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Now what do you suppose that was about?

If there was anything Fiona knew about
Caitlin Kelly, whatever was going on, it wasn’t innocent.

***

Declan rode his roan mare to the edge of the
pasture where Gilhooly and Jamison stood talking. He still hadn’t
forgotten it was that bastard Jamison who bashed him with the bat
at the Harvest Festival. As much as Declan was careful to let Mike
and Fi believe he’d put it behind him, the truth was he couldn’t.
And he wouldn’t until he’d had his moment alone with the
bastard.

He slowed his horse as he approached the two
and noticed they both stopped talking immediately.

So that’s the way of it, eh?

“Afternoon, Coop,” Gilhooley said,
pleasantly enough. Declan noticed that Jamison turned, pretending
to look at something of interest in the pasture. “Iain and I were
just discussing the progress that’s been made on the jail in my
absence. I have to say, I thought we’d be further along.”

“Well, up to now we’ve had to do it on the
sly,” Declan reminded him.

“You should know, Coop,” Gilhooley responded
coldly, “that I can’t abide excuses for poor performance. Speaking
of which, there’s the matter of your cousin’s escape happening on
your watch.”

Declan’s eyes flickered to Jamison, now not
bothering to pretend he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Was
Gilhooley going to flay him over that in front of that bastard?

“While it’s clear Donovan did the physical
deed, I have to admit to a lack of confidence for your part in the
crime.”

“My
part? You think I helped Ollie escape?”

“What would
you
think if you were
me? You weren’t keen on performing the execution and he’s your
kinsman.”

“Am I to be tried?” Declan bit the words
out, the fury and loathing he was directing at Jamison was so
palpable, he was surprised the man didn’t physically recoil from
it.

“I don’t think we need to go that far,”
Gilhooley said. “Unless you’ve a mind to confess, we have no
evidence.”

“Not for Mike either,” Declan reminded
him.

“Perhaps not. At least not yet. Along those
lines, I have a way in which you might be able to unblot the old
copybook, Coop. You interested?”

Declan grunted and forced himself not to
look at Jamison. He could see out of the corner of his eye the
lying berk was grinning in anticipation.

“You bring me the evidence to convict
Donovan of the crime and we’ll call it even between you and
me.”

I deserve this,
Declan thought.
He’s
seen me go behind Mike’s back and betray confidences. He naturally
thinks I’m capable of doing this.

“Sure,” Declan said, realizing it was all
over now. Gilhooley had made his choice—probably had made it weeks
ago—and Declan was back to being the head Pikey, whose only
distinction was that he’d had the nerve to marry the camp leader’s
sister. “I’ll get right on it. Am I still camp sheriff?” He hated
to ask it in front of Jamison but he needed to know.

“For now.”

***

Sarah stood on the porch of the Widow
Murray’s and checked off the final basket of produce that was the
widow’s by right of her membership in the community. The old lady
hadn’t picked a strawberry in the whole time she’d lived there, but
the generally accepted feeling was this was her time to have people
do for her.

Siobhan Murray stood next to Sarah. “Make
sure they don’t cheat me, now,” she muttered.

“How can you be cheated when it’s free
food?” Sarah said. She smiled at the young man who was climbing
back up into his pony trap, focused on his next delivery.

“They think because I’m an old lady they can
stint me on the meat,” she grumbled. “They give excuses like the
young ones need it more or some such rot.”

“Those damn
young ones
,” Sarah said,
tossing down the sheet listing the baskets of kale, carrots and
potatoes that were Siobhan’s. “When they collect the wheat and
bring it to the mill, will you get an allotment of flour? Because I
hadn’t heard that you were to get any. Is that a
mistake?”

Siobhan made a rude noise and turned to go
back inside. “My days of making me own feckin bread are over,” she
said. “Let the young ones have all the flour they want. Just bring
me the baked loaves.”

“How old did you say you were?” Sarah
asked.

“I’m not dying anytime soon if that’s what
you’re asking. And what’s it to you? You’ll be gone this time
tomorrow. At least I hope and I pray.” She disappeared into the
cottage.

