A Wild Rose in Spring Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by Kenna Gordon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-4835605-1-9

  First Page Quote:

  “An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of

  time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but will never

  break.”

  – Chinese Proverb

  Contents

  Chapter One ~Fall 1963~

  Chapter Two ~Spring 2002~

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter One

  ~Fall 1963~

  The smell of fertilizer and petrol filled the small garage on the edge of town as the four men worked quickly to finish before dusk fell over the Irish countryside. They had been gathering bags of fertilizer, cans of petrol, and empty beer kegs from a local pub for weeks, squirreling away the supplies until it was time to assemble a bomb.

  Homemade firebombs had proven effective against British troops in the past, and their training had taught them to use whatever they had on hand. Carefully measuring the exact proportions of ammonium nitrate and fuel, they filled the six aluminum barrels and sealed them tight.

  The bomb maker’s hands shook as he readied the detonator knowing that if he accidently triggered the device, the detonation wave would not only take out the tiny garage but everything within a thousand meters. After assembling the bomb, the men cautiously loaded the heavy kegs into the back of a lorry they had commandeered from a car dealer in the area. With the ability to carry 3200 kilograms of explosives, the vehicle would serve as the perfect delivery mechanism for a bomb this size. A light green sedan followed closely behind the lorry as it headed north. The driver of the automobile, a young Patrick O’Connor, wondered if he and his friends would return home safely.

  The long four-hour drive gave Patrick time to reflect on the events that brought them to this moment. How the Irish, inspired by America’s determination to achieve independence from British rule, struggled for years to gain that same independence.

  The Irish rebellion began in 1798 when the people of Ireland rose up against the British with a resolve to end England’s grip on Ireland, but the British quickly suppressed their attempts at freedom. Although the uprising was unsuccessful, it helped to unite the people of Ireland, giving them the hope that a free Irish Republic was possible. They would finally gain a modicum of independence on December 6, 1921. However, their dream of absolute freedom was still unrealized. The treaty between the Irish and the British had bitterly divided the country into North and South. While most Irish independent leaders were willing to accept a compromise, staunch Republicans were not. Their dream to secede from the United Kingdom, and establish an independent Irish Republic, included all of Ireland.

  Years of struggle came at a price, and for some that price was high. Patrick O’Connor’s grandfather had fought in both the Irish War of Independence and the Irish Civil War; he died when the black and tans captured and executed him. Years later a young Patrick watched as British soldiers brutally gunned down his father outside their home in Tipperary—he was only twelve. Patrick could still hear his mother’s whaling as she threw herself over her husband’s lifeless body. He had seen, firsthand, the heartache and devastation their fight for freedom had cost them. However, his desire to live in a free Ireland was innate; bred in him from birth.

  The IRA had recruited Patrick O’Connor and his friends, Aidan, Liam, and Seamus as part of a campaign to attack British infrastructure targets within Northern Ireland. Republican activists had already successfully destroyed a courthouse in Armagh, a couple of army barracks in County Fermanagh, and a relay transmitter owned by the BBC in the city of Derry. Their objective was to force their enemy to flee by attacking British strongholds in Northern Ireland.

  The moon hung high above the Irish countryside as the four friends drove north toward their intended target, the Ballylumford Power Station. The drive from County Cork had been uneventful, but Patrick could not help but feel a sense of trepidation. As they approached the narrow neck of land off the northern tip of Ireland, Patrick could see the lights of the power station off in the distance. The Protestant-run facility was the largest power plant in Northern Ireland; the location provided more than half the power to the province. The IRA knew that if they could disable the facility, it would hamper British operations in the North for months.

  Liam Murphy and his friend Seamus drove the small van onto the service road to the rear of the power station. The plan was to park the lorry, painted to resemble a Ballylumford service vehicle, near the back of the plant where it would do the most damage. The two men would need to work quickly to arm the bomb and make their way back to the sedan before sunrise.

  Liam turned off the engine and grabbed his backpack. Looking up at the night sky, he noticed the moon had hidden behind a bank of clouds, giving them the cover they needed to complete their task undetected.

  Looking over at his friend, Liam said, “Remember we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

  “Aye,” Seamus responded, as he checked the loaded gun in his lap.

  Jumping out of the van, they hunkered down, and hastily made their way to the back of the lorry. Liam climbed in to set the detonator while, Seamus stood watch.

  “Make it quick, it’ll be mornin’ soon,” Seamus said.

  “Aye, don’t be rushin’ me,” Liam said nervously, as he carefully connected the detonation wires and set the timer to go off during morning shift change. Exiting the back of the vehicle, Liam and Seamus walked toward the green sedan that was waiting for them just beyond a row of hedges that lined the main road.

  Patrick anxiously tapped the steering wheel as the sun began to appear on the horizon. Where were his friends? They should be here by now he thought. A burst of gunfire made him sit to attention.

  “What the hell,” he said looking over at Aidan.

  Aidan looked out the window hoping to see his friends, but instead, he only saw Seamus, covered in blood, running toward the car.

