The Celtic Riddle

"Why did she leave you?" I asked. "The way she was going on about Second Chance the day she left, I thought she'd never come back."

"God knows," Ryan replies. "I certainly don't. But she did us a favor."

"I think she didn't like Dublin," Charles replied.

"What's not to like?" Ryan said. "Speaking of which, what do you say? Is it time to head back there, Charles?"

"Regrettably, yes," Charles said, kissing my hand. I looked up to see Rob staring at me again. "Perhaps some other time, though?"

"That would be lovely," I said. "And thank you for helping Alex, and for a very pleasant evening." The two men went outside to a waiting Mercedes and soon pulled away, Ryan at the wheel. Both waved and smiled at me as they left. When I looked around again, Rob was gone.

The mention of Deirdre reminded me that I was to see her the next day. Something very important, she'd said. It was a little irritating, I'd have to say. I'd planned another day of antique hunting to get some more stuff for the store. But I resolved I'd wait for her, nonetheless. Maybe she really would have something interesting to say.

Sometime after midnight, the phone in our room rang. It was Charles, back in Dublin. "I just called to say good night," he said in that lovely Irish lilt of his. "It's late, I know, but I wanted to hear your voice again. I had a wonderful evening, although it was far too short." "I did as well," I replied. Despite the fact that I'd told myself he wasn't my type at all, I found I was pleased that he'd called.

"We'll see each other again. That's one of the benefits of being sued by the Byrne family," he chuckled.

"Till then," I said, hanging up.

"Who was that?" Jennifer said drowsily.

"Charles McCafferty," I replied. "Go back to sleep."

"Dad said you were having dinner with one of those lawyers," she said. "I think he's jealous."

"I'd think he'd be too busy with Maeve to be jealous of me," I said tartly.

"I like you better than Maeve," she said.

"I didn't know this was a contest," I said. "Now go back to sleep!"

The next day, Deirdre didn't show up. After waiting for a couple of hours, I called Second Chance.

"Is Deirdre there?" I asked. It was Sean, I thought, who answered the telephone.

"Who's this?" he asked suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter who this is," I replied. The man irritated me no end. "It's Deirdre I wish to speak to."

"It's that Canadian woman, isn't it?" he demanded. "The friend of that fellow who's taken Rose Cottage from us."

"He's not taking it from you. Your father-in-law left it to him," I said. "Now is Deirdre there or isn't she?"

"No, she's not," he replied.

"Do you know where she is? She was supposed to meet me," I went on. I thought I probably shouldn't have said that. It would set him off and maybe get her in trouble.

"It's her day off. She can do whatever she pleases. I have no idea where she is. Now don't call this place again!" he said, slamming the phone down.

I waited another hour or two, then headed out to an auction. Irritating woman, I thought. Irritating family, too. I wondered what Deirdre might have to tell me that was so important. The father of Breeta's child, perhaps? Interesting, no doubt, but did it matter? And if not that, what?

Chapter Thirteen. A GOD THAT FASHIONS HEROES FOR A LORD

NUADA, now there's a man, both a man and a god. There's the ting with the Tuatha de Da-naan, you know. They were gods in some ways, but they had the struggles of the rest of us, and they could die, too. All of them died in the end, and later all their magic too, when St. Padraig came, cursing the old gods. The three goddesses in one, Banba, Fotla, Eriu, they died, and their kings, too.