Chapter 20
twenty
BéBHINN
Bébhinn tried to hide the slight shake of her hands, hoping to appear nonchalant as she dumped another chicken noodle soup packet into the boiling water.
Dagr. Dagr Griffiths. Jesus. How had she ever thought the man at her side was remotely related to her brother, for the love of God? He was tall, maybe as tall as her dad, but it was hard to tell since she hadn’t seen him fully upright.
It was the hair that had caught her off guard. That plus his height had thrown her for a moment. But besides that, they were nothing alike, and thank goodness for that, because no one wanted to look at a sexy stranger and think, “Hey, he looks just like my brother.”
Besides his mannerisms and Welsh accent, another thing that was completely different about him were his eyes. Her brothers’ eyes ranged from honey amber to dark brown—variations of their father’s.
Dagr’s eyes were… They were impossible to describe. She needed Mags’ flair for description to come close, but if forced, she would call them clear. You’re an idiot, Bébhinn. Clear? She could do better than that.
They were so light blue, they appeared colorless.
Mesmerizing.
Attempting to drum up a coherent bit of conversation, she blurted, “The weather hit fast.” That was all she had?
She watched as he maneuvered his big frame into a more comfortable position. He fed the fire a few pieces of kindling before turning his unnervingly gorgeous eyes back to her.
“It caught me off guard, and that rarely happens.”
She believed that the man watching her wasn’t caught off guard often. Every movement he made seemed capable. She really needed to stop staring. The man would think he was holed up with a nutter.
Glancing to her left, she noticed that her father’s letter was lying on a rock shelf next to her pack, and she discreetly pushed the envelope under her discarded face mask.
Tonight was supposed to be the night she read her dad’s final words. Damn. Damn. Damn.
“I can’t believe we found the same cave.”
“Oh, I knew the cave was here. I hike all over the world, but Wales is my home. Dad and I have explored every mile. I am surprised that you found it, though. Unless this isn’t your first time exploring these peaks.”
“It’s my first, but I did study the topography maps of each stage, and thank God I did or else I’d have had to push through.” She shivered thinking about it. “I was getting pretty cold before I decided to find shelter.”
She stirred the soup, which was ready. It only took a minute to hydrate the noodles and chicken. Dagr rummaged through his pack until he pulled out a small metal pan similar to hers. She held her hand out and he handed it to her so she could split the soup.
As she divvied dinner, he tugged off his shoes, placed them near the fire by hers, and shed his jacket.
“Hopefully, this thing will dry fast. I’ve been using it for my pillow at night.” He explained while he laid the jacket between himself and the fire.
“In the meantime, I’ve been staying at lovely B&Bs with feather mattresses and hot showers.” She smirked before adding, “I like my travel agent better than yours.”
He laughed before picking up his pot to sip the hot soup. “Ahh, so you’re a princess hiker. I must have missed seeing your matching luggage because it was covered in snow.”
“Hey! I travel light, Mr. Judgy. And to think, I was about to offer to share my pillow.”
“Oh Christ, I knew it! The princess needs a pillow.”
“No, the princess was smart enough to pack a blow-up pillow that takes up no room in her pack but provides much more comfort than a zipper jacket.”
“Fine, fine. I concede. I’m sure as hell not going to argue with the woman who built this fire and made me dinner.”
“Ha ha. Mom and my aunts have always said that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well,” she smirked, enjoying their banter, “Aunt River says a lot more than that, but I won’t repeat her words of wisdom in polite company.”
The shocked look on Dagr’s face before he burst out laughing was priceless. Her immediate thought was that she wished her dad could have met him. Dad rarely liked anyone, but something told her he would like Dagr Griffiths.
“It sounds like you have a close family. Do you all live in Dublin?”
“We are. Very much so, and yes, most of us. My mom and dad grew up in Oklahoma, in the States, though my mom and sisters split their time between Ireland and Oklahoma. Only in recent years, once Dad’s mom passed, did he sell most of his properties there.
