The next morning, Eamon and Catriona ate breakfast and went outside. Eamon saddled Niamh and held her head while Catriona put her foot in the stirrup.

            She swing herself lightly into the saddle and spread her skirts over her legs. "Give me the reins, Eamon. It's been a while, but I still remember how to ride." She stroked Niamh's neck, then clucked to the horse and started off at a walk.

            Eamon watched her for a moment, then turned to the wall of the shed. There were rocks scattered at the base of the wall. Eamon stared at the rocks, kicked a few, and picked up one. He placed it in a crevice in the wall, making sure that it fit snugly where he had put it. He picked up another and placed it carefully. Sure, this is going to take a long time. Eamon wrinkled his nose as he picked up the next stone.

            Catriona galloped by on Niamh, hair streaming behind her. Her mouth was open as if she were laughing, and Eamon smiled as he saw how young it made her look. Catriona raced around the house a few times, then brought Niamh to a halt beside Eamon.

            "She's wonderful, Eamon!" Catriona slid off the mare and threw her arms around her nephew.

            Eamon laughed at her reaction. "Tá, she is wonderful," he agreed, "and she's ours now." He bent to pick up another stone. Catriona put Niamh back in the shed and rejoined Eamon at the wall.

            "Let me help you," she said. "Your uncle and I built this shed. It's only fair that I should be helping you rebuild it."

            Eamon grinned as he balanced a stone carefully. "I'd be glad of the help."

            Eamon and Catriona worked until noon, then stopped for a lunch of bread and tea.

            "Would you ever be wanting English tea?" Eamon asked thoughtfully, wrapping his hands around his cup. I could buy some - or take some from the next peddler who comes by.

            Catriona sipped her tea and pursed her lips. "It's weaker than the tea we drink, so it'd not be as filling. Impractical, I'd say. Níl, I don't think I'd be wanting English tea. Cén fáth?"

            "Oh, níl fhios agam," Eamon said lightly. "I was just thinking, that's all."

            "Well, you'd best stop thinking of such outlandish things as English tea!" Catriona giggled.

            Eamon was taken aback for a moment at Catriona's sudden exuberance. Perhaps having Niamh is what made the change. He nodded, smiling to cover his confusion.

            "Do you know what I would be wanting?" Catriona spoke softly now, staring out over the fields. "Lace...I'd like something with lace on it." She fingered the ends of her shawl as though she were feeling the fine lace on a garment.

            Eamon nodded slowly. "I could buy some the next time I go to Attymass."

            "Don't be doing anything brash," Catriona warned. "If I know you, you'll be getting yourself in trouble just trying to buy me lace."

            You don't know half of the trouble I could be getting into. Eamon drank the last of his tea and stood. "I should have been named trioblóide," he said lightly, using the Gaelic word for trouble. Catriona snorted and started to laugh.

            "What is it?" Eamon asked curiously, a frown forming on his face when his aunt didn't answer right away.

            Catriona laughed harder and held a hand to her side. "I...I was thinking..." She said between gasps, "...if you'd been named Trouble...when you were younger...I'd have to be telling people that I was always...looking for Trouble!"

            Eamon cocked his head to one side. Why is that funny? He started to feign a laugh, then the humor of his aunt's words struck him. His laughter was genuine as he picked up a stone to place on the wall. "You always found what you were looking for," he said thoughtfully. "I couldn't ever run very far before you found me."

            Catriona giggled, searching for a place to put the stone she was holding. "It helped that there was nowhere for you to run but Tadhg's house."

            Eamon grunted. "You'd think I'd have been smarter than to run there, but I did some stupid things when I was younger."

            "Everyone does stupid things when they're young, Eamon. And when they're older, too."

            Eamon avoided Catriona's gaze and focused on the wall. Is wanting to be a highwayman stupid? I can't be asking her that. He pressed on a stone too hard and the stones beneath it tumbled to the ground. "Stupid things like that," he muttered.

***

            Eamon and Catriona's work on the wall progressed throughout the day. By evening, they had the wall built up almost to the thatch.

            Catriona stood back from the shed, hands on her hips. "That's a good day's work, Eamon. Tomorrow we'll finish and re-thatch the roof." She ducked inside the shed and began petting Niamh.

            Eamon stifled a yawn as he turned from the shed. "I'll go build up the fire," he volunteered and walked slowly towards the house, listening to Catriona murmuring softly to Niamh. He picked up a few squares of peat from the hearth and placed them on the fire, waiting to make sure the earth started to burn. He found the kettle and threw some herbs in the water, then hung the kettle over the fire.

            By this time, Catriona had returned to the house. She checked the kettle and brought out a bit of cheese. As she sat down at the table, she put a hand to her back and grunted.

            Eamon remembered that Catriona was not as young as she looked. He rested his hand on her arm. "You didn't have to help me with the shed, antín."

            Catriona frowned. "Nonsense! Of course I did! I can't let you be doing everything yourself, Eamon." She reached out to break the cheese into two pieces, but Eamon stopped her.

            "Let me." He quickly broke off a piece of cheese for both of them. "You've done enough for today."

            Catriona smiled. "Go raibh maith agat," she said softly. "I'm proud of you, Eamon."

            Without answering, Eamon took the kettle off the hearth and poured two cups of tea. He handed one to Catriona and seated himself again. You wouldn't be proud if you knew what I was going to do tonight. He drank his tea slowly, letting it warm his body.

            Catriona set her cup down with an air of finality. "It's tired I am."