  Jumping into the back seat he breathlessly said, “They shot him. They shot Liam.”

  “Who shot him?” Aidan asked.

  “A British soldier.” Seamus buried his head in his bloody hands. “They shot him,” he muttered repeatedly.

  Patrick flung the car door open and started getting out of the vehicle. “Patrick, no,” Aidan said, grabbing his arm. “We have to go. We have to go now!”

  “I won’t be leavin’ him here.”

  “Patrick we must go. Now!” Aidan exclaimed as he noticed a small number of British soldiers making their way around the building.

  As shots rang out, Patrick put the car in gear, spun around and headed back down the service road to the main thoroughfare. His heart began to race as he headed for the main road. Taking the back roads, they made it as far as Dunnamanagh before Patrick realized the authorities would be looking for their vehicle. They drove only a few miles before abandoning the sedan in a farmer’s field.

  Taking off on foot, the three men made their way through the countryside, to the border town of Lifford, and across the River Finn to the safety of the republic.

  Exhausted, cold, and hungry, Patrick sat down to catch his breath.

  Looking over at Seamus he asked, “How did they know w
e would be there?”

  “What?”

  “How did the British know we would be there?” Patrick repeated the question.

  “How should I know,” Seamus replied.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Aidan said, trying to ease the tension between the two friends.

  Patrick knew Aidan was right; now was not the time for answers, but his thoughts were of Kathleen, Liam’s younger sister. She would be waiting for them—what was he going to tell her? What was he going to tell Kathleen?

  Chapter Two

  ~Spring 2002~

  It was a chilly spring morning; Kasey Quinn sat in a coffee shop just up the street from her apartment. She liked spending Sunday mornings at the small café sipping chai tea lattes and reading the Irish Times her grandmother had sent the week before, along with the usual tin of biscuits, and her favorite Irish brews. However, this Sunday morning Kasey was waiting for her twin sister Katelin, who as usual was running late. Always two minutes too late, Kasey thought; as she sat down at a corner table with her cup of tea, and a cup of coffee she had purchased for her sister. Kasey had agreed to meet Kate to discuss plans for Meggie’s eighty-ninth birthday, the two sisters wanted to do something special for her.

  Meggie Sheehan was their mother’s aunt; she had come from Ireland after the birth of Kathleen Quinn’s oldest son, Christopher. More than twenty-six years and five children later Meggie was running the Quinn’s household like a well-oiled machine until the unthinkable happened—doctors diagnosed Kathleen with stage-four breast cancer. Meggie was the one who took her to doctor’s appointments, soothed her when the pain was unbearable, and attended to Kathleen’s every need until she passed away in the winter of ’93. As requested, they buried Kathleen in Ireland, the place of her birth. The mourning process was hard on her family, but especially Kathleen’s twin daughters, who were only sixteen at the time of her death. Teenage girls need their mother’s love and guidance, and Meggie did her best to raise Kasey, and Katelin the way their mother would have wanted. She had sacrificed a lot for the Quinn family, and the girls knew it.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” Kate said, sitting down at the table. “The traffic from Evergreen to Denver is terrible.”

  “How’s Myles?” Kasey asked, pushing the cup of coffee in front of her sister. “Medium roast, two creams, and sugar,” she announced.

  “Thanks.” Katelin took the cup and held it between her hands to warm them. “He’s happy. He and Bryan are working on a new sprinkler system today. I swear there’s more mud in the house than there is outside.”

  “And we know how much those two love to play in the mud,” Kasey laughed.

  Kate gingerly took a sip of the hot coffee and asked, “So when are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “I thought we were going to discuss Meggie’s party,” Kasey said sounding annoyed.

  “You’re unhappy. Why can’t you admit that you made a mistake when you moved back to Colorado?” Kate asked.

  “Don’t start this again,” Kasey said, as her frustration with Katelin grew.

  “You love Sean, and you belong in Ireland.”

  “Kate, you need to let go of this happily-ever-after fairytale you’ve created for Sean and me.”

  “Okay, if you don’t want to talk about Sean, then let’s talk about Cole.”

  Kasey rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh of frustration, “What about Cole?”

  “I thought you stopped seeing him a few months ago, and now you’re engaged?—Why?” Her sister asked. Without taking a breath, she continued, “Don’t tell me you love him because I know that’s a lie.”

  “We want the same things,” Kasey replied wanting to end her sister’s interrogation.

  “No, you and Sean wanted the same things. What happened? Did he get too close?”

  “I’m going now. I have a dinner party to get ready for,” Kasey said in an exasperated tone. “When you want to talk about Meggie’s party let me know.” Finishing her latte, she stood and walked out of the coffee shop.

  Katelin knew Kasey better than anyone, so how could she continue to keep secrets from her sister? Kasey would eventually need to tell Kate why she left Ireland, why she left Sean, and why she was marrying Cole.

  *****

  “Wow!” Kevin exclaimed unlocking the front door to the Celtic Rose. Kasey stood barefoot in the doorway holding a pair of black high-heels in one hand and her keys in the other. The Celtic Rose was a local bar that felt more like a pub than a traditional American bar. The neighborhood watering hole owned by her brother Michael and his best friend Kevin McKenna were not opened for the Sunday evening crowd yet.

