Humming along with the rolling voices of several men passing by her window, Molly McFinn set to drying the last of the clean dishes in her washtub with a swipe of a thick cloth. Breathing in the smells of oil soap and water, the young woman smiled at the words floating on the light afternoon winds. Glad tidings passed back and forth between the revelers, seeming to fill every corner of her simple cottage. Molly shook her capcloth-covered head in amusement, seeing her young Rob try to burble the words, as he sat on the homespun rug in front of the open door.

Singing along with the increasing song, a woman in a festive summer dress looked over at Molly's open door. "Molly? Molly! Where are ye at, me girl," she shouted.

Molly ambled over to the window, sticking her umber-haired head out to reply. "Where I should be, Tarrie Conner! I'm doing my chores!"

Her red-haired friend planted her hands on her hips. With a touch of friendly disgust in her dark eyes, Tarrie commented, "Och, don't be tellin' me that yer working on a day like t'day? Everyone in Cricketvale is gathering in the clearing!"

"And I'm quite aware of that, Tarrie," Molly smiled. "I just don't chose to go right this minute. I have to get my house in order before anything else."

Tarrie shook her head. "Suit yerself, me girl, but don't tarry too long. Ye'll miss the dancing and all the revelry if all you've a mind to do is toil over yer house," she stated.

A small smile stole over Molly's face. "Don't you worry, Tarrie. I'll be along shortly," she replied, turning back to her dishes.

With a shrug, Tarrie turned and started to walk away. "Fine, then! I'll be seein' you at the festival then!" With that, she joined the local miller and his sons, and was gone with the rest of the throng.

Holding her last dish up to check for any missed specks, Molly nodded with a satisfied smile and placed it on the overhead shelf with the others. "There!" she said, brushing down the front of her apron and skirts briskly. "Others may forgo the day's toil, but I'll be damned eternal if I let those dishes go untouched." She rubbed her hands dry before looking around the main room of the simple cottage that was her home.

She then remembered something: the pot sitting on the fire. Walking towards the hearth, she said to herself, "I hope that stew hasn't overcooked!" Bending over with a hook to lift the lid, she also produced a spoon to stir the aromatic contents. She then scooped up a small amount, blowing on it before she sipped the thick broth with her black eyes closed in anticipation. Smacking her lips, she sighed in relief. "Perfect! Molly, me girl, you've done it again!"

Replacing both lid and spoon, she straightened up and started towards the back of the house.

On the rug, Young Rob chuckled as his mother swept by him. Reaching out with his chubby hands, he nearly snagged the edge of her skirt.

"Och, you wee imp," Molly mock-scolded as she paused. Reaching down, she swooped Rob up into her arms and swung him around, listening to his squeal of laughter with pride. "Ah, my bonny lad! Yuir turnin' into a fine, chubby rabbit, you are!" Tickling his chin earned her another delighted giggle, just before she cuddled him close to her bosom. "And yuir father would be very happy to see how much you've grown over the year."

A soft rap on the door sill interrupted any further talk. Turning around, Molly's eyes lit up at the sight of a tall, dark-skinned girl standing there. "Ah, Talequa! Come inside, child! `Tis good to see you again."

"It is good to see you, Miss," Talequa replied, her bright teeth filling her mouth like pearls in a mocha sea. The girl was a bond servant to a man that once sailed the oceans of the world, and she now lived with him in Cricketvale since he had retired from the sea. "How is your young one today?"

With a laugh, Molly held Rob out to the girl, barely holding onto him as he squirmed in her grip; delighted to see his favorite nursemaid. "I'd say he's in fine fettle today."

The girl gently took Rob into her arms, making cooing sounds as he quickly latched on to a couple of her thin braids. "He is a fine boy, Miss," she said lightly. Looking up at Molly, she asked, "You do not mind my watching him this night?"

