Darkness

It was two weeks before the wedding and it hadn't stopped raining for three days. The weather finally cleared off and Mrs. Branson took the opportunity to go into the village and visit one of the women who was going to show her a new knitting pattern. Tom and Sybil weren't expected until the next day. Colleen didn't have much to do at the cottage. Rory wouldn't be done until at least five. She decided to take Mrs. Lonogan three-dozen eggs. Even with Rory's family arriving the next day they still had more than they could use. Realta was dancing in his paddock after being so long confined. After she dropped off the eggs she would take him to the beach for a run.

Colleen rode Realta down to the village and spotted Mr. Lonogan outside of the hotel. She handed off the eggs and chatted with him for a few minutes before heading to the beach. There were quite a few overnight guests expected for the wedding and the Lonogan's were busy coordinating who would stay where as well as every detail for the big day. Rory had included a note with the invitations to his friends in England telling about the fishing available in the local countryside. A number of them were coming and extending their stays a few more days to take advantage of the local sights. Mrs. Lonogan, Colleen had learned was the town general. She had her minions baking pastries, displaying the gifts that had been arriving in the hotel parlor and preparing the town hall for the reception plus a number of other chores she had thought up.

Colleen gave Realta a good run. She had been working with the horse to try and correct some of his behavior and he had improved slightly. He had stopped trying to steal her basket at every opportunity and trying to chew her hair, but he still couldn't be trusted not to steal any hat that came within reach of his teeth. She kept him on the beach for a good hour before they headed back through the dunes to the cottage.

Rory came out of the cottage with an angry look on his face the minute she came into the yard.

"Where have you been?" he demanded.

"Exercising your horse. What's the matter?" Colleen replied.

"You can't just go riding off. You should have left a note. I have an emergency. I've been looking for you for the last forty-five minutes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"Well, think about it next time," he snapped as he threw the saddle bags he used for his medical supplies onto the back of the saddle buckled the straps and dashed out of the yard. Colleen watched him go across the fields jumping the fences and pushing Realta to top speed until he was out of sight. A tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek.

Rory's work was not something she could contribute to or even understand really. He worked so hard and such long hours she wished there was something she could do to help other than tend the animals and cook and clean. The longer she was here the more she wondered if her mother was right. What business did a milkmaid have marrying a doctor?

Colleen went inside and took a dust cloth through to Rory's office. She had wanted to give it a good going over for sometime. When she looked at the files piled everywhere, she sighed. He was still just as messy as when he was seventeen. She set about dusting the room, washed the windows, polished the furniture and swept and washed the floor. By the time she was done she thought the room looked much better. Mrs. Branson was back and they set about getting the evening meal ready.

Four hours after Rory left he was back and calling Mrs. Branson and Colleen to come outside. When they went out, he had two children on Realta's back with him. A little boy of about five or six was on the saddle in front of Rory and a girl around eight behind the saddle. Rory's face was set and angry as he handed the children down to them.

"Give them something to eat," he said. "The boy is Liam, the girl Sarah. I'll be back once I've attended to some business."

He wheeled the horse around and headed into town. The two children were dressed in rags and looked like they didn't receive regular meals. They stood close together and stared at the women.

"Come inside and we'll get you something to eat," Colleen said softly.

"Is she a witch," the girl asked Mrs. Branson in Irish.

"No, of course not Sarah. Speak English so Colleen can understand you. I'm Mrs. Branson."

"We don't speak English," Sarah replied in Irish. "My Mam says English ladies are witches."

"I'm quite sure Colleen isn't a witch," Mrs. Branson replied in Irish. "Now come in out of the cold."

They got the children into the kitchen. Mrs. Branson let Colleen know the children didn't know any English.

"Perhaps you could get them some bread and butter with jam," Mrs. Branson suggested.

She got the children's coats off and went to the cool room to get them each a glass of milk. Meanwhile, Colleen placed a plate in front of each child with a buttered and jammed slice of bread. They looked at Colleen with large frightened eyes while they devoured the bread. They were still watching her as they drank their milk. Mrs. Branson sent them through to the washroom to wash their hands.

Colleen went to the drawer and got some string, made a large loop and showed the children how to play string games for the next half hour. The children remained silent, but smiled slightly when they managed to make a new shape with the string. Rory arrived back in the yard and tended to his horse before he came in after fifteen minutes or so. He didn't make a move to kiss Colleen on the cheek as he normally would. He pulled out a chair and sat at the table watching the children. Mrs. Branson got up to get him a tea and something to eat. He finally said something to the children in Irish, got up without eating and went into his office.

"Go and talk to him," Mrs. Branson said to Colleen.

Colleen tapped softly on the door before she went in. Rory was sitting at his desk with a file in front of him busily writing notes.

"Rory?" she said.

"What is it?" he replied. "I need to get this done."

