“So, he’s here, and on her way is the prettiest filly in the West Counties. Spirited, too, a two-year-old, fine as a princess. She’s Aine, for the faerie queen. We’ll be playing matchmaker there, Boyle, when she’s mature enough. Until she is, she’ll do well on the jump course, even, I think, with novices.”
“You’ve more than breeding on your mind.” Branna nudged her tea aside.
“Ah, darling, breeding’s ever on it.”
“You knew she’d come, and what it would mean. It’s already begun.”
“We’ll talk about it.” Fin laid a hand over Branna’s on the table. “But not in the pub.”
“No, not in the pub.” She drew her hand from under his. “You know more than you say, and I’ll want the truth of it.”
Irritation simmered in his eyes. “I’ve never lied to you, mo chroi. Not in all our lives, and you know it. Even when a lie could have given me what I wanted most.”
“Leaving gaps is no different from a bold lie.” She pushed to her feet. “I’ve work yet. Boyle, use your truck to see Iona back to the hotel, would you? I won’t have her walking through the wood at night.”
“Oh, but—”
“I’ll see to it.” Boyle interrupted Iona’s protest smoothly. “Not to worry.”
“I’ll get that salve to you in the morning. And see you, Iona, tomorrow, after work. We’ve much more to do.”
“Well and hell.” Connor sighed, started to rise as Branna left.
“No, stay and finish your pint.” Meara rubbed at Connor’s arm as if to soothe even as she pushed back her chair. “I’ll go with her. It’s time I started home anyway. Thanks for the tea, Fin, and welcome back. I expect I’ll see the lot of you tomorrow.”
Grabbing her jacket, Meara dragged it on as she hurried out of the pub.
Connor patted Iona’s arm. “You’ll need to get used to that.”
“That’s God’s truth,” Fin muttered, then very deliberately eased back, smiled. “I tend to put our Branna in difficult moods. So tell us, Iona from America, what is it you’ve seen and done in Ireland?”
“I . . .” How could they just pick up the small talk when the air actively pulsed with temper and heartbreak? “Ah . . . not very much. And a lot, I guess. I came to meet Branna and Connor, and to find a place, to find work. Now I have. But I haven’t had time, yet, to see anything but here. It’s so beautiful, it’s enough.”
“We’ll have to get you out and about more than that. You say you found a place, to live you mean? That’s quick work.”
“I’m staying at Ashford for a few more days.”
“Now there’s a rare treat.”
“It really is. Then I’m going to live with Branna and Connor.” She saw his eyes flicker, narrow, shift quickly to Connor. “Is that a problem?”
In answer, Fin leaned over the table, kept those eyes focused on her face. “She knew you. She reaches out to many, but holds precious few. Home is sanctuary. If hers is yours, she knew you. Have a care with them,” he murmured to Connor. “By all the gods.”
“Don’t doubt it.”
“Speaking of gaps.” Frustrated, Iona looked from one man to the other, and to Boyle who sat, saying nothing at all. She’d get nothing out of any of them, not there and then. “I should go. Thanks for dinner, Connor, and for the tea, Fin. You don’t have to drive me back to the hotel, Boyle.”
“She’ll skin my arse if I don’t, and it could be literal. I’ll see you back at home,” he said to Fin.
“I’ll be coming along shortly.”
Stuck, Iona walked to the door. She took one glance back, caught a glimpse of Fin brooding into his pint, and Connor leaning over the table, talking quick and low.
She stepped out into windy rain, and found herself grateful after all for the ride.
“You and Fin live together?”
“I keep my place over the garage, and make use of his house when I’ve a mind to, as he’s out as much as in. It’s handy for both of us, living there near the big stables.”