Murder on an Irish Farm by Carlene O'Connor

Author:Carlene O'Connor [O'Connor, Carlene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Built in 1879, the collegiate church never failed to awe Siobhán. Its spiral steeple rising proudly above the town, ten gorgeous stained-glass windows, bright colors intersecting into a five-light arch, and the interior ceilings, with Victorian-era mosaics and intricate leaves and flowers painted on the original wood beams, made for a delightful and inspiring experience.

The next morning Siobhán headed for the church after her run. She would not have time to stop and admire the ceiling today, apart from an appreciative glance. One of the nuns was in the garden at the side of the building, surrounded by colorful pots and flowers, so intent in her work she did not look up as Siobhán headed inside. At the bistro they had a small garden out back, and Eoin kept up with planting fresh herbs and the girls and Ciarán tended the flowers. At the farm they’d have the ability to grow vegetables if they liked, and the gardening possibilities were slightly dizzying. Siobhán’s thumb wasn’t at all green, so she’d have to leave it to her brood. But the thought of having all that land and not using it set her nerves on edge. She could see them living there, one big group, with room to roam. But she doubted gardening would give her the same joy as was on the nun’s face as she worked away, oblivious to anyone else around her.

She found Father Kearney hurrying down the aisle toward his office. “Hello,” she called. He stopped, his back still to her, as if he were afraid to turn around. He took a moment. Then when he did turn and greet her, she knew by his expression that she was not imagining things: he did not look thrilled to see her. “Sorry to pop in unannounced, but you were supposed to call me about your appointment book.”

“Right,” he said. “Of course.” He gave a resigned smile and motioned for her to follow him. “I’m afraid I forgot all about it, but now that you’re here, I’ll have a look.”

She followed him down the hall and into his office. It was cluttered but in a somewhat orderly manner, with stacks everywhere you looked, books, papers, newspapers. His desk was clear except for the large leather appointment book. He gestured to a seat across from his desk as he eased himself into his chair.

“You are here to reschedule your wedding date, is that it?”

“Not yet,” Siobhán said. “We’re waiting until this case is solved.”

He frowned but did not comment.

“I’m actually here on official business.”

He glanced at his appointment book. It seemed he did remember her request, or at least she had jogged his memory. He drew it close. “I meant to give you a bell, but you’re here now.” He adjusted the appointment book and waited.

“I’d like you to check your book for our original wedding date. You penciled us in but then called to say something else had been booked.” She gave him the date.

He nodded as he thumbed through the pages.

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