Irish Bones II: Irish Bones Series, #2

By Rebecca Conaty Bruce

Irish Bones II is the sequel to Irish Bones book 1. This sequel follows Lovina and her new life after she left Ireland. She decides the farm in Pennsylvania where she grew up is the safest place for her and her Irish grandparents. What will she tell the child she is carrying about the father she left behind in Ireland? Will she ever return to Ireland or is she afraid she will be found out? Lovina comes to terms with the lessons she has learned from her past, but will always wonder if  her future will change since she found her Irish Bones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Conaty Bruce
• Release date: Jul 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201148478

Rebecca Conaty Bruce

Rebecca started writing at an early age but did not become a serious writer until she retired and then published her first book: Irish Bones Rebecca now lives in Florida with her husband and writes full time. She has two series published and one YA fiction/fantasy.

Book preview

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my mother, Gloria Conaty who always encouraged me to set a goal and go for it. She was proud to have Irish ancestors. In addition, I want to thank my three grown children, and my loving husband, John who have inspired me and supported me in every way. I would also like to thank my uncles who jokingly call themselves the Irish Mafia.

I decided to write a sequel to the first IRISH BONES because the characters needed more. We needed to tell what their life was like after leaving their beloved homeland of Ireland. Many Irish immigrated to America during troubling times hoping for a better life only to miss the Ireland they left behind. The many generations after them may not have been born in Ireland but it will always be in their IRISH BONES.  I hope you enjoy this book as much as the first one. This is for all who have Irish Bones.

Written in each character’s point of view.

Prologue

... Lovina did not set out to kill Shane Magee, but she did. She wanted revenge yes, but mostly wanted her family farm back and to restore dignity to her granddad.

Lovina had a head injury; Shane forced whiskey down her, undressed her and took advantage of her. When she discovered who he really was, they scuffled and he hit his head on the stone fireplace.  Lovina set the cottage on fire and fled Ireland. Now she is pregnant with an evil man’s child, living back in Pennsylvania with her Irish grandparents. Can she forget the past and embrace the future with a childhood friend who has always loved her?

Will she ever return to Ireland or is she too afraid. Will she learn to forgive herself and move on? This second book in the series starts after Lovina has returned to the farmhouse in Pennsylvania with her Irish grandparents in tow. Lovina hopes to find a way to cope with life, pregnancy and getting her old job back. She still has to rid herself of the guilt, her fretful childhood and her Irish Bones.

LOVINA

Life back on the farm in Pennsylvania was different for me this time. I am sure it was because I had real family that loved and cared about me. My granddad Patrick settled in quickly and he was very happy to have his companion Rose at his side. Sending passage for her to come to America was a good decision. We are a family. I was getting bigger every day. My belly swelling as I counted down the weeks until I deliver. Granddad never asked about the baby or the father and I never brought it up.

The first task granddad Patrick started on was painting the barn a nice red. He said barns in Ireland were always gray and dreary in his day so he wanted a nice bright color. I can imagine barns of any color brought back bad memories for him. It was in the barn back in Ireland that he and my grandmother had a first kiss. It was where my mother was conceived after the first time they made love.  It was also in a barn that Patrick was beaten, left for dead and his leg broken. The break never healed correctly and gave him a limp for the rest of his life.

Rose’s arthritis had settled down some being in the Pennsylvania climate and her and granddad settled in to the first floor bedroom. I decided to sleep upstairs in my old room and give them the larger room so they did not have to climb the stairs. My old childhood bedroom did not have the bad memories in it like the downstairs one did. Rose and I started taking down all the old red-checkered curtains in the kitchen and replacing them with bright yellow sunflower ones. We removed all the heavy velvet drapes in the parlor and bedrooms and washed the windows. The farmhouse and barn looked and felt like a completely different place. Change was welcomed. This place had bad memories for me, as did the barn for granddad. This was the home I grew up in and where my father James died. The moment my whole world changed.  If he had not told me, I had Irish bones on his deathbed I do not know that I would have ever found out. Maybe I would have never traveled to Ireland or met my granddad Patrick. My childhood of growing up different and being bullied by the neighboring farm children all made sense. I was different. I was born in Ireland and brought to America as a baby to grow up on this farm with James and Sarah raising me as their own child. My red hair and green eyes made me stand out. I never looked like anyone else.  I swore to get as far away from this farmhouse as I could. Now I find myself back here on the farm with my Irish Grandparents about to have a baby of my own.

