Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
K ieran had met his match. Lucky was the best bleedin’ player he’d ever come up against. On the flip side of the coin, Lucky wasn’t having an easy time of it, either.
He didn’t whine though, and his cursing was mild compared to what flew around in the village pub. Not surprising. After all, he’d been raised in America. Kieran sensed a talent for it in the fire Lucky kept hidden.
He had the same fire. Granny said it came from his mother, so he’d kept it mostly hidden, too. Before he left Wagon Train, he’d talk to Lucky, tell him he wasn’t alone. And the fire was a gift.
In short breaks between games, they quenched their thirst, gave Sam some pets and talked about the easy stuff like work and play — his construction and Lucky’s bookshop business, what they did in their spare time. He told Lucky about Bailey and found out Lucky’s horse was Silver, the white one he’d seen on the walk with Sara.
As if by an unspoken agreement, they didn’t discuss their mum. He thought about her, though. Figured Lucky was thinking about her, too. Was she looking down on them, her heart filled with joy that they’d found each other? He wasn’t sure he believed that, but it was a touching thought.
When yet another game ended in a tie, he gazed at his brother. His brother. He never would have believed those words could exist in his world. “I don’t think I can beat ya, mate.”
Lucky smiled. “Oh, I think you can once you’ve rested up. Halfway through the first game I remembered you were jet-lagged. And still giving me a tough time.” He raised his hand, palm out. “Let’s call it.”
Kieran gripped his hand and squeezed. “Done.”
“And we’ll talk to Granny at nine in the morning, right?” He returned his darts to the caddy hanging on the wall.
Kieran followed suit. “As long as Oksana can do without you in the shop.”
“It’s scary how well she can do without me in that shop.”
“Then nine it is. That’s when Granny will be having afternoon tea. And after we hang up, she’ll have plenty of time before it gets dark to run round to the neighbors, spreading the news.”
Lucky picked up their empty bottles from a nearby table. “And there’s absolutely no chance she’ll turn on her video?”
“I’d bet my life on it. She refused to learn. When I showed her how it works and she saw her face on my phone, she yelled and ran out of the room. She almost gave up on the phone altogether.”
“Did you tell her nobody looks good on a video chat?”
“I did, and she said what the feck good is it, then ? Which tells you how upset she was. She’s not one for swearing.”
Lucky grinned. “Mom doesn’t like video chats, either. I want her to do some for M.R. Morrison fans who can’t make it to an in-person signing. She’s dragging her feet.”
“Why? She looks grand.”
“I think so, but she’s not happy with her resting face.”
“Her what?”
“Her expression when she’s just sitting there listening, not smiling or talking.”
“Ah. That’s what Granny’s objecting to, her resting face. I didn’t know what to call it.”
“I understand her feeling awkward. I just wish I could see….”
“You’d like to see her face, resting or not. That’s natural. But she?—”
“Would she come over here? Make the trip next time you come? I’d pay for her flight. And yours.”
“That would be a lot of money, mate.”
“But worth it to me.”
The longing in his brother’s eyes made his chest tighten. He couldn’t even say when he’d be coming back, let alone promise to bring Granny. Money was a problem, and he wasn’t taking handouts.
But with his granny, it was more than money blocking the way. “I wish I could say she’d come, but she’s never been on a plane, let alone one crossing the ocean. I don’t think there’s much chance.”
“Then Oksana and I will have to fly over there.”
“Doesn’t seem like you have the time. Running two shops and all.”
“We’ll make the time. Last February I was at peace with the idea of never having blood relatives. But now I have you and her and it’s… it’s a big deal.”
“For me, too. All this time I had a brother. If I’d come sooner?— ”
“You didn’t know. It could have been a wild goose chase. And we have a lot of years ahead of us, but Granny… she must be getting up there.”
“She’s eighty-one.”
“In good health?”
He shrugged. “A few aches and pains. Nothing serious, yeah?”
“I missed meeting our grandpa. I don’t want to miss her.”
