Through A Magnolia Filter

“Dolley.” He grabbed her arm. “We had fun. I appreciate your help last weekend.”

She glared at his hand on her arm until he let her go.

“Were you even interested in me?” she asked. “Or did you endure two dates just to get computer help?”

“Dolley, no.” He caught her hand. “Can we still be...friends?”

She had to get away. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry.” Robert, the jerk, looked relieved.

She stepped backward, then hurried into the hallway.

Why did this always happen to her?

That’s it. She was taking a dating break.

Her phone rang as she exited the bathroom. Unknown number. What now? She answered.

“Is this Dolley Fitzgerald?”

“Yes.”

“Congratulations. This is Bridal Party Today. Your photograph won first place in the amateur division of our contest.”

Her heart pounded. “It won?”

“It sure did.”

“My photograph.” She’d entered a picture she’d taken at Mamma’s wedding. She shook her head. “Me?”

“If you’re Dolley Fitzgerald.” The woman on the other end of the call chuckled. “Your picture will be included in our January magazine. I’ll send you interview questions for the article.”

“Sure. Sure.” After confirming her email address, Dolley hung up.

A photograph she’d taken had won. The first contest she’d ever entered. And it was a picture of Mamma dancing with Martin, her groom, at their wedding. Dolley couldn’t stop the grin filling her face. She’d won. Punching the air, she spun in the hallway. Who cared about Robert now?

She rushed out to tell Anne.

Connor and Anne had their heads tucked together. Connor’s younger brother occupied the empty chair at the table.

Her enthusiasm vanished. They wouldn’t understand her excitement. They weren’t the youngest sister of two exceptional siblings. They wouldn’t understand her need to prove herself.

Dolley straightened her shoulders. Spotting an empty chair, she dragged it over to the table. “Hey, Jason. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hi, Dolley. Connor said you were here.” Jason grinned. “How’s my favorite babysitter?”

Lord, she’d babysat Jason. “Apparently old. Are you sure you can drink?”

He flipped out his license. “Legal and everything.”

She forced a smile on her face. This wasn’t the time or place to tell people about her silly contest win. She’d get a copy of the magazine, leave it at the B and B and see if anyone read the article. No one would guess a photography career was her secret dream.

* * *

LIAM CLOSED THE folder on the Fitzgeralds and pushed away from the small desk in his room at the inn. He still hadn’t escaped Kilkee.

Seamus’s long-lost relatives and their location sounded too good to be true. A mother who had started the business and three daughters who ran it now. His godfather had collected enough Savannah travel information that Liam wanted to book a flight tomorrow. Did families like this really exist?

All this reading about family had his muscles tightening. He should walk around town to work off this...anxiousness. Maybe grab one of his godfather’s cameras and head to the bay. He never tired of taking pictures of the sunset on the sea.

Instead, he sat, rolled his shoulders and scrolled through the Fitzgerald and Carleton House bed-and-breakfast website. Someone had a nice hand with the photographs. Dolley Fitzgerald.

He flipped open the file to the picture of the Fitzgeralds and wondered which one she was. Their Irish heritage was evident in their fair skin and red hair. Would they care about letters written years ago?

He checked out pictures of Savannah’s St. Patrick’s Day parade. Clicked on a few links. Savannahians celebrated their Irish roots. And this small city had the second largest St. Patrick’s Day parade in America. Why?

He kept clicking. Found a documentary on the Irish building railroads in Georgia, found other sites touting the Irish regiments in their civil war. Well, his country, too. His father had been an American. Seamus had scorned his dual citizenship. Which made this mission to deliver letters even more puzzling.

But the idea of researching Savannah’s Irish roots...took hold. Dug in. He could stay at the Fitzgerald’s B and B and work in Savannah. Pretend he was part of their family for a time.

Once he finished the voice-overs for his Irish Travellers documentary, he needed a new project. Americans were fascinated with their Irish heritage. Why not create a story around the Irish in Savannah?

He kept searching and didn’t come up for air for an hour. “This might work.”

He could deliver the letters, but he would also get a new project out of the task.

He checked the time. His producer should be in her sleek New York office. When her brisk voice came over his mobile, he leaned back.

“Hallo, Barbara.”

“Liam,” she said. “I’m so sorry about your godfather. How was the funeral?”

“Small.” He cut off any additional sympathy.

“It would still hurt to lose the man who brought you up.” She took a breath. “I’m not pushing, but when do you think you’ll be back in the studio?”

He was done here. “I’ll complete the voice-overs next week.”

“Great.”

Liam stared out at Kilkee Bay. The waves were gentle this evening. So different from the racket in his head. He smiled. “I have a proposal for my next project.”

CHAPTER TWO (#ue4fba30b-9440-516b-938f-f24193d6a2fe)

The single most important component of a camera is the twelve inches behind it.

Ansel Adams