I decided to keep the name Lovina given to me by James and Sarah who raised me. I was told by granddad that my mother Maggie had named me Fiona after my grandmother who died a horrible death during childbirth.  I burned that table so she will rest in peace. I will honor her in my own way but I do not want to carry her name for obvious reasons. Sarah and James changed my name to Lovina after James mother the day they met Patrick on the docks and he handed me over to them like a gift from Ireland.

I was sure no one connected me to the murder in Ireland but just in case, I was keeping a low profile. That is until Mabel Bass came to visit. Our old gossiping nosy neighbor was still alive and well and could not wait to pay us a visit to meet the new family I had brought back to the farm from Ireland. 

Mabel Bass and Rose became fast friends and shared recipes while having tea every afternoon. They discussed the quality of American tea versus Irish tea and that biscuits were not optional they were tradition.  Mabel noticed my swelling belly but never really said anything, which was a surprise. I did find out later that her daughter Mary and her dentist husband had been unable to conceive and it was a touchy subject. I have to smile knowing I did something that Mary did not do first and in her eyes better than she did.

Mabel was helpful to Rose and I when we started getting the room next to mine set up as a nursery. She had gotten one of her sons to get the old crib out of the attic and place it in the room. Sarah had set up this room for a baby she was expecting but sadly lost. After her miscarriage, she closed up the room until she decided to open a boarding house when James died. The money that Sarah left me from her boarding house was the money I used to travel to Ireland and bring Rose over on the first plane. Now we were all standing in that room trying to decide what color to paint it.

Yellow is a nice neutral color for a baby Mabel said with way too much excitement in her voice. My Mary had a yellow room till she moved out of the house and went to college, she continued.

I looked at Rose and we both nodded. That settles it! I think the room should be a pale green like the colors of Ireland I exclaimed and clapped my hands in the air. Rose and I will go to the hardware store tomorrow and pick out a few shades of green. We will give the crib a fresh coat of white paint and we will sew green and white checkered curtains, I said putting my hands on my hips and looking around the room. I would have chosen any color that was not Mary Yellow at this point. Rose patted me on the back as we turned to leave the room and head back down stairs.

PATRICK

It is a good feeling to work in the dirt and till up the land for planting. This is a very large farm and I want to grow everything I can. When I was young and growing up in Ireland I helped my mammy dig up the potatoes and gather the corn and wheat. We did not have a large farm area but Da and Ma tried to grow as much food to eat as we could. Ma always loved a nice turnip to throw in the porridge.  My older brothers John and Mick helped the mostly. When I came along, they saw mammy babied me too much. They made fun of me and called me soft. Ma always wanted a girl after having two boys so she kept me in the cottage more and coddled me.  I suppose it was not a bad thing that I grew up not knowing how to fight and be rough like my brothers. They trained to be soldiers for Ireland since they could walk and talk. They used sticks for guns and marched around pretending to fight for Ireland. My Da had a strong bond with my brothers and together they joined the secret meetings and volunteers that started the uprising in Ireland. I was but sixteen and very unaware of the secret plans going on. I was sneaking off to meet my beautiful Fiona in the barn next door. My parents left with my brothers to fight for Ireland but I could not leave my Fiona who was with child. Her Da found out about us, beat me, and busted my leg. I spent many nights hidden in the hills and my leg did not heal right. I was unaware of what was happening in Dublin or anywhere.  It was on the night of the Easter rising that my Fiona died and my daughter Maggie was born.  I was all alone with a wee baby. It was a grand beginning for Ireland but a sad day for me.

I left my family cottage in the country not knowing where I would end up until I met Thomas on the road.  Thomas gave me a ride back to Limerick and to his sister Rose who I fell in love with over time. We raised my daughter Maggie, who I named after my mother Margaret Conaty. Rose had a son Michael and together we celebrated many years of holidays and happiness operating a small bakery in Limerick. The city life with Rose was very different from the country cottage I grew up in with my parents. Lovina is Maggie’s child that I brought to America and gave to Sarah and James to raise.  I am fine with her deciding to keep using the name Lovina. To have to call her Fiona will bring back too many memories for me. She looks so much like her.  Her beautiful curly red hair and bright green eyes gives me a chill like seeing a ghost. This farm is where James and Sarah raised my granddaughter, Lovina on and I am grateful to be able to work the land and grow our food for the first time in my life.

