Chapter 25
Eighteen Years Earlier
If Kip had given even a moment of thought to what would happen when he had to retire from rugby, never in his wildest dreams could he have believed that somehow, things would work out with Blythe.
But that was exactly what had happened. Blythe Scott had finally fallen for him, just as he knew all those other girls who fell over themselves to try to win him over, were about to turn away.
That was Blythe all over. She was never one to follow the crowd, it was what he liked about her, well, that and a million other things.
He still fancied the pants off her, he just had to catch her eye at mass on a Sunday morning, and it did something to his core that no priest would approve of, but then, there was more to her than just that.
Blythe had been beyond kind to his mother when she wasn’t well a year earlier.
Kip was touring with the team in the southern hemisphere, a world away from Pin Hill Island, when his mother called him from her hospital bed.
In typical fashion, she hadn’t wanted to worry him and as it turned out, she – or rather Blythe – had everything in hand.
Somehow, for once, he didn’t feel the need to drop everything and rush to her.
Blythe had taken her to A the one on everybody’s lips because his father had run off with another woman.
There was no settling Blythe on the matter though, and maybe he could see it from her point of view. Isn’t that what women want? A big white wedding, a grand gesture, all the frills that go with it and a respectable twelve months before a baby appears.
Kip couldn’t give a hoot for any of that, and he’d told Jack Scott precisely so.
The thing his future in-laws didn’t understand was that nobody intimidated Kip now.
He might feel inferior in terms of many things, but behind it all, he’d lay down everything for Blythe.
Sure, he knew the Scotts could buy and sell his mother’s little house ten times over, probably, if they wanted to, and he knew they were well connected and respected well beyond the island.
All of Kip’s respect came from being capped for Ireland – which, when all was said and done, was only fleeting anyway.
For that reason alone, it would be stupid to let it go to his head and so he never had lost sight of who he was beneath it all.
The fact was, Kip had seen many a big man cry his eyes out over a ball falling on the wrong side of a white line – he’d long since given up being intimidated by other people’s stations or situations.
‘I won’t apologise,’ he said, levelling a clear-eyed gaze at his future grandfather-in-law, ‘because I think it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ And he meant it – there was no match or score or award that could top the joy he felt at the idea of this baby.
‘I’m not asking you to,’ Jack Scott said, when he’d called him into the hotel one afternoon while Blythe was on the mainland sorting out some hotel business.
‘Good,’ Kip said, taking the seat opposite him. They were in the snug, a small cut-off section of the bar that had fallen out of fashion these last few years. ‘So, what can I do for you?’
‘I want to be clear with you, this place…’ The old man waved a hand about the hotel. ‘This place isn’t on the table for you, if that’s…’
‘I’d be happy with Blythe if we were living in a tent on the side of the road. I don’t need your hotel to be happy,’ he said and na?vely he assumed Blythe wouldn’t either once the baby arrived.
‘Is that so?’ The old man smiled and then he sipped from one of the thimble-sized glasses of whiskey he’d poured them both. At the same time, Kip pushed his away, whiskey was his father’s drink, he never touched the stuff. ‘So, if I was to hand the place over to Rae, you’d be fine with that?’
‘I know nothing about hotels; I’d be more worried if you wanted me to come in and run the place for you.’ This had crossed his mind at one point, what if there was an expectation he would work here? The idea filled him with dread – he quite simply wouldn’t know where to start.
‘That was never on the cards, I can assure you.’ The old man leant back and appraised him. They sat for what felt like a long time, both lost in thought. Kip felt his stomach churn at the aroma of the whiskey.
‘Look, this place is yours, it will always be the Scott legacy. I’ve no interest in seeing the name Carney above any door, let me tell you,’ Kip said then, to quell whatever worries the old man was still holding onto.
‘Fine. That’s that I suppose.’ And he took up his drink, finished the contents in a final gulp and gasp. It looked as if he was no more a whiskey man than Kip was and he wondered then, if that too had been some kind of test.
‘That’s that,’ Kip said and he pushed his glass further away again.
‘There’s only one thing.’
‘Name it,’ Kip said, and instantly regretted his automatic answer.
‘I’d hope that you are going to be a better husband than your father.’
‘I’m my mother’s son,’ Kip said.
‘Yes, they say that the man that’s good to his mother will be good to his wife.’ Jack glanced across at him now. ‘I’ll need a promise.’
‘You’re asking me if I’ll be a good husband?
’ Kip sat a little straighter in the chair.
‘I have no intention of ever doing anything to hurt Blythe. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember and if I was going to promise anyone what sort of husband I’d be, that promise was made a long time ago to my own mother. ’
‘That’s enough,’ Jack said, and he sighed deeply as if he was finally letting Blythe go, even if it was breaking his heart to do so.