Sarah sat down on the porch
steps. Later today she’d drag all this produce to the small root
cellar the widow had in the back of the house. It felt somehow
dismissing to have worked so hard on the harvest, only to be left
out of the distribution. She thought ruefully,
if I’m feeling ambivalent about leaving, I can only imagine
how Papin and John must be feeling.

No, correct that. John, at least, wasn’t the
least bit ambivalent about leaving.

“Ahoy, the Widow Woodson!”

Sarah looked up to see Fiona and Declan
approaching from around the last line of huts before the pasture
and the camp’s exterior perimeter. She was surprised to see them,
assuming Brian would have them both busy all day getting his family
moved in.

“Hey, you, two,” she said, standing up.
“Everything okay?”

“Right as rain,” Declan said.

“As long as we’re talking acid rain,” Fiona
added. Sarah saw Declan carried a large picnic basket. “I threw
together a few things and thought you might could use the
company.”

Sarah nodded, “Well, sure. Always.” But this
wasn’t a typical visit—both of them in the middle of the day—and
she’d feel better when she knew what was going on. “Shall I go
fetch the old broad? She’s such a sweetheart and I know she’ll add
so much to any party.”

“Okay, no,” Fiona said. “We are well
acquainted with your roommate and just this time we’ll enjoy only
yourself for lunch. And Mike. And Aideen. If that’s all right.”

Sarah sighed. It hadn’t been two hours since
her throw-down with Aideen and she was in no mood to see
Mike—especially not with Aideen hanging on his arm.

“Must we?”

“We must,” Fiona said, as Declan thumped the
picnic basket down onto the porch. “But as we’ll need a little more
privacy than the good Widow Murray generally allows, Dec and I are
really here more to collect you.”

“Suits me. Just let me drag some of these
baskets into the living room where the old dear won’t trip over
them.”

“Allow me,” Dec said, walking over to the
porch and hefting a big crate of corn to his shoulder. As he
trotted up the stairs to the cottage, Sarah turned to Fiona.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you not wait until we’re all together,
then?”

“Why is Aideen coming?”

“Like it or not, Sarah,
she’s a part of this camp
and
our inner circle.”

“She’s not a part of
my
inner
circle.”

“Be that as it may—”

“She hit me this very
morning,
twice
!
How do I know she’s got control of herself? And don’t say
Mike
will make her
behave because he acted like
I
was the problem!”

Declan came back out to the porch and lifted
two more crates into his arms.

“Now, Sarah,” Fiona said soothingly. “I’ll
be needing you to act like the grown up I know you to be because we
all have bigger problems to deal with and it would help if we’re
not trying to kill each other first.”

“Tell
Aideen
that.”

“I have it from Mike that he’s telling her
exactly that in no uncertain terms so does that make you feel
better?”

It didn’t, actually. In fact Sarah hated the
idea of Mike sitting Aideen down and laying the law down to her.
“Does this mean that Mike’s one-man house arrest of me at the Widow
Murray’s is no longer in effect? Am I allowed to walk as far as the
outhouse if I’m in the mood?”

“Okay, Sarah, I’ll be grateful if you get
all this out of your system before we meet up with them. Which, as
it happens, is sooner rather than later because here they
come.”

Sarah looked over Fiona’s shoulder to see
Mike and Aideen walking toward them. Declan came back out on the
porch and picked up the picnic basket. He trotted down the porch
steps and Fiona hurried after him.

Allowing one scowl to the approaching
couple, Sarah and followed too.

***

Mike led the group to a small clearing just
on the outside of camp. A picnic table would have been preferable,
but because he and Declan wanted privacy over comfort the ladies
would just have to adjust to spreading their cloth out on the hard
ground. He watched Aideen as she plucked the creases out of the
cloth and settled herself on it. He’d already gotten eye contact
with Sarah once and the experience didn’t encourage a second time.
Besides, Aideen didn’t need to see him looking at Sarah.

Fiona unloaded the picnic basket and laid
out cold chicken sandwiches, corn on the cob in congealed butter,
and a plate of fruit and goat cheese. Mike couldn’t help but think
if they had a bottle of good wine—and a few less people—it might be
a nice little afternoon. At the thought, his eyes went again
unbidden to Sarah.

