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"Gabriel, why are you so interested in the Scarcliff's?"
It was on his lips to tell her. His interest wasn't in the Scarcliffs, but he just wasn't ready yet so he gave only a half truth, "Nicholas is a really good friend."
If she questioned his answer, she didn't let on and replied, "Ireland, I'm ready whenever you are."
Quinn found Ireland exquisite: from its windswept coasts and sweeping hills of green to its majestic cliffs, but what she found even more incredible was the feeling of magic in the air. The sense that all the legends and lore of this land were not fairy tales but real.
The village where the O'Cuinn family lived was in County Wicklow and it was some of the most beautiful country Quinn had ever seen. The village of EnnisKerry was quaint and charming and the O'Cuinn's lived just outside the village in a small thatched cottage surrounded by grazing sheep and cows, fields of heather, and stone walls that broke up the lush green landscape into patterned sections.
Gabriel reached for Quinn's hand as they started down the long gravel drive that led to the cottage. "They were very excited about the prospect of meeting you."
Quinn looked up and knew her confusion was clearly seen on her face. "Why?"
"You'll see," he teased.
He pulled her along and when they reached the door he didn't hesitate to knock. When the door opened, two things struck Quinn at once: first, the man that opened the door looked so much like her own father it caused her to draw in a startled breath; and, second, this man looking at her had the exact same reaction to seeing her.
"Blessed Danu," he whispered as he stepped forward and pulled Quinn into a warm hug. She felt his warm tears on her cheek.
"Wait until Colleen sees you!" He said excitedly as he pulled her into the house and down the hall. When she looked behind her, Gabriel was following after them with a knowing grin on his handsome face.
"Colleen, Quinn has arrived."
At that announcement, a woman appeared from the kitchen wearing an old house dress with a yellow apron over it. Her skin was wrinkled, her gray hair pulled up into a bun, and her turquoise eyes were both kind and vaguely familiar. Colleen walked forward and took Quinn's hands into her own.
"Welcome," she said in a heavy Irish brogue. And that was precisely how Quinn felt: welcome.
They settled around a small, scarred wooden table in the kitchen as Colleen busied herself serving tea and scones. The man, Gulliver, disappeared for a few minutes then returned with a box filled with photos and journals. He pulled a small portrait from an acid-free folder and slid it over the table to Quinn. She inhaled sharply.
"I look just like her," she said in stunned awe.
"Aye. That is Morgan O'Cuinn. O'Cuinn is the Gaelic pronunciation of Quinn."
Quinn's head snapped up but her words came out in barely over a whisper, "My name's Quinn Morgan."
"I know," the old man said as he pulled another portrait from the folder. Quinn had no problem identifying the man standing with Morgan.
"Archer," she said with sadness and longing.
"Aye," the old man looked over at Gabriel. "'Tisn't a coincidence that you are both here now."
Quinn looked over at Gabriel and here, in this cottage, he looked more like Archer than he ever had. And in that moment, she was stricken with the feeling of loss.
She forced herself back to the here-and-now and asked Colleen, "Can you tell me what happened to Morgan?"
Colleen pulled a journal from the box and handed it to Quinn. "Aye. But you should have this. It was hers."
Quinn attempted to refuse the journal by sliding it back towards Colleen. "No, I couldn't," she said.
"Please. It was meant for you, it's rightfully yours," was Colleen's response leaving Quinn confused but she knew the discussion was over.
"Morgan met Archer when she was 19 and it was love at first sight for both of them. Her family had moved into the village near where a large estate was being built with the hopes that the father would find work there. He did, of course, since building a place the size of Whispering Winds took lots of man power."
Quinn remembered watching the impressive building techniques that were all done by hand. Techniques that were at times fatal as she recalled the horrible death of that young man.
"Morgan would come almost daily with her father's lunches and it was on one such trip that she stopped along the river's edge to admire the castle and surrounding countryside. That was the first time Archer saw her, standing on the river's edge gazing up at what would one day be his home. And that was all it took."
"They had an unspoken agreement to meet every day at the river's edge, at first to walk and talk and then later to share picnics. He asked her to marry him in the exact spot along the river where he saw her that very first time."
