"Do you not?"

The question was baited, but Danni didn't bite. After a moment, Colleen sighed and glanced away. "I can't say what you wanted in the visions. Could be you just wanted me to know you. To recognize you when you finally came." She paused, eyed Danni, and then went on. "It's not the answer you're looking for, but it's all I can tell you. I saw your coming and I have waited, waited and hoped. Now here you are."

"Hoped for what?" Danni asked.

"For you to put things right, of course."

"What . . . why would you think I could put things right?"

Colleen's smile was again grandmotherly, only now the facade was gone. There was love and tenderness in the look. She reached out and patted Danni's arm.

"Time will answer that one, lamb."

Colleen started back down the trail, talking as she went. Danni hurried to follow.

"I was just sixteen when I came to Ballyfionuir," Colleen said. "It was a different time, then. Back in those days, the house had just been built and the family was very powerful, very wealthy-before the hard times, you understand. It's the whole island they own, did you know that? It's gifted, the lands we live on."

She nodded to herself for a moment and then went on. "Me mum, she had the sight herself but she never took to it well, and in the end it drove her crazy."

"Your mother had it?" Danni said, surprised.

"Oh aye. You'll find it's not uncommon on the Isle of Fennore. I'll never understand why my mother left to live in Dublin, among people who were different. We're all family here, one way or another. And the gift, it's hereditary. Did you not know it?"

"No, I didn't."

"Ah, and now you do." Colleen looked blatantly satisfied by this revelation. Danni wondered if her own expression was as transparent, if Colleen could see just how lost Danni felt.

"The sight drove my mother to her death and left me penniless, living on the streets. I knew she had family here so I came to Ballyfionuir hoping they'd take me in. My uncle gave me a home and got me a job in the big house. It was a fine job and it's lucky I felt to have it. On the streets the offers of employment were not so honorable, if you get my meaning."

Danni nodded. She could imagine the propositions that a young and beautiful Colleen might have garnered. She must have been stunning in her youth. The kind of girl men longed to possess . . .

"When I first came, there were some living here that could recall the days when a MacGrath had always been laird of Ballyfionuir."

"Laird? Is that like a king?"

"I suppose in some ways, but more like the head of the family. MacGrath land. MacGrath people. Brion MacGrath was of the old ways, and the people, they loved him. No one on his island went hungry nor did a one of them shirk their responsibilities. We took care of his island and he took care of us. You see how it was?"

"Codependent," Danni said.

"Coda what?" she asked, frowning. "'Tis no matter. I see you understand what I am saying. I'd lived here some months before I met Brion MacGrath. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at his house, upstairs changing the sheets, thinking I was alone as I worked and sang when suddenly himself is standing on the other side of the bed dressed only in a towel and smelling of his bath. He smiled at me and told me I had the voice of a lark. I had never seen a man without his clothes. Me mum was a widow and a stricter woman I've never met. She didn't go for shenanigans."

Colleen took a breath and went on with the manner of someone taking a plunge into icy waters. "I tried to hurry from the room, but Brion, he tells me to go on about my business. 'I'll be no bother,' says he, and took himself to the changing room, leaving the door as wide as the gates to heaven. I didn't look, but I knew from the sounds that he was dressing, right in front of me. I finished with the bed and hurried out. Later I was scolded for the sloppy job I'd done."

Danni tried to interrupt then, wanting to ask why Colleen was spinning this tale. What did it have to do with Danni or Sean and how they'd come here?

But sensing Danni's intentions, Colleen said, "I've a point, child. Let me get to it in my own way." Danni nodded and Colleen went on. "After that, Brion MacGrath, he was everywhere I was. At first I thought it was chance that brought him to my path. But I soon came to see it for what it was. Even so, I didn't realize what it meant until he found me one day out in the pastures, by yonder dolmen. It was my special place to sit and think. It was where I had the sight for the first time."

"You didn't see things when you were a child?"

