Chapter 22
Kori
The hotel is exactly what you’d expect in a tiny village near the border—dated floral wallpaper, creaky floors, and beds that have seen better decades. But it’s dry and warm, which feels like luxury after the rain-soaked castle grounds.
“Two rooms left,” the elderly proprietor tells Declan when we arrive, dripping puddles onto her worn carpet. “One double, one with two singles.”
After a brief negotiation that I’m too exhausted to follow, we end up with Wren and Declan taking the double room and Kat and me sharing the two singles. With no other room available, I watch as the men settle in the small sitting room downstairs, spreading blankets over worn sofas and armchairs.
Kane catches my eye as I turn to follow Kat upstairs, and something passes between us—a question, maybe, or a promise. My lips still tingle from our kiss in the rain, and I touch them unconsciously as I climb the narrow staircase.
The room Kat and I are sharing is small but clean, with twin beds separated by a nightstand sporting a lamp with a crooked shade. I set my duffel bag on the bed nearest the window and sit down, suddenly aware of how exhausted I am.
“So,” Kat says, closing the door behind us, “you and Kane, huh?”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “What? No, we’re just—”
“Save it,” she interrupts, her tone not unkind. “I saw you two by the window at the castle. The way he was holding you.” She sits on her bed, kicking off her muddy boots. “Kane doesn’t do that—the holding thing. Not with anyone.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I busy myself with unpacking my meager belongings. “We barely know each other,” I finally manage.
“Sometimes that’s better,” Kat says, pulling a brush through her tangled hair. “No history, no baggage. Well, except for the whole ‘my husband cheated with my sister’ thing. And Kane’s ‘my entire identity is a lie’ situation.” She pauses. “Okay, so maybe there’s some baggage.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “Just a little.”
Kat’s expression softens. “Look, I’m not judging. God knows we could all use something good in the middle of this mess. I just...” She hesitates. “Kane’s been through a lot, even before all this Tomas revelation stuff. He doesn’t let people in easily.”
“I’m not trying to get in anywhere,” I protest, though the words feel hollow even to me. “I’m just helping a friend.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Kat asks with a raised eyebrow. “Because that was definitely not a ‘just friends’ embrace I witnessed.”
I sigh, sitting back down on my bed. “I don’t know what it was, okay?
Everything’s happened so fast. A week ago, I was in Toronto discovering my husband’s affair.
Now I’m in some border town in Ireland with a strange family that I have nothing in common with except the fact that we are all from Toronto. ”
“Life’s weird like that,” Kat agrees. “One minute you’re planning your anniversary party, the next you’re kissing a tattooed Irishman with daddy issues.”
“I didn’t say we kissed,” I point out.
Her smile is knowing. “You didn’t have to.”
I flop back on the bed, staring at the water-stained ceiling. “I’m still married,” I say, more to myself than to Kat.
“Technically,” she concedes. “But your husband forfeited any claim to faithfulness when he slept with your sister.”
She’s right, of course. Mark shattered our vows long before I kissed Kane.
Still, something is unsettling about the speed at which my life is transforming.
I came to Ireland to escape, to hide, to lick my wounds in private.
Instead, I’ve been swept up in a family drama that makes my marital problems seem almost trivial by comparison.
“What happened at the castle?” Kat asks, changing the subject. “Kane said you had a panic attack.”
I nod, the memory still fresh and raw. “We found a skeleton in one of the lower rooms. Between that and the confined space, I just... lost it. My asthma didn’t help.”
“Jesus,” Kat mutters. “That’s rough. Are you feeling better now?”
“Yeah,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize it’s true. Despite everything—the skeleton, the panic attack, the kiss—I feel more alive than I have in months. Maybe years. “It’s weird, but I am.”
“Nothing like mortal terror to put things in perspective,” she says sagely.
I sit up, curious about something. “Can I ask you a question? About Kane?”
Kat’s expression turns wary. “Depends on the question.”
“What did he mean when he called me ‘A stór’? I know he said it means ‘my treasure,’ but...”
Kat’s eyebrows shoot up. “He called you that. Seriously?”
I nod, suddenly uncertain. “Is that... bad?”
“No,” she says slowly. “It’s just... Kane doesn’t speak Gaelic. Not casually, anyway. They all learned a bit growing up, but Rory told me that Kane always refused to use it. Said it was pretentious bullshit.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to make of this information. “Maybe he picked it up from his mother?”
