Читать книгу Bride Of The Emerald Isle - Trish Wylie - Страница 7

AS THE dogs scampered across the tiled floor to their baskets Garrett watched the sylph-like blonde hovering in the doorway, a look of sheer terror on her face.

She was quite the mystery woman, wasn’t she?

And, to be honest, he’d thought that before he had even found out where she was going. It wasn’t too often he bumped into a beautiful woman in the middle of nowhere first thing in the morning…

Especially not one he’d felt drawn to the way he had to her. There was just, something, about her. What was it?

‘You checked the herd?’ His father’s voice sounded out from in front of the huge range that dominated the kitchen, his back to the door. ‘All still in one piece?’

‘Yes, all present and accounted for.’ He jerked his head. ‘Come on in, Keelin.’

She took a deep breath and walked into the room, her eyes immediately seeking out its only other occupant.

Who in turn turned to face her with curious eyes. ‘Where on earth did you find this lovely creature? I’ve been sending you out to check stock for decades and you never came home with one of these.’

‘She’s not here to see me. She’s here to see you.’

A mischievous light entered Dermot’s eyes as he winked at Keelin before walking over and slapping Garrett on the back. ‘Son, really, you shouldn’t have. It’s not my birthday ’til next month.’

But the attempt at humour washed right over Keelin, who seemed to be growing paler by the second. It gave her an almost ethereal look, with her already pale skin and huge, luminescent blue eyes. And in the second it took for Dermot to reach out a hand in greeting she seemed to shrink a little, suddenly appearing almost glasslike, as if his touch might shatter her.

And Garrett really wanted to know why she was so full of contradictions—sassy city girl one minute, shy and almost innocently childlike the next. Who was the real Keelin O’Donnell?

He cleared his throat. ‘Paddy McIlroy sent her up here from the hotel in Knightstown.’

‘On foot?’ Dermot looked over at his son with a smile as Keelin finally shook his hand. ‘Good stretch of the legs, eh?’

Keelin seemed to recover as she took back her hand. ‘I don’t think he used the word “good” or “fair”. If he had I might have known to use my car.’

‘He has a very individual sense of humour, does Paddy.’

‘Yes, I got that.’

‘So what brings you up to visit us, then? Not that the sight of a lovely girl doesn’t brighten any day of the week out here!’

Garrett couldn’t hold back a smile of amusement, leaning his head closer to Keelin’s as he peeled off his long coat. ‘Told you he’d like you.’

Colour returned to Keelin’s face as another flush worked its way onto her cheeks. And, despite his best intentions, Garrett smiled all the more. He liked the fact that she blushed so easily. A rare thing in the modern age. Especially from a woman who lived in the big city.

Another contradiction. City women were way too self-assured to blush, weren’t they? They were in Garrett’s experience. He’d found that kind of confidence sexy once, that was true.

But once had been enough.

‘And knowing that, you’d think he’d have had the sense to keep you to himself, wouldn’t you?’ Dermot waved a hand in Garrett’s direction. ‘Get the girl a cup of tea, then. The pot’s stewing on top of the stove.’

Garrett merely lifted an eyebrow in question as she looked his way. And she smiled a very small smile in response. So he nodded. ‘Milk, no sugar, I suppose?’

City girl’s second preference to some foreign froth of a coffee in his experience…

‘Thank you.’

‘Sit down, sit down.’ Dermot pulled out a chair for her at the long, well-worn kitchen table. ‘Keelin, is it? What a lovely name. Are you here for a bit of a holiday? Do you know the island at all? It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?’

‘She might be able to answer if you paused for breath.’ Garrett threw the words over his shoulder as he reached for a mug and poured steaming tea into it. ‘Let her get a word in.’

Not that he doubted her ability to do that if she chose. But something had changed when she’d walked through the door. And Garrett was keen to have his father let her get to it.

The curiosity was killing him.

‘I’m not here on holiday.’

As Garrett turned to place the mug in front of her she was lifting the long strap of her bag from across her shoulders, shrugging her head below it before she searched through its contents. ‘I came here to bring you something I think belongs to you.’

‘To me?’ Dermot’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Yes.’ Her eyes flickered briefly to his face, then up to Garrett’s as he set down the mug. ‘Thank you.’

Garrett smiled encouragingly. ‘You already said thank you. It’s only a cup of tea, Keelin O’Donnell, it’s not that big a deal.’

There was a sudden silence. Broken by. ‘O’Donnell?’

Garrett’s gaze narrowed as his father repeated her surname in the same surprised tone Keelin had when he’d said his name was Kincaid at the gate. What the hell was going on?

Keelin faltered, her hand rising from the bag with a bundle of faded blue letters that she laid on the table in front of her, both hands then smoothing over them as she studied his father’s face.

‘Yes.’

