tea?"
"We're early for tea," Rogan pointed out. "I've read his books," he said to Brianna. "He has a clever way of plunging the reader into the turmoil."
"I know." She smiled a little. "I fell asleep last night with the light on. He's gone out for a drive, to Ennis and about. He was kind enough to post a letter for me." The easiest way, Brianna thought, was often through the back door. "I found some papers when I was up in the attic yesterday."
"Haven't we been through that business before?" Maggie asked.
"We left a lot of Da's boxes untouched. When Mother was here, it seemed best not to bring it up."
"She'd have done nothing but rant and rave." Maggie scowled into her tea. "You shouldn't have to go through his papers on your own, Brie."
"I don't mind. I've been thinking I might turn the attic into a loft room, for guests."
"More guests." Maggie rolled her eyes. "You're overrun with them now, spring and summer."
"I like having people in the house." It was an old argument, one they would never see through the same eyes. "At any rate, it was past time to go through things. There were some clothes as well, some no more than rags now. But I found this." She rose and went to a small box. She took out the lacy white gown. "It's Granny's work, I'm sure. Da would have saved it for his grandchildren."
"Oh." Everything about Maggie softened. Her eyes, her mouth, her voice. She held out her hands, took the gown into them. "So tiny," she murmured. Even as she stroked the linen, the baby inside her stirred.
"I thought your family might have one put aside as well, Rogan, but-"
"We'll use this. Thank you, Brie." One look at his wife's face had decided him. "Here, Margaret Mary."
Maggie took the handkerchief he offered and wiped her eyes. "The books say it's hormones. I always seem to be spilling over."
"I'll put it back for you." After replacing the gown, Brianna took the next step and offered the stock certificate. "I found this as well. Da must have bought it, or invested, whatever it is, shortly before he died."
A glance at the paper had Maggie sighing. "Another of his moneymaking schemes." She was nearly as sentimental over the stock certificate as she'd been over the baby gown. "How like him. So he thought he'd go into mining, did he?"
"Well, he'd tried everything else." Rogan frowned over the certificate. "Would you like me to look into this company, see what's what?"
"I've written to them. Mr. Thane's posting the letter for me. It'll come to nothing, I imagine." None of Tom Concannon's schemes ever had. "But you might keep the paper for me until I hear back." "It's ten thousand shares," Rogan pointed out. Maggie and Brianna smiled at each other. "And if it's worth more than the paper it's printed on, he'll have broken his record." Maggie shrugged and treated herself to a cake. "He was always after investing in something, or starting a new business. It was his dreams that were big, Rogan, and his heart."
Brianna's smile dimmed. "I found something else. Something I need to show you. Letters." "He was famous for writing them." "No," Brianna interrupted before Maggie could launch into one of her stories. Do it now, she ordered herself when her heart shied back. Do it quickly. "These were written to him. There are three of them, and I think it's best if you read them for yourself."
Maggie could see Brianna's eyes had gone cool and remote. A defense, she knew, against anything from temper to heartache. "All right, Brie."
Saying nothing, Brianna picked up the letters, put them in Maggie's hand.
Maggie had only to look at the return address on the first envelope for her heartbeat to thicken. She opened the letter.
Brianna heard the quick sound of distress. The fingers she'd locked together twisted. She saw Maggie reach out, grip Rogan's hand. A change, Brianna thought with a little sigh. Even a year before Maggie would have slapped any comforting hand aside.
"Amanda." There were tears in Maggie's
R. C. Farrington, Jason Farrington