Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
W hen Kieran had announced his reason for being in Wagon Train, Sara had resisted a powerful urge to hug him. So inappropriate. They’d just met.
But boy, had she wanted to grab hold and squeeze tight. Gorgeous, Irish and motherless, he was the most huggable man she’d met in ages.
Not to mention his accent. Although she hadn’t been to Ireland yet, she’s probably get that opportunity next year. She’d coordinated a tour of New York City for a group from Dublin this past March and interacting with that bunch had been awesome. She could listen to those folks say Dooblin and tat’s craic all day long.
None of them had looked like Kieran Haggerty, though. Lilting speech coming out of his mouth created all sorts of squishy reactions in her suddenly warm body. Did she have time to be his partner in this quest? Hell, yeah.
But first she’d help him find the right hat. “Do you know what size you wear?”
“Not really. I’ve worn adjustable caps all my life.”
The way he said adjoostable made her toes curl. She took off the hat she had on and looked inside. “This is a seven and one-eighth. Want to try it, just for size?”
“All right.” He set it lightly on his head, glanced in the full-length mirror and grinned. The hat perched a good two inches above the tips of his ears. “I look like an eejit.”
“Eejit.” She smiled back at him. “My Dublin tour group used that word all the time.”
“You took a trip to Dublin?”
“No, the Dublin group came to New York and I organized a tour of the city for them . I had so much fun listening to them.”
“That’s what you do? Take folks around New York?” He handed over the hat.
“I’m not usually on the tour myself. I organize them, and not just for New York. I can plan a tour for most any large city in the country. The guide for the Dublin group’s tour got sick at the last minute and we couldn’t find a replacement so I stepped in.”
“It’s your company, then?”
She took it as a compliment that he imagined her capable of running the operation. “No, I work for Adventuring Travel.”
His blue gaze sharpened. “I’ve seen buses in Dublin with that on the side.”
“Those would be ours. We’re world-wide, but I’m not trained on any international tours yet. I’ll start next year. I can’t wait for my turn to go to Dublin.”
“My village isn’t far from there. I’m in the city all the time. You’ll have to ring me.”
“I will. It’s great to have local connections.” And he’d just reminded her of the main reason to keep this relationship friendly but not too friendly. Different worlds, ships passing in the night and so on.
She put on her hat. Technically she didn’t own it yet, but she would. “Since mine was a terrible fit, you’d better go up a size, or maybe two sizes. Are you familiar with the various brands?”
“Only Stetson.”
“There are other options — Resistol, Justin, American Hat Company, you name it.”
“I can see that.” Hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans, he strolled the long wall, checking each display. “What’s yours?”
“It’s a Stetson.” What a yummy guy. Long legs, easy gate, nice butt. She did her level best not to follow his every move, but it was a challenge. Clearly he wasn’t trying to look sexy. He couldn’t help it.
He paused by the Stetson display, surveyed the offerings and reached for a brown felt with a simple hatband. Holding it by the crown, he settled it on his head and tugged the brim down. Then he turned. “What do you think?”
She stared at him, awash in lust. The brim shaded his eyes just enough to add a touch of appealing mystery. The width of the hat drew attention to his broad shoulders and narrow hips.
His shirt and jeans resembled the clothes her brothers wore these days, and although his boots had laces, they still looked manly. He could easily pass for a cowboy. A hot one.
What did she think? If he walked out of Hannigan’s wearing that hat he’d need a bodyguard to keep women at bay. She’d gladly accept the position. She’d seen him first.
“No good?” He reached to take it off.
“Oh, no. It’s good. Very good. You just found yourself a hat on the first try. Congrats.”
“It puts me in mind of the one Chuck Connors wore in The Rifleman.” He headed in her direction.
“I’ll take your word for that.”
“You didn’t watch the show?” He checked his image in the mirror.
“It was before my time. Yours, too, for that matter.”
“True.” He made a slight adjustment to the tilt of the hat and turned back to her. “But Granny loves those old Westerns. Growing up I watched ’em all with her.”
“Then I can’t wait to introduce you to Desiree McLintock, the owner of the ranch where I’m staying.”
“McLintock?” He brightened. “Like the name of the John Wayne film?”
“Exactly like that. She adores the movie, which is why she legally changed her name to McLintock.”
“Amazing.”
“Desiree’s an original.” Since he hadn’t recognized the name M.R. Morrison, she might as well skip over that part of the story. “She named her place Rowdy Ranch after Rowdy Yates.”
“Clint Eastwood. Rawhide. ”
“Oh, yeah, you two will get along great. On top of it, she’s lived here a long time, so she might have information on your mother.”
“When do I get to meet this woman?”
“Maybe this afternoon. My folks are probably finished with their dessert by now and ready to drive back. They rented a five-person SUV when we flew in yesterday, so you could ride with us.”
“But I’ve rented a room at the hotel, so I’ll need a way to get?—.”
“I’ll bring you back. As soon as we pay for our hats, we’ll head over to the Buffalo.”
“The Fluffy Buffalo?”
“That’s the one. Everyone but me decided to order dessert after we finished lunch. I was more interested in getting a hat.” And she was thrilled with how that choice had worked out.
”Could I get takeaway at the Buffalo?”
“I think so. You haven’t eaten?”
“Not since early morning.”
“Then you need food. And a pint.”
“Listen to you, sounding Irish.”
“Am I right about you wanting one?”
He chuckled. “You’d be right.”
“They might even have Guinness.” His soft chuckle had given her goosebumps. No question she was into him, but backing out of her offer wasn’t an option. She’d just be careful.
“They do have Guinness. I saw it online.”
“Okay, then. Here’s the plan, if you’re up for it. We’ll walk over to the Buffalo, order your takeout, and while we’re waiting you can have a pint. You can eat on the drive to the ranch. How does that sound?”
“Grand. I was knackered after the trip down here. And I’m that hungry my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.”
“Then it’s settled. Once my folks agree, which I know they will, I’ll give Desiree a call to let her know we’re bringing someone back with me, but I won’t go into the details. That’s better explained face-to-face.”
“I agree. She’ll be needing to look at the postcard and the picture.”
“And you. I see the family resemblance in your face and hair. I can’t tell eye color from the picture, but?—”
“Green as shamrocks according to Granny. I got the blue from my father, who took off before I was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not me. Granny says he was a bleedin’ plonker. Never showed his face again. Good riddance.” He said it casually, and the shadow of his hat muted any telltale emotion in his gaze.
Maybe he’d accepted being deserted by both his mother and his father, but she still wanted to hug him. In a comforting way. She didn’t want to start anything that she couldn’t finish.
Keep telling yourself that, girlfriend.