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it’s not my home.”
    “That has been made abundantly clear to
me.”
    “Oh, stop! Really? I’m really going to be the
bad guy in all this? All because I want to go home to my own
country?”
    “What did you need to say to me? Because I
think I’ve heard all this before. You’re going. And you don’t want
anyone to be unhappy about that fact. I guess we should all just
work to love you less.”
    That stopped her. He watched her face crumble
into the threat of tears.
    “Now, now, Sarah…” He put his hand out to her
and she came easily into his arms. It hadn’t been his intention to
touch her. Nothing good could come of that, but touching her he
was. He brought his other arm around and held her close.
    Was it only guilt and the thought of missing
him that brought her to him like this? He couldn’t help enjoying
the feel of her in his arms. A piece inside of him relented and he
felt his shoulders let go of the tension he’d held ever since she
said she would go.
    Hadn’t he always known she would go?
    “I’m so sorry, Mike,” she said, her voice
muffled against his chest. “It’s killing me. You have to know
that.”
    “Aye,” he said softly. “I know it.”
    He tilted her chin to look into her eyes and
saw her fighting a battle with herself. Likely it was the urge to
tell him, again, that it was all for John. That if it were just up
to her, she’d stay…although she’d never even hinted that that was the case. Wisely, she held her tongue.
    “Walk with me back to camp,” he said. “We’re
ready to start the harvest on the corn and the extra hands of you
and the kids will be a big help.” He knew she needed to hear it,
regardless of how essentially untrue it was.
    Back at camp, they parted, but not before
she’d made him promise to come to dinner after the day’s work in
the field. The families of the camp, alerted by Gavin, were milling
about the center of camp, waiting for Mike to give them
instructions on the corn harvest.
    “Right,” Mike said stepping up to the
elevation of the decking in front of his hut. “It’s time and the
good Lord has blessed us with enough rain—but not too much—so it
looks like we have a decent corn crop this summer after all. I’ll
be asking the Sullivan family and the Dohertys to start at the
southeast corner of the field, and the Mulligans and the
Kilpatricks to pick at the northwest corner and work toward the
middle. Everyone else will follow me. Now, remember there’ll be
pickers, pruners, and them to cart the harvest back to camp.”
    He turned to Fiona, who was standing on her
front porch, her hands on her hips, listening. “Fiona will
coordinate the processing and storing of the corn once it’s
transported back to camp.”
    Fiona nodded, a faint smile on her lips.
    “Sarah, Jenny, Maggie and Lyndie will all
help Fiona. Every child over twelve is in the field picking. Under
twelve will be minded by Papin and Daisy.” He turned to the two
girls. “Mind everyone gets their kiddies back in one piece at the
end of the day, eh?” They grinned and nodded.
    “That’s it. We’ll do the corn this week and
the potatoes and cabbage next and finish up with the kale, the
wheat and the beets the final week.”
    “What about the Lughnasa ?” someone called
out.
    “We’ll have the feast the
Sunday after the last cabbage or beet is picked, packed and stored
for the winter. Any other questions?”
    Brian Gilhooley raised a
hand. “Where would you like me?”
    Mike forced himself not to
wince. Would Dublin be too far?
    “If you could work alongside the
Kilpatricks,” he said, nodding to the family of eight already
moving into the fields, “that would be a big help, so it would,” he
said.
    His eyes followed Sarah,
who was walking over to Fiona on her porch.
     
    ***
    She could see Fi was a
little calmer since the last time they talked. It had been two
days. Two long days where Sarah missed her best friend dearly. Two
days of no gossip, no laughter, no