"No," she said, looking surprised by the question. "Not as a child." Something that crossed superstitious fear with curiosity gleamed from her eyes as she stared at Danni. "I've never heard of anyone who had the sight as a child. Until you, that is."

Danni felt goose bumps rise on her arms. "What did you see, when you were sitting there?" she asked, nodding at the dolmen.

"It was Brion, come for me. I was swollen with child and he declaring his love. In it, he said he'd be done with his wife and he'd take me as the mistress of Ballyfionuir."

Danni's mouth was dry and her nerves felt raw. If this was true-if any of this was true-then Colleen was talking about Danni's grandfather.

"He was going to divorce his wife?"

"No, lass. 'Twas no divorce in Ireland those days. That was a sin against God and government alike."

"Then how . . ."

"'Twas my very question. How? And then I saw, in this dream of mine, what he meant to do. He meant to kill her."

"Wait," Danni said, holding up her hand. "He wouldn't divorce her because that would be a sin, but killing her wasn't?"

"Oh sure and it was. But who would say it was him? Who would dare point a finger at the man who allowed food to be put on the table? Would be like cutting off your own hand."

Danni shook her head, unable to comprehend life with such loyalty and dependence.

"Brion was loved in this town and none would stand against him. All of this I saw. And then lo and behold, there's the man himself, the real man, casting his shadow over me. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. 'You know I'll have you,' says he. And I did know."

"You didn't try to stop it?"

"Are ye not hearing me, child? Yes, I tried to stop it. I didna want to play my part in it all. I swear to y' though, the man had some of the gift himself, for he seemed to read what I thought. He kissed me until my young toes curled right into my shoes. A kiss that was as sinful as the man, it was. And then he left me on my own to think about it. I would not be female if I'd been able to forget such a kiss. My first, it was and from a man who knew how to give it."

"Why are you telling me this, Colleen?" Danni asked at last, watching the obvious discomfort in the older woman's face and bearing. She didn't like relating this story, but for some reason, she felt compelled.

"You asked me if I know who you are. I do. Listen so you can know, too." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "He said he'd have me for his own and have me he did, though I kept him at bay for longer than most women could have. He was beautiful, Brion MacGrath, and he was gentle. I began to think that he loved me. I think it still. But that was a terrible thing, for I'd seen what he had not yet thought of-I'd seen where this love would lead us. When I realized I was with child, a horror it was for me to face. I'd fooled myself into thinking it would not happen the way I'd seen. But there I was with a bastard child in me and no place to go but back to the filthy streets."

"What did you do?"

"It was his wife who offered me salvation."

"His wife?"

"Aye. She called me to her rooms, and I knew exactly why. I knew she'd seen us or heard the servants' gossip. I was shamed to my soul as I stood in front of her. She said that I was one of many women before and would be just one of many after where her husband was concerned. She said that he would lose interest and cast me aside, and I would be destitute. She'd seen it before; she'd see it again. And then she offered me a choice-a terrible choice." Colleen's voice faltered for a moment. "She told me that for years she'd tried to conceive and had been unblessed. She needed a child to keep her husband with her. I knew what it cost for her to tell me this, though she spoke like she was made of stone, all pride and disdain.

"She told me she knew of a man in Limerick-where she herself was from. This man's wife had died in childbirth. He needed a woman to care for his babe and his home. If I would get myself with Brion's child, she would see me wed to this man before I showed my condition. She would pretend to be pregnant whilst I was carrying and when my time came, I was to send for her and we would say the baby had come dead. She would take it home, though, and say she'd delivered it herself."

"What? That would never work," Danni said. "What about the doctor? What about the body of your stillborn? How would you explain there being no body? And what about the man you married? Surely he would know? Not to mention her husband-how did she think she could fake being pregnant to him?"