“She won’t want to miss you, either. But I just don’t see her getting on a plane.”
“Not even to visit the cemetery?”
His breath hitched. He’d pushed the gravesite to the back of his mind. He wanted to go, but it would be… challenging.
The prospect of laying flowers on her daughter’s grave might convince Granny to come to Montana, though. “That could possibly work, but… don’t count on it.”
“If I know Mom, she’s already found someone to put the right name on the stone. She knew Jane Smith couldn’t be right but she had to put something on it.”
“Course she did.”
“I keep saying it in my head. Freya Noreen Haggerty. Can you imagine how much it means to know that name?”
“Yeah, I can.” And here they were at last, talking about their fiery mother. “It’s a good name. Freya means noble lady and Noreen means honor . ”
“That’s…. kind of sad.”
“She didn’t live up to it.” He sighed. “Granny claims she spoiled her, blames herself for her headstrong ways.”
“Maybe she was headstrong. She certainly had terrible taste in men. But Mom said she was determined to pull herself out of the nosedive, take back her life and be a good mother.”
“Then let’s focus on that.”
“Yeah, let’s focus on that.” Lucky took a deep breath. “Ready for me to contact Mom?”
“Desiree?” Even though he didn’t think Lucky was proposing a séance, he felt the need to ask.
His brother gave him a lopsided smile. “I’ve never had to clarify that before. I meant Desiree. She’s the only one I call Mom. Her face is the one that comes up when I use that word.”
“I wish I could remember our mum’s face.”
“But you have the picture. And probably more at home.”
“Some, but when I look at a picture, she seems like a stranger.”
“What do you remember?”
“Wee bits and pieces. Sleepy eyes. A scrap of a lullaby. Pulling on her hair. Not much. I had a toy train made of wood. It’s still up in Granny’s attic. That train makes me think of her. We must have played with it together.”
“Why didn’t she bring you to America?”
“She wanted to. Granny put her foot down.”
“If she had, we could have been adopted together.”
“Maybe.” Or he might not have made it that far. No point in saying so. “Anyway, let’s contact your mum. It’s time.”
“Fair warning, once we leave this room, the floodgates will open. This family is huge and getting bigger every day. It could be overwhelming.”
“I’ve always envied the ones with big families. Seemed like the craic was always better when you had more relations around.”
“Crack?” Lucky’s eyes widened. “Drugs?”
“Craic.” He spelled it out. “It’s our word for fun.”
“Whew, that’s a relief. I wouldn’t throw that word around unless you have a chance to explain it. Folks will think it’s something completely different.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“So you’re okay with getting inundated with relatives?”
“That I am. It’ll be savage.” As long as he had Sara by his side, he’d be fine. As he crossed the room, she turned, her gaze meeting his. The welcome shining in her green eyes lifted his heart and made his stomach flutter. He wanted to touch her, hold her, but he had no excuse, unless….
Until this moment, the music on the sound system had provided a comforting touch of home but he hadn’t paid much attention to any of the tunes after commenting on The Rocky Road to Dublin.
But it just so happened the one playing now was a favorite. He’d danced to it many a time on the worn floor of the neighborhood pub. When he reached Sara, he held out his hand. “Dance with me?”
She laughed. “Sure, why not?”
He spun her into his arms and held on tight. It was the only way she’d be able to follow the crazy mashup of waltz and Irish jig footwork he and his mates had created as young bucks.
She stumbled at first but then she caught his rhythm. And they were off, whirling around the room and stomping their feet while their audience of three clapped along and Sam pranced on the outskirts, tail wagging.
“What’s this song?”
“ Galway Girl .” He relished the feel of her body making constant contact with his. Her warmth called to him, making him long for soft sheets and silky skin. His hidden fire smoldered, the embers heating, fanned to life by the music and the woman in his arms.
The fella in the song surrendered to his fiery need for a girl he’d just met and the poor soul lost his heart along the way. A high price, yeah, but when he looked into Sara’s green eyes, he was more than willing to pay it.