“Maybe,” Kat says, though she sounds unconvinced. “Or maybe you’re bringing out a side of him none of us have seen before.”
Before I can respond, there’s a soft knock at the door. Kat opens it to reveal Wren, holding a stack of towels.
“Thought you might want these,” she says, stepping into the room. “The owner said there’s hot water if you want to shower, but we should be quick about it.”
“Bless you,” I say fervently, taking one of the towels. After the day we’ve had, a hot shower sounds like heaven.
“Kane’s asking for you,” Wren adds casually, not quite meeting my eyes. “He’s downstairs.”
I glance at Kat, who gives me an I-told-you-so smile. “Thanks,” I tell Wren. “I’ll go down after I clean up a bit.”
Once Wren leaves, Kat gestures toward the small en-suite bathroom. “You go first. I’ll head down and see if Rory is all snug as a bug.”
I gratefully accept her offer, gathering my toiletries and a change of clothes. The bathroom is tiny but functional, with cracked tiles and a shower that groans alarmingly when I turn it on. But the water is hot, and that’s all that matters.
As I stand under the spray, I try to make sense of the day’s events.
The castle, the skeleton, the panic attack, the kiss.
Kane’s father’s letter, the mysterious safety deposit box in Dublin.
It’s like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life—someone more adventurous, more resilient than the woman who fled Toronto in tears.
I wonder what Mark would think if he could see me now. Would he recognize the wife he betrayed in this woman who’s chasing clues across Ireland with a family of possible criminals? The thought makes me smile despite myself.
After my shower, I change into clean clothes—jeans and a sweater I packed at Wavecrest. I towel-dry my hair as best I can and apply a bit of lip balm, pointedly ignoring the voice in my head that asks who I’m trying to impress.
When I head downstairs, I find Kane alone in the small sitting room, sprawled in an armchair by the fireplace. The others must have gone to bed or found somewhere else to be. He looks up as I enter, and the smile that spreads across his face makes my heart do somersaults.
“Hey,” he says, straightening up. “Feeling better?”
“Much,” I confirm, taking the chair opposite him. “Amazing what a hot shower can do.”
He nods, his eyes never leaving my face. “Listen, about what happened at the castle—”
“Which part?” I interrupt. “The skeleton, the panic attack, or the kiss in the rain?”
His laugh is soft and genuine. “All of it, I suppose. But mostly the kiss.”
I feel heat rising to my cheeks again, but I hold his gaze. “What about it?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay with it. That I didn’t take advantage of a vulnerable moment or something.”
The concern in his voice touches me. “You didn’t,” I assure him. “I was a willing participant, if you recall.”
“I recall,” he says, his voice dropping lower in a way that sends a shiver down my spine. “Vividly.”
We sit there for a moment, the air between us charged with something that feels dangerous and exhilarating at the same time.
“So, what happens now?” I finally ask. “With your sister, with the bank in Dublin?”
Kane sighs, running a hand through his hair—that gesture I’m coming to recognize as a sign of his inner turmoil. We're going to Dublin tomorrow. Check out this safety deposit box, see what Tomas left for us.”
“And then?”
He shrugs. “Depends on what we find, I guess. If there’s information about Ella—where she is now, how to find her—then we follow that lead.”
“And Tomas?” I press. “Will you try to find him too?”
Kane’s expression darkens. “If he’s still alive, yeah. I have some questions for him.”
I can only imagine what those questions might be. Why did you abandon me? Why did you pay another man to raise me? Why did you keep my sister a secret? The weight of those unasked questions hangs heavy in the air between us.
“What about you?” he asks suddenly. “What happens when this treasure hunt is over? Back to Toronto to deal with the cheating husband?”
The question catches me off guard. I haven’t thought that far ahead, too caught up in the immediate drama of the MacGallan family secrets.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I can’t stay in Ireland forever. I have a life back there, even if it’s in shambles at the moment.”
“Right,” Kane says, something shuttering in his expression. “Of course.”
I lean forward, needing him to understand. “But I’m not ready to go back yet. Not until...” I trail off, not sure how to finish that sentence.
“Until?” he prompts.
“Until I see this through,” I decide. “Until I know you’ve found your sister, found your answers.”
The smile that breaks across his face is like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, suddenly certain. “I’m in this now, Kane. All the way.”
He reaches across the space between us, taking my hand in his. His skin is warm, his grip firm and reassuring. “Thank you,” he says.