"She'd thought of it all down to the last detail-the very last detail. My new husband and I were to be given a house with land enough to work. A few sheep. A cow. A boat, for my husband-to-be was a fisherman. A life of respectability. She built us a past with a means to explain all we had. If I did as she asked, I would have a future of sorts. If I did not, she would have me exposed as an adulteress, and she would tell the authorities that I'd been stealing from the family. My aunt and uncle who'd taken me in would be disgraced along with me. I could see all too clearly what lay down that road. If she succeeded, I would be jailed, my child taken away. If she failed, Brion would have her murdered, and I would wear the stain of her blood on my heart for the rest of my life-and everyone in Ballyfionuir would know of it. I'd already lived on the streets once in my young life and I couldn't face going back there. It was no choice for a girl to make, but I could see that I hadn't an option. I was carrying Brion's child already and alone I had nothing to offer it. I agreed to her proposition."

Danni's eyes widened as she waited for the next words.

"And so I married a man with a kind soul and a needy babe who'd also made a pact with the devil, for he lacked all choice as well. In that day, you didn't turn down a house and property for principle. Michael took me as his wife, but he knew what I had bargained and he found me disgraceful. As for Brion's missus, she played her role beautifully. She blossomed with her pregnancy, and the town cheered her along. I turned Brion away, and she gathered him up like a bouquet with her promises of a baby. But she did not get all she wanted, for he never stopped loving me."

Colleen shook her head sadly. "I was small and able to hide my baby until I was far along while she exaggerated her condition so that when I reached my nine months. Most thought I was only five or six and she was ready to deliver any day. She played midwife to me and I think in her heart she hoped I would die giving birth. She and Michael both. But I delivered a squalling baby as if I'd done it a hundred times before. I put that bundle of humanity to my breast just once, and then she took him away, leaving me alone with the pains of my milk and another woman's child to fill the place in my heart my own babe had left. If I'd been a stronger woman, I'd have killed myself."

Danni stopped walking as those trailing words washed over her. She grappled with the reality of Colleen's story, not able to bring it into focus. Not able to process what Colleen was saying.

Colleen went on. "It was the worst kind of torture, watching her and Brion parade my baby in their pushcart. But the Blessed Jesus has a wry wit and a cruel sense of irony. Though they looked the happy family, Brion never could adjust himself to the miraculous birth, and he was convinced that Marga had been unfaithful to him. That I had never conceived by him only made him more convinced that he was not able to father a child."

"But the baby was his," Danni said, "and yours."

Colleen nodded, watching her. And suddenly Danni comprehended what her mind had refused to grasp before.

"Wait a minute. Are you saying . . . ?"

"Aye, lass, I am. Your father was my baby."

"But that would make you . . ."

Colleen nodded. "Yes it would."

"But what about Niall?"

"Michael's babe by his dead wife, though he is the child of my heart as well."

Danni couldn't stop the shaky breath of relief. Not her uncle, then. No blood relation between her and Sean.

"So now you know who you are and where you come from," Colleen said softly. "You are a child of the Ballagh and MacGrath lines-families whose histories go back to a time before memory."

Danni frowned, overwhelmed by all she'd learned but bothered by what she sensed was still missing from Colleen's story. "Why did you feel it important to tell me all this? There's more to it than just knowing who my grandparents are, isn't there?"

"Aye, that's true enough. You asked how you came to be here. To answer that, you must know that your bloodline is filled with people who have seen the future, people who have changed their own destiny."

"And how have they done that?" Danni demanded.

"That I cannot tell you, child. If I knew how it was done, wouldn't I do it myself?"

"You brought me here because you think I can change-"

"I told you," Colleen snapped. "It was not I who brought you. But here you are, all the same. It is up to you to figure out how and why. Only you can know what to do next."

"You make it sound like I should have all the answers. I woke up this morning and it was twenty years ago. How the hell should I know what to do with that?"

"Something inside you knows it already, Dairinn MacGrath. I suggest you figure out what part of you it is and start listening to what it has to say. There are worse places to awaken than your past."

Chapter Fourteen.

