"You made your point." Whatever effort it took to concede it, Maeve disguised in a brisk nod. "And you have some sense, more than the man whose blood runs through you ever did."
Shannon inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you."
While Shannon continued on her way, everyone else gaped at Maeve as if she'd sprouted wings. "Well, are you going to stand around outside all the day?" she demanded. "Get a move on you, Lottie. I want to go in and see my granddaughter."
Not bad, Shannon decided and quickened her step. If she had half that much luck getting through to Murphy, she could consider it an excellent day's work.
When she reached the farm and circled to the back, she saw Murphy standing near the paddock of sheep beside a short, bandy-legged man who had his teeth clamped around a pipe.
They weren't speaking, but she would have sworn some sort of communication was going on.
Suddenly, the older man bobbed his head. "All right then, Murphy. Two pigs."
"I'd be grateful if you could hold them for me, Mr. McNee. For a day or two."
"That I can do." He shoved the pipe further into his mouth and had started toward the paddock when he spotted Shannon. "You've company, lad."
Murphy glanced over and smiled broadly. "Shannon. I'm happy to see you."
"Just don't start with me, you baboon." She strode forward to shove a finger into his chest. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."
Beside them, McNee perked up his ears. "Is this the one then, Murphy?"
Gauging his ground, Murphy rubbed his chin. "She is."
"You took your time picking one out, but you picked a fair one."
Temper bubbling, Shannon turned on McNee. "If you've bet on this idiot, you can kiss your money goodbye."
"Is there a pool?" McNee asked, offended. "Why wasn't I told of it?"
While Shannon considered the satisfaction of knocking their heads together, Murphy patted her arm. "If you'll excuse me just a minute, darling. Do you need help getting the lamb you fancy, Mr. McNee?"
"No, I can handle the job, and it looks like you've enough on your hands at the moment." With surprising agility, the old man swung into the paddock and sent bleating sheep scattering.
"We'll go inside."
"We'll stay right here," Shannon shot back, then swore at him when he took a firm grip on her arm.
"We'll go in," he repeated. "I prefer you do your shouting at me in private."
In his careful way he stopped at the stoop, pulled off his muddy Wellingtons. He opened the door for her, waited as any well-mannered man would for her to storm in before him.
"Will you sit?"
"No, damn you to hell and back, I won't sit."
He shrugged, leaned back against the counter. "We'll stand then. You've something on your mind?"
His mild tone only fanned the fires. "How dare you? How dare you call your family and tell them to come look me over, like I was one of your horses going up for auction."
His face relaxed. "You're mistaken about that. I asked if they'd come meet you. That's entirely different."
"It is not different. And you're having them come on false pretenses. You told them you were courting me."
"So I am courting you, Shannon."
"We've been through that, and I'm not going through it again."
"That's fine then. Can I offer you tea?"
She was surprised she had any teeth left, as hard as she was grinding them. "No, you can't offer me tea."
"I do have something else for you." He reached behind him on the counter and picked up a box. "I was in Ennis a day or so ago and bought this for you. I forgot to give it to you yesterday."
In a gesture she recognized as childish, she put her hands behind her back. "No, absolutely no. I'm not taking gifts from you. This isn't even remotely amusing anymore, Murphy."
He simply opened the box himself. "You like to wear pretty things. These caught my eye."
Despite her best intentions, she looked down at the open box. They were pretty-foolishly pretty earrings of exactly the type she might have chosen herself. Citrine and amethyst hearts were nestled, one atop the other.
"Murphy, those are expensive. Take them back."
"I'm not a pauper, Shannon, if it's my wallet you're worrying about."
"That's a consideration, but it's secondary." She forced herself to look away from the lovely stones. "I'm not taking gifts from you. It'll only encourage you."
He walked toward her until she found herself backed up against the refrigerator. "Don't you dare."
"You're not wearing any today," he observed. "So we'll try them on. Hold still, darling, I don't know if I've the knack of it."
She batted at his hands as he started to fasten the first earring, then yelped when he poked the post into her lobe.
"You asked for it," he muttered, giving the job his full concentration.
"I'm going to hit you," she said between her teeth.
"Wait till I'm done. This is clumsy work for a man. Why do they make these little clasp things so bloody small? There." Like a man satisfied with the completion of a pesky chore, he stepped back and studied the result. "They suit you."
"You can't reason with the unreasonable," she reminded herself. "Murphy, I want you to call your family and tell them not to come."