            "You go to bed," Eamon urged. "I'll take care of everything." He gestured to the cups and the hearth.

            Catriona nodded. "Again, thank you." She went to her corner of the house. Eamon waited for several minutes, then began tidying up the space around the table and hearth. He put the cups away and banked the fire with more peat so it would not go out during the night.

            The work done, Eamon sat at the table until he was sure Catriona would be asleep. Then he stole over to his bed and took his pistols from under the mattress. He pulled on his coat and crept quietly out the door.

***

            Eamon rode up the path to the Kavanagh cottage, pistols stuck in his belt beneath his coat.

            Delma poked her head outside, disappeared, and Tadhg appeared at the door soon after. "Eamon? What are you doing?"

            Eamon paused, biting his lip. Should I tell him? "Tadhg...I'm going out on the highway tonight."

            Tadhg frowned. "Is that why you bought the horse?"

            "Tá," Eamon answered simply, fiddling with the reins.

            "And that's why you were needing to learn to ride?"

            Eamon nodded, not meeting Tadhg's eyes. "I thought you should be knowing if...if I don't come back some night."

            Tadhg shook his head, still frowning. "Let me come with you, Eamon. You'll be needing more than one person."

            Eamon raised an eyebrow. "You've no weapons."

            "And you've got two," Tadhg pointed out, eyeing the pistols in Eamon's belt. "Let me use one."

            Eamon pulled his coat tighter, obscuring the pistols. "You don't have to come with me."

            Tadhg put his hand on Niamh's bridle. "I want to come with you. Remember when we used to pretend we were soldiers? This is as close as we'll get to being soldiers."

            Eamon scoffed. "Sure, and it's as far from being soldiers, too! Tadhg, I don't want you to be putting yourself in danger because of me. Think of Aisling!"

            "I am - I'm thinking of how to provide for her." Tadhg set his jaw stubbornly.

            Eamon exhaled, pursing his lips. "If you're sure...then...you can come." I hope I'm not doing the wrong thing. "Meet me at Fallon's Oak."

            Tadhg nodded. "I'll be there soon." He turned to go back inside the cottage.

            Eamon stared at the warm glow coming from inside the cottage, listening to the Kavanagh family. Delma's laugh rang out over the sound of her family's talking. Eamon almost called Tadhg back to tell him that he had changed his mind. Why would he risk throwing all that away?

            Eamon rode to Fallon's Oak. Sprouted in the middle of an abandoned house that had belonged to a man named Fallon, the tree was now the largest in the area. Parts of the house still stood, overshadowed by the long branches of the Oak. It was the perfect place to hold a secret meeting.

            Eamon urged Niamh over the shortest part of the wall and into the shadows. He dismounted and climbed into the oak tree. Whatever happens, I've got to be keeping Tadhg safe.

            Hoofbeats sounded on the road, and Eamon froze, praying that Niamh would stay quiet. He could see the rider approaching the house until the shadow of the trees blocked his view. He rested a hand on his pistol.

            "Eamon?" Tadhg called softly.

            Eamon let out his breath and slid out of the tree, causing Tadhg to jerk back in surprise as he bit back a curse. "Oh, it's you."

            Eamon chuckled. "I wish it had been light. Your face would have been a sight." He took a pistol out of his belt and handed it to Tadhg. "I'll be wanting that back."

            Tadhg was running his fingers over the barrel of the pistol. "I'll be keeping it safe for you." Eamon mounted Niamh and the two men rode away from Fallon's Oak, taking the road towards Killasser.

            "Eamon, what happens if no one comes on the road tonight?" Tadhg asked as they eased behind some bushes at the side of the road.

            Eamon shifted in his saddle and grunted. He'd been thinking of that, too. "We'll just hope for better luck the next night," he shrugged.

            "So we won't ever be knowing whether there'll be people to rob?"

            "Níl." The more Eamon thought about his plan, the more he doubted it was a good plan.

            Tadhg groaned. "You couldn't have thought this out a little more before dragging me out here?"

            Eamon laughed shortly. "You're the one who was begging to come with me. And have I ever been one to think things out?"

            "Come to think of it, you haven't," Tadhg said lightly. "But I'm wishing you were."

            Me too. I'll have to be doing better about planning. "Well, I can't be doing anything about it now. You're welcome to go home, if that's what you're wanting to do now."

            "What? No, I was just giving you a hard time!" Tadhg protested. "I'm already out here, so I might as well stay with you."

            "If you're going to be staying, shut your mouth. Those men who robbed us the other night? We didn't know they were there until they fired a gun."

            "Sorry." Tadhg stayed quiet for half a second, then spoke again. "I won't say anything else-"

            "Then don't!"

            "Sorry."

***

            After several hours of waiting and an hour of fighting off yawns, Eamon finally decided that he and Tadhg were wasting their time. "Let's be going home," he said roughly, already urging Niamh onto the road.

            Tadhg caught up with Eamon and asked, "Will we be coming back tomorrow night?"

            "Níl fhios agam," Eamon answered shortly. "I'll come get you if I ride out."

            The two men parted ways at the Kavanagh cottage. Eamon slowed Niamh as they neared his house, hoping that if he rode slowly, Niamh would make less noise.

            The cottage was dark as Eamon unsaddled Niamh and made his way inside, taking off his boots by the door. He slipped into bed quietly, yawning sleepily. His last thought before sleep overtook him was, There must be some way of knowing who'll be on the roads...some way so that we won't waste any more time.

***

Cén fáth - Why?

Níl fhios agam - I don't know.

Trioblóide - trouble