Songs of the Shenandoah Read Free Page B

eye had swollen even more in the past hour, and it was darkening.
    Clare had almost forgot about his fight earlier in the day with the boys at the park. “Oh, that looks dreadful, son.” She put her hand on his cheek. “If only you had the sense to ignore them and just walk away.”
    â€œYou know I won’t allow them to speak of you and Da so unkindly.”
    â€œWhat did they say to you?” Caitlin asked. “I hadn’t heard.”
    Garret looked to Clare for permission to answer, which she grudgingly provided with a nod.
    â€œThey don’t like Ma’s writing in the newspaper.” He turned to face the window, his freckled cheeks reflecting in the glass. “They say she hates her own people and wishes she was a Negro slave.”
    â€œWho said these horrible words?” Her eyes wide, Caitlin looked to Clare. “You should have told those . . . dreadful whelps . . . that your dear mother has been the greatest gift to the Irish this city has ever laid eyes on. No one has done more for her people than—Oh my, who is that precious little girl playing in the snow?”
    Clare peered outside and her entire body tensed. She tapped her knuckles on the window. “Ella Royce! You come in here immediately.”
    Garret looked back with his mouth agape. “Ma, you’re going to scare away the carolers.”
    In a few moments the front door snapped open and Clare’s daughter entered the dining room with guilty and moist steps, her brown hair flecked with snow and her face ruby red from the cold. Ella was wearing only a blue cotton dress, and she had a latticed apron folded up to hold some concealed items that appeared precious to her.
    Clare propped her palms on her waist. “What a sight is this! Your clothes are all but ruined and you most assuredly have caught a chill. And what . . . what are you hiding there?”
    The child shook her head and appealed to her aunt Cait with sappy brown eyes for some sort of support, which, as always, she was all too willing to provide.
    Caitlin bent over and carefully opened the girl’s apron and peeked in. “Well if those aren’t the most well-formed snowballs I’ve ever seen. May I?” When Ella nodded, Caitlin pulled out one of the white frozen orbs and held it up with reverence as if it were hand chipped from marble.
    â€œDo you know the effort we’ve gone to get this house and you decorated in the spirit of Christmas?” Clare glared at her sister who had her hands to her lips, her mouth threatening to open in laughter. “And you are villain as well for your encouragement.” Clare turned to her daughter. “Now what madness would cause you to go out in the storm . . . dressed as such, and bring those . . . snowballs into this home, young lady?”
    Ella bit her lip and glanced over to her brother and then Caitlin. “I fetched them for Garret. It will make his eye feel better.”
    The words pierced Clare’s matronly scowl, and she rubbed her hand on her face. Then she bent down with a deep breath of apology and kissed Ella on her head. “And that, my kind heart, is why we named you after your grandmama.”
    She glanced back out the window to see if the carolers remained, but they had moved on and the snow now drifted down in heavy flakes with the flutter of butterflies. “Oh dear, I hope it will be safe to travel. To come all of the way from California, thousands of miles, only to perish in the streets of New York City on their way from the harbor.”
    â€œSeamus, the mountain man turned pastor, and young Davin the famed gold miner?” Caitlin exchanged a look with Clare and they both laughed. “How could they stray? One finds lost souls and the other lost treasures.”
    â€œWe certainly could use strengthening of both our faith and fortunes.” Clare glanced at the clock on the wall. “Andrew, Andrew, my dear husband, why are you taking