Fiona laughed softly. "Yes, we'll be stayin'. The bride wants us to cut the cake and help serve." She reached out and drew the covers up to Keely's chin. "Now, lay yourself down and go to sleep. And may you dream of angels."

"But what about my father?" Keely blurted out. "You always said you'd tell me when I was older and now I'm older. I'm almost thirteen and thirteen is a teenager. And a teenager is old enough to know about her father."

Fiona McClain stared down at her hands, twisted around the dish towel in her lap. "I've already told you. Your father died in a terrible accident at sea and he-"

"No," Keely interrupted. "Tell me about him. What was he like? Was he handsome? Or funny?"

"He was very handsome," Fiona said, a reluctant smile touching her lips. "He was the most handsome boy in all of County Cork. All the girls in Ballykirk were taken with him. But he was from a poor family and my family had a bit of money. My da didn't want me to marry him. They called him a 'culchie,' a country boy, although we lived in the country, too. But they thought he was lower class."

"But you married him anyway," Keely said, "because you loved him."

"He didn't have two pennies to rub together, but he had such grand dreams. Finally, I convinced my da that I couldn't live without him and he gave us his blessing."

"What else?" Keely asked.

"What else?"

"What did he like to do? What was he good at?"

"He liked to tell stories," Fiona said. "Your da could tell such stories. He had a silver tongue, he did. That's how he courted me, with his stories."

This was something new! Keely felt an instant connection to the man she'd never seen. She loved stories and all her friends told her she was good at telling them. "Do you remember any of the stories? Can you tell me one?"