Molly nodded. "You've been so helpful with all of the village children, child. Of course I don't mind." She motioned to where a small chair sat before the fireplace. "I was worried that I would have to take Rob to the festival with me, and he's far too young to appreciate such a celebration at his age now."

Talequa nodded, understanding the older woman's words. She gingerly set herself on the chair, rearranging her colorful native skirt as she moved Rob to a more comfortable position. "Will Miss be staying long at the festival?"

Removing her apron, Molly answered, "Not too late, child. While some people may have the constitution for staying out all the wee hours of the night, I still have to consider my work come the dawn." She tossed the garment over another chair, stepping quickly towards the entrance to the back. "Now, I just need to change, so I won't be gone but for just a moment, child."

Not too long afterwards, as the girl entertained Rob with a game of sparkly stones on the rug, Molly emerged from the back. Going to stand before a small piece of polished steel on the wall, she took a moment to adjust the fit of her clothing before speaking to Talequa.

"Well, what do you think, child?" Molly turned this way and that, the late sun streaming through the window catching the vibrant colors of her dress. It bore deep blue coloring along the front and all over the skirts, with a tawny tan color on the sleeves and sides of the upper part. A small leather corset in a similar shade of tan cinched up her waist, and a cloth belt in blue encircled low on her hips.

Talequa looked up from the game, her eyes widening as she took in Molly's festive dress. "Miss… you look lovely!"

Beaming, Molly turned around to examine the back, then she faced forward again to brush her fingers over her braided hair. "Good! Though the festival comes around once in a turn of the seasons, one doesn't go to one without looking their best."

"As you say, Miss," Talequa replied. She didn't attend the local festivals, as her belief in the All-Mighty Prophet forbade it.

Molly brushed her fingers over the fabric, looking at her reflection for one more moment before she turned to face the dark-skinned girl. "Now, be sure Rob is abed by sundown. I've got a stew prepared for your meal, sitting on the hearth, and if you need drink, a bucket of water is over there on the table."

Talequa nodded. "Thank you, Miss."

"No, thank you child," Molly replied. "Tonight is…rather special, and I'd be in a terrible bind if you weren't here to help. I must remember to thank Angus come tomorrow."

"Thanks are not needed, Miss," Talequa countered, pausing only long enough to stop Rob from stuffing one of the stones into his mouth. "I am honored to serve."

Molly laid one pale hand on the girl's dusky shoulder. "Still, it is good that you do such service to someone such as me." Sighing, the dark-haired woman looked out the window, taking note of the waning sun. "Ach! I have to go!" Molly knelt down to sweep her young son into a quick hug. "Now, you behave for Talequa, my son."

Rob burbled something, smiling at his mother as she set him back down again.

"I will take good care of the boy, Miss," Talequa said with a soft smile. "Enjoy yourself at the festival."

"That I shall, me girl," Molly said as she turned towards the door. With a final wave from the stoop, she added, "I'll be back shortly after moonrise."

As the sun dipped slowly behind the high hills and forest tops, men walked the borders of the gather-site with torches and touched the braziers set there to provide light for the revelers.

It was a fine festival indeed. Open pits and a low stone stove provided food enough for all, while filling the air with the heady scents of cooked meats and crisp breads. Several booths with games of chance stood alongside a table where the elder men of the village played more challenging games of risk. A small theater displayed comical shows for the younger children. A company of brightly dressed puppets delighted all with tales of creatures from far off lands and heroes bold and wise.

A square of bare earth sat in the center of it all, lit all around with hanging lamps on ropes. Here, couples whirled and jigged as a quartet of musicians added pipe and fiddle to the natural sounds of the evening. Laughter, too, rang out into the air as the dancers moved to the sounds of the reel, as well as from the corners of the square. Here and there, amid groups of men and women on stools, several stout kegs provided liquid libations for anyone that presented an empty cup.

Walking about on her own, Molly smiled and greeted each and every friend that stopped to wish her well. Some of the younger men – eager and anxious – offered her food, drink and dance, but Molly turned them all down with a tolerant look on her face.

