excerpt
“But I want to get married in church,” Caitlin said. “And I want Padraig to marry us and to bless our union.”
Caitlin’s words filled Michael with anguish. He could say nothing; to do so would have choked him.
“Why are you so quiet, Michael? Don’t you want Padraig to marry us?”
Michael thought he could detect fear or anxiety in her voice. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” was all he could say.
Caitlin was sure then, without asking him, that Michael had given Padraig a beating. She had probably known all along. She was not angry. She was not shocked. She was not even sorry for Padraig. It seemed appropriate, not because Padraig deserved a beating but because he would have wanted one. Padraig craved nothing more than punishment. Unless it was martyrdom.
Michael was struggling to tell Caitlin the whole truth. “It’s too late to be married by Padraig, Caitlin.” He looked away from her, his face contorted by the despair in his heart. “My jealousy has already sent Padraig to meet his maker.”
The torment of Michael came out in his voice. Remorse gripped him, almost strangled him. The words escaped in disjointed phrases.
“Michael! Oh my God, Michael, what have you done?” Caitlin sat up straight and turned to look at the big, yellow-haired farmer who held her so protectively. Was it possible he could kill a man? Was it possible that her own misdeeds could drive this simple, lovable man to such violent extremes? The fear and shame in Caitlin’s eyes met the guilt and remorse in Michael’s and fused into a bond of compassion in the short space between the two anxious faces.
“I killed him, Caitlin.” Michael drew Caitlin towards him again. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I lost my temper. I … Oh my God, Caitlin, what have I done?” He wanted the comfort of holding her, but mostly he wanted to avoid her eyes. The deed he had perpetrated in the heat of anger and jealousy disgusted him now in the cold sweat of remorse and fear.
Caitlin yielded to his desperate embrace. “Poor Padraig. Poor, poor Padraig,” was all she could say. She felt her throat tighten in the clutches of an overpowering sense of sadness, loss and guilt.
“Let’s go home, Michael.” Caitlin moved in an effort to rise. “We have to find out how Padraig is. If he’s dead, our lives are in ruins.”
“I know that, Caitlin,” Michael said contritely. “The thought of it terrifies me.”
Libros Libertad 