“Dad was already retired when he married my mother, and she and her sisters had already started their interior decorating business in Dublin. So, smart man that he was, he moved to Ireland. Do you have a big family here in Wales, then?”
“It’s just me and Dad.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but she got the feeling he might have loved having a big family. “Dad’s folks passed a few years back, and I’m an only child. My mother died when I was a kid. She was a competitive eater and choked during a hot dog challenge.”
Bébhinn felt her eyes widen and her mouth drop. Surely, she’d heard him wrong. A…hotdog? “Umm, gosh…wow, Dagr. That’s terrible. I’m s—” She was cut off by his laughter.
“God, Bébhinn, you should have seen your face. Never play poker, lass.” His shoulders were still shaking in amusement when he divulged, “Mom died from a severe stroke. It was sudden. A complication from her cancer. She died within hours.”
She let out a huge breath, torn between laughing and crying in commiseration of losing a parent suddenly.
“I’m sorry. I bet she wanted to kick cancer’s ass for you and your dad’s sake.
” Then, to lighten the mood, she added, “You can’t have many friends with that type of humor, you asshole.
Hot dogs…” Her pfft of exasperation made him smile.
He only grinned and shrugged. “I don’t. Not really. Dad is my best friend, and he’s all I’ve ever needed.”
She tried to hide her wince, but his admission landed close.
“So,” he changed the subject, glancing toward her pack, “what’s with the letter?”
He must have noticed her tucking the letter away earlier. “Family business,” she replied, with a touch more irritation than she liked.
Dagr held his hands up in a sign of peace. “Apologies. I’m an attorney. I recognized the legal embossing on the envelope.” He must have noticed her discomfort, because he immediately said, “I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry.”
Her face flamed with embarrassment. “No. I’m sorry. I overreacted. It’s…it is… I meant to read my father’s letter to me. He passed just over six months ago.” She felt her face tighten with the need to cry and quickly turned, busying herself with fiddling with the fire and taking a sip of her soup.
He was silent for so long, she thought the awkward moment would never pass, and then he said, “I understand the pain of losing a loved one. You meant to read that letter tonight. Let me find another shelter so that you can have the privacy you obviously planned for the evening.” He was already rolling to his knees and reaching for his pack.
Bébhinn whipped her gaze to the man. “Oh, Lord, no. I’m sorry if it came across that way.
You aren’t going anywhere in this weather.
Don’t even think it. Dad and I were supposed to go on this hike together.
I’m hyper,” she stuttered, “hypersensitive. I miss him, but I’ve had a great hike. He’d be very happy.
“My family, on the other hand, will be foaming at the mouth with worry when I don’t check in,” she chuckled, still blinking rapidly to dam the tears wanting to sneak out. “Even though I warned them that the weather might delay me.”
“No shame. My father still blows up my phone with dire warnings and demands. In fact, I can’t believe he hasn’t already called me.”
When he grinned at her, Bébhinn felt her stomach flip.
The man was…all man. If her friends were here, Gray would raise one patrician brow in caution.
Blair would give her a cautious look that meant “He’s hot, proceed, but use caution.
” Mags would be giving her two extremely obvious thumbs up and elbowing her forward.
“I’ve got at least twenty years on you, young lady, and I’m still about to use my sat phone to let my dad know I’m safe. You can use it to contact your family, too, if you want.”
Twenty years? Surely not. “I’ll take you up on that.
My brothers bought me a sat phone, and in my hurry to leave, I forgot it.
” He began to rummage through his pack, eventually pulling his sat out.
“I would rather call one of my brothers, but I should probably call my mom. Since dad, she’s… she struggles.”
“Of course she would be—”
He was cut off when the sat phone started to ring. “Jesus,” she heard him mumble.
“Hello,” he answered.
She was fascinated when she saw the seemingly unrufflable attorney’s cheeks turn red. He glanced her way once and winced, turning his body just enough to avoid eye contact.
From the one-sided conversation, she ascertained that his father was as protective as hers had been.