The answer was low, almost flat, yet determined. And the reaction on Dermot’s face was dramatic. He stared at her long and hard, as if he was searching for something, lost for words for the first time that Garrett could ever remember. Which was saying something.

And when Garrett looked back at Keelin, she was studying Dermot in exactly the same way.

Then her eyes flickered back up to meet his and Garrett felt a wave cramp the region of his chest. She looked lost. And he suddenly remembered what he had said to her about his father listening to whatever she had to say. How he had reassured her it would be all right.

Garrett was no liar. And he wouldn’t let his old man make one of him either.

So he pinned a bright smile on his face and pulled out the chair beside her. ‘So I take it you two know each other, then?’

He looked back and forth from one to the other.

Finally Dermot’s eyes strayed to the letters that Keelin was stroking, colour fading from his face as he looked back up at her. ‘Recently?’

The word was almost choked.

Keelin swallowed hard, her eyes shimmering as she nodded. ‘Six weeks ago.’

‘I’m sorry, child.’

She nodded again, her gaze dropping to her hands as she took a moment to control herself before she pushed the letters towards him. ‘I thought you might want these.’

This time Dermot nodded. And even though Garrett now had a million and one questions, he didn’t ask. It felt as if he would be intruding somehow—maybe already was simply by being there.

He watched as his father’s fingers closed around the letters, drawing them closer to him on the table top before he smoothed his hands over them in the same way Keelin had. As if they were something very precious; something beyond any monetary value.

‘Thank you, for bringing them.’ His eyes rose to look at her face again, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth as he spoke in a husky tone. ‘You look like her.’

‘I know.’ Keelin smiled tremulously in return. ‘I get told that all the time.’

‘Aye, well you do. She was your age—’ He stopped and cleared his throat. ‘Garrett, get Keelin something to eat, would you? I’m sure she’s hungry after that long walk.’

‘I’m fine, really.’ She flashed a small smile his way. ‘I ate very early at the hotel.’

Garrett nodded. He couldn’t seem to think of anything to say in the sight of her sparkling eyes and small smile. Damn but she was beautiful, really, an absolute stunner. What looking at her did to him took him back in time, reminded him of who he’d been a lifetime ago. And whoever it was she looked like must have had equally big an impression on his father.

Because the next thing he knew Dermot was pushing his chair back from the table, his fingers closing around the letters. ‘You’ll have to excuse me for a minute.’

Garrett watched in stark amazement as he left the room. What—?

There was the sound of chair legs scraping over the floor again as Keelin stood up and Garrett’s gaze immediately returned to her face as she gathered her bag to her and spoke in a low voice. ‘This was a mistake.’

‘Wait.’ His hand caught her smaller one on top of the bag, fingers curling round hers as he stood up. ‘I’m sure he’ll come back. This isn’t like him.’

But then he wouldn’t be the first Kincaid male to act strangely around this woman, would he?

Keelin untwisted her fingers from his and stepped back, her eyes avoiding his. ‘No, really. I shouldn’t have come here. I think I maybe knew that before I came.’

He could hear the tremor in her voice, could see the shimmer in her eyes as she glanced towards the door. And without thinking he knew he didn’t want her to leave, not when she was so obviously upset.

Her being so upset was partly his fault, after all. He was the one who had told her his father wouldn’t blame the messenger for whatever news she brought. Even though he still didn’t really know what that news was.

‘Who was he talking about?’

She swallowed again, frowning hard as she looked down at her flowered wellingtons. ‘My mother.’

Six weeks ago.

Garrett put some of it together. ‘She passed away?’

A single nod. ‘Breast cancer.’

He flinched inwardly, floundering as he searched for something to say to her, annoyed with himself that he couldn’t. He of all people should have been able to find some words. After all, she wouldn’t be the first one he’d had to find the right words for when a mother had gone.

But while he frowned at the sudden flash of regret from his own past she turned, and was out of the door before he even had time to react.

When he did, without thought, he was immediately on her heels. ‘Wait!’

Her hand was on the gate when he caught up with her, his hand on her shoulder, forcing her round to look at him. And when she did she wasn’t able to hide the tears that streamed down her face.

Garrett swore.

She turned away again, fighting with the latch on the gate. ‘I have to get out of here.’ She shook the gate again as her voice cracked. ‘What sort of a damn stupid gate is this, for crying out loud?’

He watched her struggling, a battle waging inside him between what propriety dictated he should do and what she might need most in that moment.

When her breath caught on a sob, he frowned hard, decision made. ‘Leave it, Keelin. Stop.’ He took a deep breath and stepped towards her. ‘Come here.’

And even though it was entirely inappropriate with someone he had barely met, he drew her into his arms. ‘I can’t let you go running off in this state.’

She struggled in his arms. ‘It’s not your problem.’

‘Maybe not, but if you run in the wrong direction and fall off the island, then I’ll feel responsible.’

