GypsyGirl84
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When Maria Kathleen Fitzpatrick (named after both her grandmothers) introduced herself by her full name, people often gave her a second look. Not that she could blame them. She certainly didn't look Irish. But when she told people in the college town of Meagher, Missouri, nestled on the shores of the Lake of the Ozarks, that she was related to the Fitzpatricks, founders of the city of Meagher as well as the college that would become the University of Missouri at Meagher, they would give her a third and fourth look, and again she couldn't blame them. The Meagher clan, which still owned the largest amount of privately owned land (and all of it contiguous) in Missouri, was primarily made up of fair skinned individuals, and had more than its fair share of blondes and redheads.
Maria's distinctly non-Irish appearance derived from the fact that her grandfather married the daughter of a Mexican migrant in 1961. This had initially caused the ostracization of her branch of the family from her great-grandfather, but eventually her great-grandmother engineered the reconciliation of father and son.
In a lot of ways, Maria was atypical of the Fitzpatricks of her generation. She absolutely loved wandering the Fitzpatrick acreage, from the isolated beaches to the wooded hills that had more than a handful of caves to explore. It seemed like she had learned how to ride a horse before she could walk, and she had been her grandfather's constant fishing companion since she was four.
As she hit her teen years, she discovered boys, but that didn't mean she gave up her love for all things involving the great outdoors. And though she was something of a flirt, she had never let a boy touch her anywhere except above the waist, and always outside her clothes. And boys might complain, but they never pushed. Maria was the youngest of four children, and both her father and her three older brothers, not to mention her grandfather, were not men anyone wanted to cross.
Two days after her eighteenth birthday, a particularly overcast autumn day found Maria pulling her favorite cousin, her best friend really, around the property. There was an old but solidly built barn located some distance from the main house. The cousins had stepped into the barn just as the clouds parted and a downpour commenced. Maria just laughed and pulled out her cellphone, calling her great-aunt in the main house (her cousin's grandmother) and telling her the two cousins were stuck in the barn until it stopped raining, and that they would stay put.
Maria grabbed her cousin's hand and tugged her up the ladder that led to the hayloft. As Maria did so, she pondered her cousin. Maria thought the other girl was pretty, lovely really, in the classic Irish fashion of most of the Fitzpatrick women. But her cousin was always withdrawn into herself, always hiding behind her hair. It usually fell to Maria to protect her cousin, but Maria didn't mind. Maria loved her cousin dearly.
Maria took off her red plaid shirt, revealing a black top underneath. Standing in front of the open hayloft door, she took a deep breath and turned back to her cousin, a wide grin on her face. "Doesn't it feel great out here?" Maria asked.
When Maria Kathleen Fitzpatrick (named after both her grandmothers) introduced herself by her full name, people often gave her a second look. Not that she could blame them. She certainly didn't look Irish. But when she told people in the college town of Meagher, Missouri, nestled on the shores of the Lake of the Ozarks, that she was related to the Fitzpatricks, founders of the city of Meagher as well as the college that would become the University of Missouri at Meagher, they would give her a third and fourth look, and again she couldn't blame them. The Meagher clan, which still owned the largest amount of privately owned land (and all of it contiguous) in Missouri, was primarily made up of fair skinned individuals, and had more than its fair share of blondes and redheads.
Maria's distinctly non-Irish appearance derived from the fact that her grandfather married the daughter of a Mexican migrant in 1961. This had initially caused the ostracization of her branch of the family from her great-grandfather, but eventually her great-grandmother engineered the reconciliation of father and son.
In a lot of ways, Maria was atypical of the Fitzpatricks of her generation. She absolutely loved wandering the Fitzpatrick acreage, from the isolated beaches to the wooded hills that had more than a handful of caves to explore. It seemed like she had learned how to ride a horse before she could walk, and she had been her grandfather's constant fishing companion since she was four.
As she hit her teen years, she discovered boys, but that didn't mean she gave up her love for all things involving the great outdoors. And though she was something of a flirt, she had never let a boy touch her anywhere except above the waist, and always outside her clothes. And boys might complain, but they never pushed. Maria was the youngest of four children, and both her father and her three older brothers, not to mention her grandfather, were not men anyone wanted to cross.
Two days after her eighteenth birthday, a particularly overcast autumn day found Maria pulling her favorite cousin, her best friend really, around the property. There was an old but solidly built barn located some distance from the main house. The cousins had stepped into the barn just as the clouds parted and a downpour commenced. Maria just laughed and pulled out her cellphone, calling her great-aunt in the main house (her cousin's grandmother) and telling her the two cousins were stuck in the barn until it stopped raining, and that they would stay put.
Maria grabbed her cousin's hand and tugged her up the ladder that led to the hayloft. As Maria did so, she pondered her cousin. Maria thought the other girl was pretty, lovely really, in the classic Irish fashion of most of the Fitzpatrick women. But her cousin was always withdrawn into herself, always hiding behind her hair. It usually fell to Maria to protect her cousin, but Maria didn't mind. Maria loved her cousin dearly.
Maria took off her red plaid shirt, revealing a black top underneath. Standing in front of the open hayloft door, she took a deep breath and turned back to her cousin, a wide grin on her face. "Doesn't it feel great out here?" Maria asked.
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