witnessed the priest’s slide—yes, he would call it a slide—into a particularly intractable form of conservatism. “The man’s turning into a zealot,” he said more than once. “He’ll drive people away. “
“Here they are, the sinful girls of Glenmara,” he said. “Is there room for me?”
“Up front,” Oona said. “The rest of you will have to squeeze into the back.”
“I don’t mind walking,” Kate offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” Oona said. “We can make room.”
“It’s all right. I could use the fresh air.”
“Especially after what Father Byrne put you through in there. The nerve of him,” Bernie said.
“Don’t let him worry you, the old fool. Oh, I haven’t had this much fun in years.” Denny rubbed his hands together and chuckled. “Wish Niall had been there. Too bad his daughter invited him on that weekend holiday down the coast. Can’t wait until he gets back tonight.”
“Glad you’re entertained, Da, but Father Byrne could make things difficult for us.” Oona motioned for him to get in the car, clearly eager to drive away from the priest and his sermons. “Glenmara’s a small place.”
“I didn’t mean to cause you trouble,” Kate said. “I had no idea putting lace on a pair of panties could be so controversial.”
“Don’t pay Father Byrne any mind. He’s been looking for a way to impress Rome for years,” Colleen said.
“Like Oona said, he could make things hard for you,” Kate said.
Colleen squared her shoulders. “Let him try.”
Chapter 20
Another Life
Once the women were gone and she’d walked down the lane, away from the church, the tears came, tears of anger and humiliation at what the priest had done. The public nature of the condemnation was more than Kate could bear. She didn’t like feeling so helpless, wished she’d stood up in the church and called him on his hypocrisy. It was easier to think of the right words, the right plan, in retrospect. He’d caught them by surprise—her too—launching a sneak attack in their place of worship, a look of triumph on his face, there, on the altar, putting himself and his judgments above them all.
How dare he?
Oh, but he did.
The question was: What would happen now? To the lace makers? To her? To the lace itself?
Kate had managed to keep her emotions in check until she was alone; she didn’t think the women noticed anything amiss. Well, maybe Bernie did, but she hadn’t said anything, seeming to sense that Kate needed time to herself. It would take her at least twenty minutes to reach Bernie’s house. By then, she’d have herself under control. But for now, her tears smeared the landscape into an impressionist painting, colors and shapes blurring, sobs audible, blocking out all sound except that of her own voice.
She was so distracted, muttering and fuming, that she didn’t notice the van pulling up beside her at first.
“Want a lift?” Sullivan called through the open window as the car idled.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, her throat tight, the tears continuing to fall. She bit her lip and looked away, toward the wide, sloping fields.
He killed the engine, perhaps sensing that something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”
“Father Byrne, he—,” she began, her voice catching as she tried to explain.
He got out of the car and pulled her toward him. “Gave you a dressing-down at mass, did he?”
“Were you there?”
“No, but I could guess. He does that occasionally. Very old-school.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She rested her head against his chest. “He was so angry, so righteous—about the lace, and my being an outsider, and—Oh, I don’t know. I think he hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t—”
“And he went after Bernie for taking me in,” she continued. “And Colleen and Oona—”
“He’ll come around. He can’t condemn everyone. He’ll lose the entire congregation.” He took her by the hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“On Sullivan Deane’s tour of the Glenmara hills, just the thing to take your mind off your troubles.”
“But what about Bernie? I told her I’d be back—”
“We’ll let her know on the way. She’ll understand.”
As Kate changed her clothes at Bernie’s, her hostess insisted on packing them a picnic. Kate heard her talking with Sullivan in the kitchen while she pulled on the boots that had already seen her through so many miles and her fleece jacket and jeans; then she and Sullivan set off on their excursion.
“How do you feel about climbing a mountain?” he asked.
“You know my skills in that regard after seeing me on Greeghan’s Face.”
“I really didn’t notice.