"I'm sorry I took Realta without telling you. Are you alright?"

"It wouldn't have made any difference. Next time just leave a note. I'll be alright eventually," he said finishing off what he was writing and placing the file on a pile. He sat back in his chair and held a hand out to Colleen. She crossed the room to put an arm around his shoulders when his arm slid around her. She noticed there was a paper on his desk with Certificate of Death written across the top.

"The children's Gran will be by for them in the morning hopefully. I had to get the local constable to go to locate her. They can't stay with their parents."

"You need to take care of yourself. Have something to eat. You're working too hard."

"If I don't see to these people who will?" he snapped.

"Rory! What's really wrong? You've been grouchy all day. I can't seem to do or say anything right for you today."

"I'm tired. Can't we leave it at that?"

"Fine, but you need to eat. Mrs. Branson made your meal and it's getting cold. When you've had a decent nights sleep and are feeling better we can talk then."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. His face was sullen. She hadn't seen him like this since he was young and first working on the farm.

"That's too bad, because we're going to talk about some things tomorrow." Colleen said. She had dealt with her younger brothers enough times to know how to handle a bad mood. "For now I'm going back to Mrs. MacDiarmid's. The children will be fine with Mrs. Branson. You can come and get me if you need anything before morning."

That night Rory couldn't sleep. The situation he had found himself in that afternoon had brought back memories he didn't know he had. The house he had arrived at reeked of stale smoke. The parents of the young boy he had been called to see to had smelled of whiskey. They hadn't bothered to call for help themselves. A neighbor had seen the man hit his son and the boy fall to the ground. The parents had gotten into a fight and the mother had carried the boy of nine years old into the house. The neighbor had sent for the doctor. By the time Rory arrived it had been too late and the boy had died of what he believed was a hemorrhage on his brain. He had quickly examined the other two children and the partially healed bruises and old scars on their bodies had been enough to convince him they couldn't remain with their parents. He had summoned two of the men from the neighborhood to help him remove the children from the home, brought the children to the house and gone straight to the authorities.

When he closed his eyes he could hear the sounds of his own parents fighting in the kitchen and the voice of Emerald as she pulled him under the bed.

"We'll go here Rory. You can be a prince and I'll be a princess. We'll live in a castle and eat toffees all day," she had said. She had a packet of toffee hidden under the bed and split one with him. They had sucked their candies until the noise from downstairs had subsided.

Later once his sisters had all left home his mother would go on one of her drinking bouts and hit him with a broomstick across his back. Then she would sober up and apologize profusely making all his favorite foods and letting him do whatever he wanted.

It had all come back today when he challenged the people for their children. The beatings, the fights and the last time he had laid eyes on his mother. After two hours of tossing and turning, he got up and headed down the path to the beach. The moon was out and illuminated the beach and waves in a strange blue light.

"Who the hell am I?" he yelled at the waves as they crashed onto the shore.

"You are you," came a reply from behind him.

He turned to see Colleen standing behind him with her coat over her nightdress. She had been worried and unable to sleep. She had seen Rory heading for the beach and followed him down.

"Colleen," he breathed as she walked up to him. She didn't reach out to touch him.

"You're not doing anyone any good working this hard. You need to take time for you. The people here didn't have a doctor for a year and they survived." She stood looking at the waves.

"I have to take care of them."

"Why, because no one ever took care of you? I love you Rory. I want to take care of you, but you have to let me in. I keep thinking why would he need me or even want me and then I see parts of you that remind me of when we were children and I just know you need me as much as I need you."

"Today was difficult."

"Because someone died?" she asked looking up at him and touching his arm.

"No, I've had patients die before. The children's parents are drinkers. It brought back a lot of memories."

"You can't keep pushing yourself like this. When my mother was here I realized she was bitter from all the years of hard work. She never took any time for herself. Would it have mattered if the garden wasn't hoed everyday or the dishes weren't washed right after every meal? Her life has been spent taking care of others to the point where there is nothing left of her."

Rory pulled her close and held Colleen tight against him. "I love you," he said quietly before he kissed her.

"Will you let me help you someway, with your work? Maybe put away your files or something if it would help? I don't know what a doctor's wife is supposed to do."

"Listen to me complain," Rory teased her as he rubbed the side of his nose against hers.

"I already do that," Colleen teased him back. It was cold out as it was the middle of November and she was starting to shiver.

"Cold?"

"Uhuh," she breathed as his lips found hers once again.

"It's only a few more days," Rory growled against her mouth.

"Then the town is going to have to fight me for your attention," Colleen replied with her lips a fraction of an inch from his.

"It will be no contest," Rory pulled back and grabbed her hand. "They'll win every time!" he laughed.

"Oh, I'll get you," Colleen said with a laugh as they started to run back up the trail to the cottage.