Suddenly Shannon wanted to stand, to tell her mother it was time to stop, to rest, to do anything but continue. Her hands had curled themselves into fists without her being aware. There was a larger, tighter one lodged in her stomach.

“He wasn’t young,” Amanda said softly. “But he was handsome. There was something so sad, so lost in his eyes. He smiled and said good morning, and what a fine day it was as the rain beat on our head and the wind slapped our faces. I laughed, for somehow it was a fine day. And though I’d grown used to the music of the brogue of western Ireland, his voice was so charming, I knew I could go on listening to it for hours. So we stood there and talked, about my travels, about America. He was a farmer, he said. A bad one, and he was sorry for that as he had two baby daughters to provide for. But there was no sadness in his face when he spoke of them. It lit. His Maggie Mae and Brie, he called them. And about his wife, he said little.

“The sun came out,” Amanda said with a sigh. “It came out slow and lovely as we stood there, sort of slipping through the clouds in little streams of gold. We walked along the narrow paths, talking, as if we’d known each other all our lives. And I fell in love with him on the high, thundering cliffs. It should have frightened me.” She glanced at Shannon, tentatively reached out a hand. “It did shame me, for he was a married man with children. But I thought it was only me who felt it, and how much sin can there be in the soul of an old maid dazzled by a handsome man in one morning?”

It was with relief she felt her daughter’s fingers twine with hers. “But it wasn’t only me who’d felt it. We saw each other again, oh, innocently enough. At a pub, back on the cliffs, and once he took both me and Kate to a little fair outside of Ennis. It couldn’t stay innocent. We weren’t children, either of us, and what we felt for each other was so huge, so important, and you must believe me, so right. Kate knew—anyone who looked at us could have seen it—and she talked to me as a friend would. But I loved him, and I’d never been so happy as when he was with me. Never once did he make promises. Dreams we had, but there were no promises between us. He was bound to his wife who had no love for him, and to the children he adored.”

She moistened her dry lips, took another sip from the straw when Shannon wordlessly offered the glass. Amanda paused again, for it would be harder now.

“I knew what I was doing, Shannon, indeed it was more my doing than his when we became lovers. He was the first man to touch me, and when he did, at last, it was with such gentleness, such care, such love, that we wept together afterward. For we knew we’d found each other too late, and it was hopeless.