Haunted Ground by Irina Shapiro Page A

in tears.  She was so ashamed and stung by what Jasper had said about her. 
    “Did he hurt you?”  Brendan gazed into her eyes, his face full of kindness and sympathy, which made her feel even worse.
    Rowan just shook her head.  She’d already forgotten about Jasper’s clumsy advances, but the words rankled.  Was she really ugly?  What if he was right and no man would want her when the time came?  There were two women in their village who never married, and everyone always felt sorry for them, saying they’d been unlucky in life and a burden to their families.  Was that to be her fate? 
    Rowan was distracted by the sound of the violin as old Mr. Graham tuned his fiddle in preparation for the dancing.  She loved to dance, but at the moment she wanted to just go off somewhere and be alone.  Who’d want to dance with her?  She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she barely noticed Brendan studying her, a slow smile spreading across his face. 
    “You know, I have a mind to dance.  Would you do me the honor?  I wager dancing with the prettiest girl will make all the other lasses take notice of me.”  He was grinning at her and Rowan thought that all the girls at the party already took notice of him and were probably scheming to get his attention and an invitation to dance, and here he was, asking her.  Brendan held out his hand to her and Rowan took it, enjoying the feel of his large hand closing around hers and making her feel safe and wanted.  She followed him back to the yard, her heart thumping in time to the music.  Maybe he was just feeling sorry for her, but she didn’t care.  She certainly wasn’t the prettiest girl, but he was the handsomest lad, and right now she was the happiest girl in the world.

 
    The Present
     

Chapter 15
     
    The last hint of fuchsia faded from the summer sky as darkness finally settled on the meadow, thousands of stars shimmering in the clear velvety sky.  A half-moon that looked like a slice of a juicy apple hung just above the treetops as it slowly began to ascend into the starlit expanse above us. 
    I stared into the leaping flames, mesmerized by the orange and crimson tongues that darted between the bits of wood, licking, caressing, and ultimately devouring everything in its path.  The wood crackled, sending a shower of sparks into the night and making my face feel suddenly hot.  Only a half hour ago, I could still make out the shape of tables and dressers that Aidan’s men had dragged to the hill, but now the individual pieces were indistinguishable from one another in the pyre.  I’d spent the better part of the day administering red stickers, and now the house looked strangely empty after room after room had been cleaned out entirely.  I did come across a few nice pieces which I decided to keep, but most of the late Mrs. Hughes’s possessions were consigned to the flames. 
    I could see the dark outline of the house against the navy-blue sky, the twin peaks of the pitched roof solid and symmetrical in their beauty; the numerous windows currently dark, the square panes of glass reflecting nothing but the nighttime sky.  I’d run out to the shops while the furniture was being removed to get something for our bonfire picnic.  It was my first solo foray into the village, and I walked up the street, looking at storefronts which were already closed for the night.  Thankfully, the grocery store was still open, so I ducked in, grabbed a shopping basket and quickly tossed in some bread, cheese, ham, fruit, and some breakfast essentials.  My next project was to clean the old stove and start cooking for myself.  I couldn’t live on canned food for long.
    The woman at the counter cast curious looks my way as I made my way down the narrow isle and finally arrived at the cash register with my shopping, tossing in a couple of bags of chips that were prominently displayed by the counter.  How could I have forgotten chips? 
    “Will that be all,