Just then, Tarrie appeared in a swirl of scarlet hair and embroidered cloth. Her hands wound their fingers around those of Will Pouge, the village smith. The girl was red about the cheeks, and her laughter sang out like a bell to mingle with the tenor voice of her companion.

"Molly! There you are," she cried out, all but dragging the heavy-made smith behind her as she made her way to Molly's side. "Not a moment late, I see!"

"Despite all my chores," Molly chuckled ruefully, nodding in greeting to Will.

"Oh, Molly, you have tae come dancing wi' us," Tarrie said breathlessly. "Duncan has been asking around for ye, seein' if ye will honor him wi' a turn on the soil."

Molly sighed. It was just like the other lads, except for the fact Duncan McDermott was the most handsome man in all of Cricketvale – so women like Tarrie reported.

"He was most insistent, Molly," Will said, his face cracking with smile that made his fire-reddened cheeks swell like apples.

"Oh, to be sure," Molly replied. "But, I'm not in the mood for dancing just now."

Tarrie frowned a little. "Molly McFinn…don't ye be sayin' that yer not going to even give Duncan just one dance!?"

Giving her friend a wan smile, Molly replied, "If he asks, he only runs the risk of my sayin' `no,' now does he?" She gripped Will on his brawny forearm before she started to walk away. "I best be moving along now, my friends. Do forgive me…I just need a little time for myself this night." In a twinkling, she left Tarrie and Will behind in the crowd, as she picked up her skirts and headed for the edge of the clearing.

Coming to a stop near one of the braziers, Molly let out an expansive sigh. Looking over her shoulder, she took in the revelers at play; lingering over the couples on the dance square as the music shifted into a slower-paced piece. Bodies once separated by air now closed with one another. The air of the evening took on a decisively romantic feel, as shoulders became resting places for heads, eager to listen to the sounds of the hearts beneath.

With a sad smile Molly turned back, leaning against a tree nearby as she crossed her arms over her bosom. Feeling a mist of tears starting to form in her eyes, she closed them as she swayed slightly to the sound of the music.

Then, with a whisper of air, someone stepped out from the trees to stand at her side. "Molly?"

A smile softened her lips. "I knew you would come," she whispered. Turning around, she took in the tall figure standing there. "And you didn't disappoint me, Dugan."

The face of the blonde-haired man grinned gently. "How could I ever miss this night, my dear Molly? We've never missed a summer festival before…"

"Aye," Molly breathed, reaching out to straighten the front of his simple vest and tunic. "And we should not miss this one." Glancing over at the dance square, she smiled when the piper started a familiar tune. Holding out her arms, she beckoned towards the open space between the trees. "Dance with me, Dugan?" With a nod, Dugan took her into his arms and guided her into the clear. Together, as the other musicians added their instruments to the melody, the two reached out to clasp each other's hand.

Molly and Dugan moved in a circle around one of the braziers. The light cast their paired shadow up against the tree tops, where the branches blended them together as one. She looked up at his rugged face, smiling through shimmering eyes as he returned a warm gaze of his own. The light of the brazier reflected off of his amber eyes, making them glow like molten gold.

"How are things in your life, Molly-dearest," he asked softly.

Molly ducked her head slightly. "Och… well as can be expected. Young Rob is growing like a rabbit. The house is needing' some repairs, but we stay dry when the rains come."

"Ah, my love," Dugan laughed. "Sometimes you worry over the least little thing! Tonight is not a night for muddling your head with cares." Reaching up, he cupped her cheek with one palm and sighed. "Molly-dearest, let us enjoy this time together…"

With sparkling eyes, she looked up at him and nodded. "Aye…for as long as we have before us." With that, they spun slowly into a new circle, content to dance the night away…

Richer than the summer sun, sweet as heather in the air

It weaves a golden spider web, into her unbound hair

And the summer rolls along

Down through the valley.