  “You look amazin’ darlin’,” Kevin remarked with a thick Irish burr. Taking her hand and twirling her around like a ballerina, he admired her beauty. The lacy black cocktail dress she was wearing revealed her shapely legs and bare shoulders, two things that always made Kevin McKenna look twice. Her auburn hair fell in long ringlets between the gentle curves of her shoulder blades. She wore a simple pair of diamond earrings, and the Celtic cross her mother had given her hung delicately around her neck. Kasey was as graceful as she was stunning, even in a pair of jeans. Her confidence and beauty were intimidating to most men, but a woman like Kasey Quinn was the kind of challenge Kevin McKenna desired. However, instead of putting the moves on her, Kevin had been determined from the beginning, to set Kasey up with his younger brother Sean.

  “I was on my way to a dinner party when I got your message.” Kasey smiled, ignoring his flattery to keep from blushing. Women loved Kevin’s charming Irish brogue, his flirtatious nature, and his boyish charm, and Kasey Quinn was not immune to any of it.

  “It could’ve waited until after your party darlin,” Kevin said.

  “It’s okay; you know how much I love dinner parties,” she said sarcastically. “What’s up?”

  A serious tone replaced Kevin’s flirtation as he continued, “We’ve somethin’ to tell you.”

  “We? Do you have a wee mouse in your pocket?” She said playfully, taking on an Irish lilt of her own.

  “Hello Kay,” a familiar voice said.

  Her smile slowly faded. There was only one person that called her Kay.

  “Sean!?” Kasey said looking over to see Kevin’s brother, Sean McKenna, sitting at the end of the bar nursing a pint of Murphy’s Irish Red.

  The sight of him made her heart race for a moment. It had been almost a year since Kasey had said her goodbyes at the Dublin airport. She had forgotten how attractive he was with his dark brown hair, full lips, and those eyes. Kasey stood speechless, caught in the blue of them. Sean’s eyes were a brilliant blue. A blue that could be warm or cold depending on his mood. They were a blue that was the color of a field of flax in full bloom, a vivid blue that everyone noticed the first time they saw him.

  The silence was long and uncomfortable as the two just stared at one another.

  “One of you should probably say somethin’,” Kevin suggested.

  Kasey now understood Kates renewed interest in her relationship with Sean. “You’ve seen Kate,” she stated.

  “Aye, she picked me up at the airport yesterday.”

  “What are you doing here?” Kasey asked.

  “I’ve news of Patrick,” Sean said.

  Still puzzled by the mysterious meeting she asked, “News? What news?”

  “One of the British papers is running an article about Patrick and his possible involvement in an IRA bombing.”

  “Possible? Hhhmmm. And why should I care?” Kasey asked as her demeanor shifted from curious to indifferent.

  “The article names your Uncle Liam as an accomplice in the bombing.”

  “Liam? That can’t be,” Kasey insisted.

  “They wouldn’t be printin’ the story without proof. They’ve reputable sources, Kay.”

  Sean had been in the newspaper business since graduating from the University in Dublin with a degree in journalism. He knew people in his chosen profession,
and Kasey had no choice but to believe him.

  “Did you tell Katelin?” She asked.

  “I wanted you to hear it from me first—no one else.”

  Kasey dropped her shoes and sat down at the bar; the color drained from her face as she tried to process the information. She had never met her Uncle Liam. He had died long before her birth, but Kasey knew that this kind of news would upset her grandparents.

  “Are you all right?” Sean asked taking her hand.

  Kevin poured two fingers of Jameson and placed it on the bar in front of Kasey. “Here drink this darlin.”

  Kasey slammed down the Jameson and placed the glass on the bar as if to say—give me another. “I want to see him,” she demanded pulling her hand away from Sean.

  “See who?” Kevin asked pouring her another shot of whiskey knowing all too well, to whom she was referring.

  “I want to see Patrick.”

  Kasey Quinn and her sister had found a stack of letters from Patrick O’Connor to their mother, the summer before. The discovery that Patrick was, in fact, their biological father, had changed the course of both their lives.

  Katelin had gone to visit Patrick almost a year ago, leaving the two sisters with more questions than answers. They felt torn between their feelings for James Quinn, the man that had raised them, and their newly discovered father. As a result, Kasey had been reluctant to visit Patrick—but maybe it was time.

  Taken aback by the demand Sean was unsure how to respond to the rather forceful request.

  “Let’s stop pretending,” Kasey said, spinning the glass of amber liquid between her hands. “I know that Patrick is a part of your lives. I also know that Kevin showing up after my mother’s death was no coincidence. Which leads me to believe you know where to find him.” Kasey looked directly at Sean with an icy gaze.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Kay,” Sean responded, pushing the second shot of Jameson’s out of her reach.

  “I didn’t ask if it was a good idea. I said, I want to see him,” Kasey sounded more determined than the first time she made the demand.