It was a hard decision to make to leave Ireland. It was hard to leave Rose’s brother, Thomas and my Maggie behind. Maggie still lives in a hospital in Dublin. Maggie suffered a brain injury. It was in a barn, trying to defend my honor and seek revenge for her mother Fiona’s death.  I still talk to Thomas on these long distance phones to hear of any progress. He visits her every month.  Maybe one day we can meet again.

We are not the only Irish that have left to seek a different life. Maybe even a better life. My mother had a cousin leave and come to America on a ship many years before us. Many Irish have left during the hard times. Many became indentured servants to pay for their passage. Many Parents sent their teenage children to America to save them from dying in the rebellions and the starvation years. It does not mean we do not love and miss our beautiful Ireland. We just want to live. The Irish are proud and hard workers.  Thousands of Irish workers worked on building the Erie Canal in New York that had to be dug out by hand with shovels. Irish men worked on railroads and in coalmines breathing in the coal dust just to make a living. I stayed at an Irish boarding house above a pub in New York and saw the men go out every day working hard and come back tired and broken. They all missed Ireland.  I may not have been aware of the troubles in Ireland because I had my own sorrows but I am now. Ireland will always be in my heart and in my bones as well as the generations that come after me. I keep fighting the voices in my head that tell me I should not have left Ireland.

LOVINA

Since arriving from New York with Patrick and Rose, I have not been out of the house or in to town. We needed to clean and make the changes to the farmhouse to make it our own so we can start making new memories. Mabel Bass has been generous in bringing over casseroles that she brags she cooked in her new fangled Frigidaire electric oven. She has been our neighbor since I can remember. Mabel had two children that were slightly older than me. Her son Travis joined the army during the draft and her daughter Mary is a nurse. In March of this year before I traveled to Ireland, the United States announced that 3,500 American soldiers will be sent to Vietnam. Had I not met Patrick and then traveled to Ireland I could be writing many stories about our involvement in the war.

Maybe, I am not meant to be a writer for the newspaper. I have missed so many big events in history this year. Fourth of July they presented the first flag with fifty stars in Philadelphia following the admission of Hawaii as the 50th state. I should have been there pen and paper in hand but I was in a hotel room in New York. I should have covered the Democratic convention when they nominated John F. Kennedy but I was chilling in a hotel room in New York waiting for the results from the doctor.

I missed many opportunities to report the news but having Patrick and Rose here with me at the farm is a gift I never thought I would ever receive. I think I will crank up my father James old red Ford truck and take it for a ride into town.  I have not seen anyone since Sarah died and we need a few groceries from the market.

My first stop will be the Alexander car lot where I bought my first car. My first car purchase and best ride ever, the blue jeep of course. I put quite a few miles on it while driving from the Atlanta airport to New York after I returned from Dublin.  I planned it that way so if I was caught or possibly followed, no one could link Atlanta to Patrick waiting in New York. Maybe it is time to trade it in the jeep for a practical car. I might need to drive a mom van now that I am expecting. It will also be easier to fit the whole family in a van.

I pulled the red truck into the parking lot and I see Paul the salesperson nod towards me. Paul is the one who sold me the jeep and I had to go to dinner with him to get a good deal. I watch him as he finishes up with a customer. He has let his sandy blonde hair grow longer and he is sporting a little facial hair. He was always taller than most boys in high school were, but he never liked sports. His family had a smaller farm with lots of chickens and only a few crops they sold at a stand by the road. His father was wise because all the neighbors came to the Alexander farm to buy eggs instead of the market.  It was said they grew the biggest and best watermelons and pumpkins in the state. They also sold chicks and roosters. After his parents died, Paul sold a few acres of the farm and some big company built cracker box houses on the twenty acres they owned. I laugh when I think about all those houses built on layers and layers of chicken shit. I bet they have no problem growing flowers.

Paul finished up with his