Looking through the window, Dugan smiled at the sleeping form of his son, lying curled in a light blanket in the ornate crib he'd made for Rob two summers ago. A short distance away, Talequa dozed before the fire in the high backed chair that had once been his.

"They look…peaceful," he whispered, placing one hand over Molly's as she clung to his arm, leaning against his side.

Molly replied, "She's been a boon to me, love. With out her help, I'd have never managed so long alone."

With a sigh, the two turned away from the window, walking arm in arm through the small garden that graced the one side of the house. The plants and shrubs all around them lay under a fine misting of forming dew. The light from the waning moon turned each drop into a small point of silver, giving the whole place a feeling of other-worldly beauty.

Molly leaned her head on Dugan's shoulder, sighing deeply.

"What troubles you now, Molly-dearest," he asked.

Her arms and throat tightened slightly. "Tonight has just been so perfect," she said, pausing to get past the knot in her chest that had swiftly formed there. "I…I just don't want it to end."

Smiling, Dugan turned her around so he could hold her close to his chest. "Ah, love. You know nothing lasts forever. It was only by graces that I was able to come back to you these past years."

Molly felt her will start to crumble. "But it's not fair…I don't want to lose you again. Not now that I've held you in my arms for one more night." Unable to stop herself, the tears that threatened to form earlier when the left the festival grounds now fell down her cheeks. A breath hitched in her chest.

Dugan bent his head down to rest on top of hers, placing one hand on her head to stroke her hair. "I'd be lying if I said I want to go, Molly…nothing would please me more but to stay and be father to my Rob and husband to you once more. But we both know that can never be."

Molly nodded, trying not to sniffle. "It is so unfair!"

Dugan let a sad frown drape over his features, before he forced a smile, reaching down to tilt Molly's face up to meet his. "True. But let this comfort you, love; we won't be apart for very long."

"W-what?" She blinked her eyes furiously against the flow of tears.

"Well, not that soon," Dugan chuckled ruefully. "You have a long life ahead of you, Molly McFinn. You have a fine son to bring up into the world, and a lot more to do before that day comes. But when that day arrives…I'll be there to welcome you home."

Molly bobbed her head. "I understand, dearest. I just wish…"

"I know," Dugan replied. Looking up, he noticed the gentle brightening of the eastern sky. "Molly, you are never far from my heart. Even where I am now, I feel your love and all of your joys and sorrows. No matter what happens in the years ahead, I'll always be close to you." He reached down to trace one fingertip over her heart, before pulling her close once more in a fierce hug.

Clutching at him with equal emotion, Molly sobbed, "I've never stopped loving you, Dugan McFinn!"

"And I'll never stop loving you," Dugan whispered. With a firm hand, he pulled them apart so he could look into her tear-streaked face once more. With a sad, yet smiling face, he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. Eagerly, she closed her eyes and accepted the kiss, feeling the tingling warmth of a dozen summers in a brief contact that seemed to last for ages.

"Good bye, Molly-dearest," Dugan whispered. No more words followed.

Molly slowly opened her eyes, looking towards the east as the sky began to turn from dark blue to light violet. Folding her empty arms about herself, she could feel the lingering presence of Dugan against her skin. No longer completely sad, she calmed herself by breathing deeply, taking in the early morning scents of the garden around her.

Looking down, she smiled fondly at the small stone at her feet. It had been a small extravagance to have it made, but she wanted it all those years ago…and not even the vicar could change her mind. Kneeling to brush her fingers over the small letters inscribed there, watching them emerge from under the dew into the morning light:

DUGAN MCFINN

FATHER AND HUSBAND

"Good bye, my husband," Molly sighed, leaving her hand on the stone for a moment more. Then, getting back to her feet slowly, she gathered her skirts and minced her way back towards the house. Daybreak would be coming, and she needed to get back to her son…

THE END

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