| The Weaver's Daughter Page 2 |
| As the apple season progressed, Maire and Bowman began ta exchange a smile from time ta time, and then a word or two. So sparse was their conversation, one would think they hardly noticed each other, were that the only communication. But their eyes.....ah their eyes. If her eyes were nae on him, then his were on her.....and when by chance their glances met, 'twas as though they shared a single soul. |
| Maire had niver imagined such a feelin. Somethin deep inside her seemed ta know when Bowman was near. She would turn from her work in the orchard or the meadow and find him near. Often she would arrive ta find him there before her, apparently gatherin in the choicest spots.....only ta have him move away and silently indicate that she was ta take his place. She soon realized that at such times he had gathered nae atall, or only a token, and must have been 'claimin' that spot ta keep others away until she arrived. |
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One bright day Bowman came after she did.......he spoke ta others as he casually made his way through the orchard toward her. Her basket was full .... as she turned ta start homeward, Bowman passed close. He tipped his cap politely...... then snatched an apple from her basket with a laugh. She couldnae stop the smile that sprang ta her lips, nor the happy laughter that bubbled out as she saw the look in his eyes. He was teasin her! Aye, he was teasin, but there was the quick flash of somethin akin ta fear and she knew without thinkin that he didnae want ta anger nor offend her. Her laughter was part mirth, part joy at his teasin, and part meant ta reassure him that she enjoyed and approved the joke. Fer herself, her heart sang with a sudden all-consumin joy......and nae fer the first time when he was about, she felt an embarassin dampness, though the day was nae over-warm. |
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| Though she wasnae consciously aware of it, Maire soon came ta rely on Bowman's presence. Even when they didnae speak, somethin inside the girl became more 'settled' when Bowman was near. But then one day he didnae come, and Maire became restless and agitated. When she finally connected his absence with her disquiet, she chided herself fer foolishness and reasoned that as she and some others had moved on ta the berries in the meadow, mayhap he wasnae finished with the orchard. Smilin quietly, she remembered that he had left the choicest gatherin ta her, and she felt guilty that his own pantry maight thus be lackin. She determined that somehow on the morrow she would return the favor - mayhap she could 'spill' her apron full of berries inta his basket. But on the morrow, Bowman didnae come.........nor on the day followin, nor the day after that. |
| "Indaid, I went by his house on me way and ye should see! Tis the grandest thing I ever laid me eyes on!" It was a lass from the village gossipin with another and Maire couldnae help hearin. "He's got an oaken door he does, and the best thatchin job in the shire. Why, he could give up bow makin and go ta house buildin and I bet he'd be a rich man in no time - if anybody had any money ta pay, that is!" The girl's peal of laughter at her own joke struck terror inta Maire's heart. |
| "Aye," answered the other, "that Bowman is buildin a fine home fer some lucky wench!" The girl cut her laughter short and turned away when she saw the frozen Mailre lookin in the direction of the gossipin pair. She continued ta whisper, " And did ye hear he ordered a load o' bricks? Jaysus, he must be buildin a manor!" |
| Maire bent ta her work, keepin her head down lest any see the tears that had sprung unbidden ta her eyes. She furiously plucked the tender berries, nae carin if she took good or damaged, nae carin if she bruised the tender flesh as she hurled each inta her cache. She sought only ta fill the basket and thereby create fer herself a reason ta leave the meadow with dignity. |
| "Ye're a damn silly fool!" she raged at herself, wiping furtively at her betrayin eyes. "Ta think such as he could care fer the likes o' ye. What were ye thinkin?! Hah! Ye werenae thinkin, ye were dreamin, that's what ye were doin. And now ye've got yer just deserts fer yer foolishness, fer he's doin just as he oughta and is fixin ta settle down with someone ta build a home, mayhap a family." Maire filled the basket and quickly started home. She had arranged ta finish up at the end o' the field and thereby gain easy access ta the path without havin ta pass close ta the others. Hurryin along, she continued ta castigate herself, realizin fer the first time just how much she had come ta care fer the handsome young craftsman. Til today she had felt love growin without knowin what it was she felt, hardly realizin the change that had come about in herself. Only now did she recognize it fer what it was, fer now her heart was breakin. |
| Reachin her own gate, she thrust it open and once through, turned ta fasten it closed, almost as though she could fasten out the world and its heartbreak. She entered the humble house, hopin nae ta disturb her mothair.....and at the same time needin her mothair in a way she hadnae since she was a wee lass. |
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| Fionna turned from the hearth as the door opened. Fer all that she was nae longer the woman she once had been, she still possessed a mothair's eyes in the back o' her head and a sixth sense where her child was concerned. "Maire! What's wrong, Lass?" The young woman tried ta smile reassurin'ly, but instead dissolved inta tears, finally losin the battle she'd fought since overhearin the chatterin girls in the meadow. Fallin ta her knees beside Fionna's stool, she allowed herself ta be folded inta the maternal embrace and rocked whilst she sobbed and the pain welled up from a depth she didnae know existed. |
| Music: Book of Days |