be for them.”
“But in having them,” Fin began, “they, with me, become truly another three.”
As that was exactly her thought, Branna let out a pent-up breath. “Yes, another three. I’ve come to believe that. Now each of you must think it through, and decide if you’re willing to give them what is both gift and burden. I can show you how it can be done, how I believe it can be done, without draining any of us, or giving them more than they can hold. If any of us aren’t sure, aren’t willing, then we set it aside. If we are, but they aren’t, again it’s set aside. A gift like this must be given freely and with a full heart, and taken the same.”
“Should any come from me? If there’s willing on all sides,” Fin continued, “should any come from me, as what I have is tainted?”
“I don’t like hearing you say that,” Iona replied.
“This is too large a step not to speak plain truth, deirfiúr bheag.”
“I’ll speak plain truth when I say I asked myself the same while I worked this through my head.” After scanning the table, Branna looked directly at Fin. “Even before we learned you come from Daithi, I had come to believe—again with a full heart—that yes, also from you. They’re yours,” Branna told him, “as they’re ours. And you are of the three. What you have in you isn’t pure, but that—to my mind—makes the light in it all the stronger.”
“I’ll agree to it, if they do. They must be sure they can accept what comes from me.”
“You need to take time to think it through,” Branna said, and Connor snorted, grabbed a biscuit.
“And didn’t I tell you this one thinks too much? Haven’t you taxed your brain on this enough for all of us?” he asked Branna. “Fiddled and figured all the little steps, the ways and means, the pros and cons and the good Christ knows what else? If they’ll take it, it’s theirs.” He looked to Iona.
“Absolutely. I’m not sure how Boyle will react to the idea. He accepts all this—we all know. And he’ll fight and stand with us. But at the core . . .”
“He’s a man with feet planted firm on the ground,” Fin said. “That’s true enough. We can only ask, as Branna’s asked, and leave the rest to him, and to Meara.”
“Well, I can see I wasted time making copious notes for the three of you.”
Connor grinned at his sister. “Too much thinking,” he said, and ate the biscuit.
“When do we ask?” Iona wondered.
“Sooner’s better than later,” Fin decided. “When the day’s work’s done?”
“Then I’m cooking for six.” Branna shoved at her hair.
“Happens I’ve the fat chicken you put on the list for me,” Fin told her. “And the makings for colcannon.”
“As well. Dinner at Fin’s then. I’ll go over and start on that, but I think it best and fair we tell them what we’re thinking before a meal. They’ll need time to . . . digest it all, we’ll say.”
“Let’s say they go for it. When would we try it?”
Branna nodded at Iona, finally picked up her own tea. “Sooner’s better there as well. You know more than the rest of us, there’s a bit of a learning curve.”
• • •
SHE DID THE CHICKEN UP WITH GARLIC AND SAGE AND lemon, put the colcannon together, peeled carrots for baking in butter while the bird roasted. As she’d come up with the scheme, the others had decided she would broach it with Boyle and Meara.
As she worked she considered various ways of putting it all out to them, and finally concluded direct and frank the best possible route. It settled her down, until Meara came in.
“It smells a treat in here. And looks as though you’ve already done the work when I came soon as I could to give you some help with it.”
“No worries.”
“Well, I can set the table at least.”
“Don’t bother with it now.” She didn’t want plates and such cluttering up the table when they talked. “Just keep me company. Sure let’s break into Fin’s vast store of wine.”
“I’m for that. I tell you it’s scraping my nerves raw seeing Cabhan lurking about every time I take a guided through. It must be doing the same with Iona,” she added as she pulled a bottle of white from Fin’s kitchen cooler. “She was nervy today, at least toward the end of it. She and Boyle will be around soon.”
“So he shows