Damn! How much does it take to keep your
thoughts on your own damn woman?

Declan leaned back against a rock and
started peeling an apple with his pocketknife. The fruit was green.
It would be at least two months before the rest of the camp would
be picking apples for pies and fritters, but that didn’t seem to
stop the big gypsy.

“Dec and I have a few things we want to
say,” Fiona said, handing Mike a sandwich. “And we wanted just to
tell our nearest and our dearest first.”

“You’re pregnant,” Mike said, nodding his
thanks for the sandwich.

Fiona looked at him with her mouth open.
“How…how did you know that?”

“It’s true, right?” Mike grinned and held
out his arms as she slipped into them and gave him a tight hug.

“I already knew,” Aideen said, patting Fiona
as she went back to her place on the blanket.

When he looked at Sarah, he saw she was
smiling at Fiona, making it pretty clear she had already known
too.

“Good job, Dec,” he said wryly and lifted
his sandwich up as if in a toast.

“Thanks, Mate.”

“The second bit of news isn’t so great,”
Fiona said passing out the rest of the sandwiches. “But it needs
saying.”

“And
saying
is definitely me wife’s
specialty,” Declan said, his eyes smiling. For the wonderful news
they’d just shared, Mike couldn’t help but think Declan seemed a
little deflated today, which wasn’t at all like him. Declan’s mood
was usually up for no good reason just about all the
time.

“The fact is,” Fiona said, taking a long
breath and looking at Mike. “Dec and I didn’t vote for you in the
election—”

“Aw, you didn’t need to tell ‘im that!”

“It’s not like I didn’t know, Dec,” Mike
said. “Is there mustard?”

“Well, we did because we felt like we wanted
a new community, like, to match our new life together.”

“Sounds like you rehearsed that line,” Sarah
said. She held up her hands when Fiona turned on her. “Hey, I’m
just saying…”

Fiona turned back to Mike, her eyes snapping
with annoyance and guilt. “And we were wrong,” she said. “Gilhooley
was a mistake even without Caitlin as his wife. And I’m sorry,
Mike. We were wrong.”

Mike shrugged. “That’s okay.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Declan said, not looking
at anyone. “It’s fecked. And I hate feeling fecked.”

“Has something happened?” Mike narrowed his
eyes at Declan, then Fiona. He glanced at Sarah to see if she knew
what they were talking about but she looked just as puzzled.

“I’m sheriff for now,” Declan said, “until
Gilhooley can get Jamison into the slot.”

“I’m sorry about that,”
Mike said.
But not surprised.

“Anyway, that’s the row I hoed for myself,”
Declan said. “But I wanted to say there may be some good to come
out of the fact I haven’t been booted just yet.”

Fiona spoke hurriedly. “Dec still has their
ear for now. They want your hide, Mike. Brian as much as told Dec
that.”

“I know,” Mike said. “When they brought me
in for questioning on Ollie’s escape, he said Archie blames me for
Ellen’s death. It’s a toss up which one they go after me for. Ollie
or Ellen.”

“I thought she died from a fall from a
horse,” Sarah said.

“They’re saying somehow Mike must have
orchestrated it,” Declan said. “And that he was Caitlin’s
lover.”

“Jaysus, Joseph and Mary.”

“And Caitlin says she had to flee for her
life when he met you, Sarah because he was going to murder her like
poor Ellen.”

“I see.”

“But at the end of the day, Brian wants you
held responsible for Ollie’s escape.”

“Held responsible, how?”

No one spoke. There wasn’t a single person
sitting on the blanket that didn’t know springing Ollie was a
hanging offense.

“What can we do?” Aideen asked, her voice
frantic and high.

Mike leaned over and took her hand, mindful
Sarah was watching every move he made. “I guess that’s why we’re
here?” He looked at Declan who nodded solemnly.

“Should we try to talk to Caitlin?” Sarah
asked. “Is there any use in that?”

Mike grimaced. “You think she’s going to
listen? She’s in the catbird seat now and everyone she ever wanted
to get back at she’s now in a position to do it.”