“Deirdre,” her mother called from her place at the wood stove. “Come help stir the potatoes while I pull out the biscuits. And you, Liam, help your niece and nephew set the table.”
Deirdre knew it was best to heed Bridget Mary Kate Flaherty when she made a request. She glided past Liam, but took the opportunity to punch him in the arm as she passed.
Once the table was set and her mother had asked Liam to pray over the food, all eyes turned to her. “Lass, although I miss ye, there’s a reason I asked Seamus to have you over today.”
Deirdre groaned inwardly as she spooned potatoes onto her children’s plates. “And what reason is that?”
Her mother’s gaze flicked to Jamie. “There are reasons we keep the lines between our family and theirs from crossing each other. Their prodigal son shouldn’t be under your roof.”
Seamus scowled, “He’s trouble through and through. Always has been. He’s here because his father wants him brought to heel.”
Their interference prickled at the back of her neck. “He’s here because his mother sent him a telegram. That his father was on his deathbed. He’s not here because of me.”
“The two of ye were always in each other’s company. Even if there are things he doesn’t know, affection like that never fades. He’s here for you too, and ye’ll not persuade me otherwise.”
“Before he fixed Jamie’s arm, Mister Trenton told us he knew Mam when she was a girl,” Katie volunteered.
Seamus narrowed his gaze. “Your mother told me ‘twas a good samaritan who fixed your brother’s arm.”
“Mr. Trenton was leaving the doctor’s office after he was stitched up, and we met him in the street. He’s the one that carried me home.”
Deirdre gave her son a sharp look. She hadn’t forbade her children from speaking of Cass’s involvement, and she realized that was an error on her part.
“Then he’s already makin’ himself cozy again. I’ll have a word,” Liam said as he glared at his plate of mutton.
“If you so righteously disapproved of him, why did you tell him about the meeting?” Deirdre asked.
“He insisted it was a matter of business.”
Their mother carefully laid her spoon beside her plate. “I’ll not have this family involved in dangerous activities. I saw enough uprisings in the Old Country.”
They were all aware that their father had been part of the Fenians and had died for it. It’s why their mother had bundled what remained of her family into steerage and escaped Dublin.
Deirdre and Seamus exchanged a look across the table.
“This is not a fight for independence from Britain, mam. It’s a fight for the working man.”
Bridget Flaherty’s bark of laughter startled them all. “That’s what all rebellions are, lad. Even if they call it somethin’ else. And they’re all dangerous.”
“What’s a rebellion, and why’s it dangr’ous?” Asked Jamie around a mouthful of potatoes.
Deirdre always underestimated both her children’s curiosity and her family’s penchant for controversy across the supper table.
“ ‘Tis somethin’ ye should stay far away from, lad,” her mother answered before she had the chance.
“Why grandmother?”
“Because it leads to trouble,” Bridget Flaherty muttered with a loaded glance at her children.
Chapter Seven
Cass
When his father issued yet another bedside summons on Sunday evening, Cass was prepared. His satchel was packed and he was moving to the boarding house after the conversation.
He braced himself when his father held out the slate to display the message scrawled there.
You will attend the shareholders meeting in my stead.
