She felt nearly giddy, sitting there. Cousins, boss, coworker—and ordering, at Connor’s suggestion, the beef and barley stew.
As her first working day in Ireland, it couldn’t get better.
And then it did.
Connor slid away from the table. He came back a few moments later with a violin.
“Connor,” Branna began.
“I’m buying, so the least you can do is play for your supper.”
“You play the violin?”
Branna glanced at Iona, gave a shrug much like her brother’s. “When the mood comes.”
“I always wanted to play something, but I’m hopeless. Please, won’t you?”
“How can you say no?” Connor handed his sister the violin and bow. “Give us a song, Meara darling. Something cheerful to match the mood.”
“You didn’t pay for my supper.”
He sent her a wink, both cheeky and wicked. “There’s always a sweet to come, if you’ve the appetite.”
“One.” Branna tested the bow. He’d rosined it, she noted, confident he’d coax her into it. “You know he won’t leave off till we do.”
She angled her chair, tested again, tweaked the tuning. Voices around them quieted as Branna smiled, tapped her foot in time.
Music danced out, cheerful as Connor had asked, lively and quick. Branna’s gaze laughed toward Meara, and Iona saw the friendship, the ease and depth of it even as Meara laughed and nodded.
“I’ll tell me ma when I go home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone.”
More magick, Iona thought. The bright, happy music, Meara’s rich, flirtatious voice, the humor on Branna’s face as she played. Her heart, already high, lifted as she imprinted everything—the sound, the look, even the air on her memory.
She’d never forget this moment, and how it made her feel.
She caught Boyle watching her, a bemused smile on his face. She imagined she looked like a starstruck idiot, and didn’t care.
When applause rang out, she found herself bouncing on her seat. “Oh, that was great! You’re both amazing.”
“Won us a prize once, didn’t we, Branna?”
“That we did. First prize, Hannigan’s Talent Show. A short-lived enterprise to match our short-lived career.”
“You were grand, both of you, then and now, but we’re grateful Meara didn’t run off to be a singing star.” Boyle gave her hand a pat. “We need her at the stables.”
“I’d rather sing for the fun than my supper.”
“Don’t you want to have more fun?” Iona gave Meara a poke on the arm. “Give us another.”
“Look what you started,” Branna said to her brother.
“You don’t play for fun often enough. I always wish you would.” And when he laid a hand on Branna’s cheek, she sighed.
“You have a way, you do, and you know it.”
“Iona’s not the only Yank in here tonight. I’ve spotted a few others. Give them ‘Wild Rover,’ and send them back with the memory of the two beauties in the pub in Cong.”
“Such a way, you do,” she said and laughed. And shaking her hair back, lifted the fiddle.