THE MacGrath house seemed to be in a state of chaos when Colleen led Danni through the gates. Men worked the grounds, planting flowers in the beds, pulling weeds, trimming trees, mowing the lawn that stretched like a carpet amongst the wild pastures. Others were at work washing the many windows and cleaning out gutters, putting a fresh coat of yellow paint on the outside walls.

Colleen took her around to the back door, and following, Danni was suddenly swamped with an aching loneliness. She didn't want to go inside-didn't want to step into the house where she'd spent her first five years and face the fact that she had no memory of it. She couldn't do it-not alone. She wished Sean were here with her, ridiculous as that sounded even to herself. He would hold her hand, though. He would share his warmth, his strength.

But he wasn't here and Danni had no choice but to follow Colleen inside.

The back door opened onto a bright, cheery kitchen with pale blue walls and tiled counters. Stonework to the right framed an old coal-burning oven and made the massive room seem cozy and welcoming. In front of it, a long pine table with benches tucked beneath it and chairs on either end sat empty but shining from a fresh polish. Behind it was a pine coffer with a round lock centered in front.

Danni glanced away and then quickly back as recognition hit her. The chest wasn't such an unusual piece, and yet she knew she'd seen that particular one before-in the vision when her mother had shown Danni the Book of Fennore.

But this wasn't the same room she'd seen it in.

Danni swallowed hard, unconsciously bracing herself for that terrible hum, the fecund odor, the oozing blood.

"Are you ill, child?" Colleen asked, touching Danni's arm and bringing her back to the sunny kitchen.

"I'm fine," Danni answered, pulling her gaze from the coffer.

A window over the sink looked out at the gardens and breathtaking ruins. Bundled spices dangled from strings around it, and a rack suspended by chains from the ceiling displayed an assortment of copper kettles and pans above it. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and some other sweet and elusive aroma she didn't recognize, yet deep within her it stoked a memory and made her feel simultaneously comforted and bereft.

Two women stood at the counter with a pile of dough between them. They chattered and laughed as they rolled it into ping-pong sized balls and stuffed them with a dark sticky concoction Danni couldn't begin to guess at. Another woman entered from a swinging door that probably led to a dining room. She carried a tray of crystal stemware to the sink for washing.

As Danni and Colleen hovered just inside, a stout woman with black hair and sharp blue eyes approached. Danni caught her breath as another bite of recognition nipped at her memory and associated the woman with tasty treats and warm hugs.

Colleen beamed at her and said, "Morning to you Bronagh. This is Danni Ballagh, come all the way from America to help you this fine day. A blessing she'll be. Danni, this fine woman is Bronagh Dougherty."

"Danni? And isn't that a strange name for a woman to be calling herself? Is it your father you're named for?"

"I don't know," Danni answered honestly.

"Well, no matter." She shifted her attention to Colleen. "'Tis late you are. I'm not of a mind to call that a blessing."

"Oh no and sorry we are for that. But the poor child dinna arrive until the wee hours of the morn, and without a bit of sleep, she'd have been no use to you. She'll not be late again."

Bronagh's tight mouth eased and a quirk of her lips told Danni she might be smiling, but it pained her. "Well then, I'll let it go this time. Have you had your breakfast?"

Danni opened her mouth to say, "Yes," but Colleen cut her off.

"Well, what do you take me for not to feed the girl a hot meal for breakfast?" she demanded.

"No offense meant, but Americans are peculiar. How am I to know if she only ate just enough to smooth your feathers? Could be she's still longing for a decent meal."

"And what would you be knowing about the peculiarities of the fecking Americans' appetites?" Colleen challenged.

"Are you thinking you're the only one who knows Americans?" Bronagh sniffed and put her nose in the air. Two steps took her to a shelf beside the oven that was packed with cookbooks. "My own brother was recently in the lovely state of Nebraska and didn't he bring me both of these lovely American recipe books?"

With much ado she held up a red and white checked Betty Crocker cookbook in one hand and Omaha's Best Recipes, with "pot-lucks for any occasion," in the other. Danni hid a smirk, wondering if Bronagh had ever cracked the cover on that one.