“Aye, Fa. I’m fine. I said I’m fine. Christ, Dad!
I’m warm enough. We’re snug in a cave with a fire.
” His muttered “idiot” was meant for himself.
He hadn’t meant to mention her, she assumed, smiling at his expense.
“Another hiker got stuck like me. Yes, it’s safe.
Jesus! Dad! Enough. I’ll call you when I get to Conwy.
Fine. Fine. Yes.” And then the best part. “I love you, too.”
He looked at her with a sheepish expression after he hung up. “Pretend you didn’t just witness a thirty-nine-year-old man being raked over the coals by his father.”
She covered her grin with her hands until she could suppress her laughter. “Hey, listen, I’m only thrilled that it isn’t just my family that’s so extra.”
“Oh no. It might only be the two of us, but my father is mighty in his extra-ness.” He wiggled the phone at her. “Give me your mom’s number.”
With a nod, she took the phone from him once it started to ring. Her mother answered before the first ring finished.
“Hello.”
Her mother sounded like she’d been crying. Damn. “Hey, Mom, it’s me. Sorry, it’s so late.”
There was a squeal, then arguing voices, and finally, her mother cleared her throat. “Bébhinn, sweetheart. No worries, I’m just so happy to hear your voice.”
She made a vow when she heard the quiver in her mother’s voice that she would never forget the sat phone again.
“No fucking worries. No worries, Row? For fuck’s sake, sister! You made your mother and aunts worry,” Bran’s growly voice shouted over the line, loud enough for Dagr to hear if his raised brows were any indication.
Bran must have taken the phone from her mom, or Bébhinn was on speaker. “I’m literally only three hours later than I normally call, Bran. I hardly think your tone is necessary,” she warned.
“Are you safe? I don’t like this.” Speaker then. That was Patrick.
Before she could answer, Raven said, “I’m glad you called. My husband has been impossible.”
“Ignore your brother, babe. He’s grumpy because I had a treatment on my vagina and he’s been cut off for two days.”
“Jesus, River, stop! Now I’m snowed in and gagging.” She glanced at Dagr, who had his hands covering his face to stifle his laughter.
Another thirty seconds went by when all she could hear were people saying “Stop,” “Christ, Riv,” “I’m officially sick,” and the go-to, “Dad, make her stop.”
Jonathan piped up next. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“There are several caves just off the main trail. I found one and started a fire. I just finished eating dinner. I’m cozy. Hopefully, the snow breaks by morning, and I can start early.”
Her mother gasped, “Oh, Bébhinn. A cave? That doesn’t sound safe.”
“Never mind that, Auntie Row,” Daniel cut in. “Where’d you get the sat, Bébé?”
Nosy bastard. As casually as she could, she said, “Oh crap, I forgot to tell you that another hiker got stranded too, and we’re sharing the shelter for the night.”
Cue…silence. Dagr’s hands dropped, and he shook his head, grimacing. He could see where this line of questioning was headed.
“Name?” Bran demanded.
Before she could reply, Dagr answered for himself. “Dagr Griffiths.” His deep voice held a hint of warning.
Not good. Not good. Not good at all. Now it was her turn to cover her face with her hands, but not because she was laughing. No. It was pure mortification.
Without hesitation, he said, “Solicitor with a practice in London. Pro bono work for wildlife protection, predominantly in Wales. Avid trail runner. Assistant Ranger for Wales National Trust. I inspect trails and assess maintenance needs.
“I’m thirty-nine. Single. My mother’s passed, but my father loves me. I’m not liking your tone with Bébhinn, but I understand your worry, so I’ll let it go. I have no intention of making a pass toward your sister…niece, as she’s far too young.”
River’s snort of amusement only made her face burn hotter. Lord, take me to my father. I’m ready.
“Fine.” Bran.
“Take care of her.” Patrick.
“She snores.” Jonathan.
“I love you. Call me from Conwy.” Mom.
“Keep your hands to yourself.” Daniel.
When the call ended, I could only shrug and say, “Welcome to the O’Faolain family.”