and we were wrong…”
“I think you're being hard on him Shannon.”
Shannon leaned in toward him, “You know the last thing he said to us?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “He said he had no children anymore. Once we stepped on that boat we could forget about any inheritance. As if that could keep us there. As always using money to keep people in line.”
“But that was two years ago, Shannon. A lot's happened since then. Remember he did lose his son. And what about your mother don't you think she'd be happy to see you again?”
“The less said about her the better,” Shannon said and flopped back in her chair. “I'd use the word 'mother' very loosely to sum up that woman.” Looking at his face and seeing him remain silent, she tried to work out what was going on in his head. Then it came to her. Picking up the telegram she waved at him, “That's what all this is about. And here I was thinking you were doing the neighborly thing and checking up on me.” Seeing him shift uncomfortably in his seat, she knew she was right. “He bought you. Half way around the world and he's still using his money to control people.”
“You don't understand.”
Folding her arms across her chest she sat and stared at him. “Try me.”
“He's promised me some land and a few other things to bring you home.”
“So he bought you.”
“Bought is a strong word-”
“It's the only one I'd use here,” Shannon said and watched him reach in his pocket. “What's that?”
Taking out two pieces of small rectangular card he fanned them out for her to see better. “It's two tickets for the next sailing to Ireland. “I'm sorry Shannon, but I'm taking you home.”
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