She struggled again. ‘Let me go Garrett.’

‘No. Just give yourself a minute.’

When she continued struggling, he spread his feet wider to support them both, even though she was so small in his arms. Then he waited, his arms firm around her waist until she went still, and sobbed against his chest, directly above his heart, so that the sound vibrated through him.

After a moment she seemed to soften, and Garrett felt his shoulders relax, knowing she wasn’t going to fight with him any more. So he waited again, his arms moving so that he could smooth his hands over her back as if he were soothing a wounded animal, trying to gain trust.

Her voice was muffled but stronger when she spoke. ‘Well, this is a first.’

‘Crying?’ He tilted his chin down to study the top of her head as he attempted to inject a little humour. ‘Don’t all women do that?’

‘No.’ She lifted her head back a little so that her voice was clearer. ‘I mastered that one the first time I saw a Lassie film. I’ve just never bawled all over someone within twenty minutes of meeting them.’

‘You lost your mother. You have every right to cry. I just happen to be here, that’s all.’

She stiffened in his arms again, then drew back, stepping away from him as she swiped at her cheeks with her palms. ‘I really shouldn’t have come here, I almost didn’t make the trip. And now I know I shouldn’t have. This was a bad idea.’

Garrett watched as she shook her head, his arms suddenly feeling redundant at his sides. So he shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I take it Dermot knew her?’

‘A long time ago.’

‘Well, he obviously never forgot her.’

Keelin flashed a brief smile his way. ‘My mother had that effect on people. Once met, never forgotten.’

‘Then I guess he was right when he said you were like her.’

Blue eyes widened as she shot him another glance, then she frowned and looked away. ‘I better get back to the hotel.’

‘I’ll drive you back.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

‘You already know how much of a stretch of the legs it is to get back there. Don’t be daft.’

‘The walk will do me good.’

‘Tough.’

She was still frowning when she looked back at him, the city-girl confident façade back in place. ‘Are you always this bossy?’

‘Yep.’ He flashed a half-smile at her. ‘You’ll get used to it. Most people do, given time.’

‘I won’t be here long enough to get used to it.’

‘Well, then, consider this a one-shot deal.’

While she opened her mouth to answer that he took his hands out of his pockets and pointed a long finger at her. ‘Don’t move and I’ll go get my keys.’

‘I can walk.’

‘You could try. But I’ll catch up with you in about a minute flat. So you may just think of this as a way of getting rid of me sooner. Otherwise I’m going to wind down the window and annoy you the whole way back. And I’m better at annoying than I am at bossy.’

By the time he had her seated in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, still scowling at him, Dermot had reappeared.

He tapped on Keelin’s window, and Garrett hit the switch to wind it down.

‘It took me a minute to find them. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’

Another bunch of letters was handed through the window and Keelin looked down at them as she took them from his hands, her face then rising, brows lifting in question.

Dermot smiled sadly. ‘Call me sentimental if you like, but I kept hers, too. You should have them. So you can see both sides of the story.’

Keelin’s voice was a low whisper. ‘Thank you.’

A hand came through the window and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Come back for dinner later. Garrett will come down and get you. I’d like to get a chance to know Breige’s daughter, if that’s all right with you?’

Garrett didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she nodded. Then he smiled inwardly as he started up the engine and turned out onto the laneway.

‘Told you he’d be back. Now you’ll have a chance to get used to me being bossy.’

‘I doubt one meal will do it.’

‘Well, then, maybe I’ll have to get Dermot to ask you to stay longer. You like him better than me.’

She rewarded him with a small, mischievous smile. ‘He’s better looking than you.’

Garrett shook his head as he looked out the windscreen. ‘Nah, he’s not.’

When she didn’t argue his smile made it onto his face as he gave into a sudden pleasure that her mood had brightened. What man was ever comfortable with a crying woman, after all?

As they got closer to Knightstown he glanced across at her, where she held the bundle of letters hugged against her lap.

Garrett wanted to know the story behind those letters.

And not just because of the mystery that surrounded her mother and his father.

He needed to know why it was that a second generation of Kincaids was suddenly so fascinated by a second generation of O’Donnells.

Even though the second generation of Kincaids had no business being fascinated by a woman who came from the city. A woman who had no place on an island like Valentia. The two were like oil and water, Garrett knew. Because he’d already been badly burned once before.

So, the way he saw it, once his fascination waned with a little taste of familiarity, he could let it go. He wasn’t about to be burned twice. No matter how beautiful Keelin O’Donnell was, or how drawn he’d been to hold her and offer her comfort.

No. He wouldn’t put himself through it again. Casual and un-involved worked much better for him these days if he felt the need for a female on his arm. And even if he was stupid enough to be tempted by anything more, he had responsibility for more than his own welfare now. He had Terri’s to consider, too. And she was more important to him than anything else ever could be again.

Fascination, or no fascination.