“Da, it’s time for us to get to bed,” Conor said, weary of the same old cautionary tale. “We have school.”

Dylan and Brendan both moaned and rolled their eyes, but Seamus wagged his finger. “Conor is right. Besides, I’ve got a powerful thirst that only a pint of Guinness can quench.” He ruffled their hair, then pushed off the bed and headed toward the front door.

Conor hurried after him. “Da, we need to talk. Can’t you stay in tonight?”

His father waved him off. “You sound like an old woman, Con. Don’t be a nag. We can talk in the morning.” With that, Seamus grabbed his jacket and slipped out into the storm, leaving his son with nothing more than a cold draft and an uneasy shiver. Defeated, Conor turned and walked back to the bedroom. Dylan and Brendan had already climbed into their bunk beds. Conor turned off the lights and flopped down on the mattress in the corner, drawing the blankets up to his chin to ward off the chill.

He was almost asleep when a small voice came out of the darkness. “What was she like, Con?” Brendan asked, repeating a question he’d been asking nearly every night for the past few months.

“Tell us again,” Dylan pleaded. “Tell us about Ma.”

Conor wasn’t sure why they suddenly needed to hear. Maybe they sensed how fragile their life had become, how easily it could all fall apart. “She was a fine and beautiful woman,” Conor said. “Her hair was dark, nearly black like ours. And she had eyes the color of the sea, green and blue put together.”

“I remember the necklace,” Dylan murmured. “She always wore a beautiful necklace that had jewels that sparkled in the light.”

“Tell us about her laugh,” Brendan said. “I like that story.”

“Tell the story about the soda bread, when you fed it to Mrs. Smalley’s wee dog and Ma caught you. I like that one.”

So Conor spun his tale, lulling his brothers to sleep with visions of their mother, the beautiful Fiona Quinn. But unlike his father’s stories, Conor didn’t have to embellish. Every word he spoke was pure truth. And though Conor knew that love for a woman was a sign of weakness and trouble for any Quinn, he didn’t heed his father’s warning. For, in a secret corner of his heart, he’d always love his mother and that would make him strong.