“Keenan needs me back at the house,” he says. “I promise, ladies, we’re doing everything we can to be sure everyone’s safe.
Caitlin nods. Her long, shiny black hair hangs down her back, gleaming under the bright overhead lighting. Her voice is soft, but there’s an edge of steel in it I haven’t heard before. “Of course you are. And don’t let that husband of mine tell you what to do.”
He grins. “It’s my job, you know. He’d kick my arse if I didn’t let him do what he tells me.”
“Would be a bloody good fight, wouldn’t it?” I say, crossing my arms. No one kicks my man’s arse.
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “That’s my girl,” he says warmly. “I love how fierce y’are. Don’t worry, love. Keenan’s like an older brother to me.”
Maeve rolls her eyes heavenward. “As if that would ever stop any arse-kicking. Ask me how I know.”
“I cannot even imagine what it must’ve been like to be mother to those forces of nature that call you mam,” I say, shaking my head,
“What it was?” she says. “What it still is.”
Lachlan laughs, leaving us with Tully at the door and who knows who else surrounding us.
Maeve looks around us and shakes her head. “My, but I haven’t seen the inside of this place in ages.”
“Been a few years myself,” Caitlin says. “Could use a feminine touch, couldn’t it?”
We laugh. The floor and walls are bare, and the shelf above the refrigerator has cello-wrapped packages of noodles, paper cups with instant soup, and other such meals one could take to the moon if necessary. I grimace.
“Oh, aye. Need a bloody carpet, some decent food, and a damn liquor cabinet,” I mutter.
Maeve grins. “Now that’s a smart girl.”
“Are you alright, Maeve? Feeling okay?”
“Oh, aye,” she says. “Seems someone tried to get me down, but I daresay those boys of mine have it sorted by now, wouldn’t you say?”
I daresay they would.
She sits on the little loveseat in the corner and yawns widely. “So, tell us, lass. What’s going on with you and Lachlan? He put a ring on that finger yet?”
I flush and look away, but she’ll have none of it.
“I’m not asking about your sex life, doll, so no need to clam up. Come, now, look who it is. Just me and Caitlin. We won’t judge.”
None of them will. It’s one of the things I like best about them.
“Course not,” I tell her. “It’s just that everything’s so new, isn’t it? Hardly know what to think myself.”
Caitlin sits beside Maeve and stretches out. “New?” she says with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “Sweetheart, you’ve been in love with him since grade school, haven’t you?” She speaks with an American accent tinged with Irish, having been raised by an American father.
I laugh out loud, then sigh. “Why I ever thought running away from home would solve my troubles is beyond me.”
“Oh, aye,” Maeve says with a gentle smile. “You’re wise to know that now, Fiona. Some people spend their entire lives trying to run from their troubles. And there’s nothing wrong with moving away if you need some time or space. But never do it out of fear.”
I open my mouth to protest, then shut it again and don’t reply. Until she put it that way, I didn’t really think it was fear that drove me.
“The happiest people build lives from which they don’t need an escape,” Maeve says. I nod slowly, thinking about it. “I live here, by the most beautiful ocean I’ve ever seen. I’m surrounded by my sons and their families, the wee children a joy to my heart. And when I married Seamus McCarthy, I didn’t know him from Adam. I was closed off to him, as it were. I’d seen my mother freeze my father out to get her way and tried the same tactics myself.”
I imagine trying to freeze Lachlan out. Though I didn’t know Seamus, I’ve heard enough about him from his sons that I can surmise he was just as domineering as the goddamn rest of them. He taught his sons to be head of their houses, and the values of the Clan have been passed on to all in the brotherhood. Old-fashioned, aye, no doubt. But fiercely loyal as well.
“You had an arranged marriage, didn’t you, Maeve?”
“Aye,” she says with a smile. “I did. And don’t get me wrong, Seamus and I had our shares of struggles. No need to rehash them all, but it wasn’t easy.”
Since I’ve been welcomed into the fold, it’s come to light that Carson was the illegitimate son of Seamus McCarthy. I’ll bet there were other conflicts as well, but the very thought of Lachlan with another woman makes me clench my hands into fists.
“Wasn’t very easy for us, either,” Caitlin says simply. She shrugs. “Honestly, some days it still isn’t.”