If you’ve read the first two books of the series, Deceptive Hearts (Shane’s story) and Keeper of the Light (Cathal’s story),
you might remember Dary. He’s the easy-going member of the group. The one who
smoothes things over between twins Kieran and Cathal Donnelly. The solid friend
who sat quietly with Shane MacDermott after the loss of his wife. He’s a
likeable guy, and he’s everyone’s friend.
He’s also the lucky one. Everyone says so. He alone
among his siblings survived the coffin ship fleeing famished Ireland. His
father made money in construction and he was able to go to college. He returned
from the War virtually unscathed.
But it’s not until Róisín Donavan comes into his
life that he really believes it. She’s an Irish girl who lives in a Five Points
tenement room. She dreams of a future as a great diva and sings comeallyes (Irish
songs) at Paddy Ryan's Pub, the preferred pub of the Wild Geese. But her
stubborn Irish pride won't allow her to abandon her family, even if it means
sacrificing everything for them.
Here’s an excerpt:
The Sally
Malone, Black ‘47
On the Atlantic Ocean
They slid into
the water with scarcely a sound.
Dary Greely
clung to his father’s hand, watching as the bodies, clad in little more than
rags, were tossed over the side of the ship. The children first: his little
brother and two sisters. Then Mrs. Morrissey, his new friend Declan’s ma. Shane
MacDermott’s da, and the twins’ ma and their granny.
His ma’s thin
fingers bit into his shoulder. She was sobbing into a threadbare handkerchief,
her eyes red and swollen from crying. He looked up at her, then at Da. A
shudder ran through him that had nothing to do with the cold wind blowing in
from the sea.
Da’s eyes were dead. Their bright green was dimmed with
sorrow. His dark-red hair blew across his face, but he made no move to shove it
back with his big, callused workman’s hand. He stared out to sea, a muscle in
his jaw jerking rhythmically.
Dary swallowed
hard, glancing around him. He saw Shane, clutching his wee brother’s hand, one
arm about his ma’s shoulders as she tried to soothe the fussy gossoon in her
arms. Kieran and Cathal Donnelly stood close together, drawing silent comfort
from each other as tears ran down their da’s face. Declan, self-controlled as
always, stared into the water, his face full of sorrow, tears in his eyes that
he refused to shed.
When the last
victim of the ship’s fever sank to the bottom of the sea, the steerage
passengers turned away, their muffled sobs and soft keening carried away on the
rising wind. They’d left Ireland for a better life in America, but would any of
them survive to see that land of promise?
As they turned
to go, his father suddenly knelt before him, clutching Dary’s shoulders and
staring into his eyes. “Ye are the last one, Dary.” His deep voice shook with
the intensity of his grief. “The last o’ the Greelys. ’Tis ye will live on to
tell the stories o’ us all. Ye’re the lucky lad, Dary, so ye are. Always
remember that.”
The words rang
bitter in Dary’s
ears. The urge to vomit clutched at his throat with ruthless fingers. But he
managed a nod. “Aye, Da. I’ll always remember, I promise. I’m the lucky one.”
At that moment,
Dary made a fierce, silent vow to himself. He would survive to see America. He
would go to school in America, make something of himself, just as Da had told
him he could. He’d learn to read and write and do sums. He’d make his parents
proud.
He was the lucky
one.
.jpg)
