“It’s nice to have the company. Mrs. Meeney didn’t teach me my letters and sums.” She looked up at Fin. “I didn’t grow up with you like the others. I don’t have the same history.”
“It doesn’t change what we are now.”
“I know, and that’s a constant miracle to me. This family. You’re my family, Fin, but I don’t have the history with you or Branna the others do, so
maybe I can say what the others can’t, or say it in a different way. He used you, what happened between you, to try to get to her. That hurt you as much as her.”
She straightened. “It would be easier to walk away, leave this to the three. But you don’t. You won’t. Part of it’s because of your own need to right a wrong—a wrong done to you. Part’s for family, for your circle, your friends. And all the rest, all the parts of the rest, that’s for Branna.”
He leaned back against the counter, slipped his hands into his pockets. “That’s a lot of parts.”
“There are a lot of parts to you. I didn’t grow up with you, didn’t watch you and Branna fall in love, or go through the pain of what pulled you apart. But I see who you are now, both of you. And from where I’m standing, she’s wrong not to let herself have love, have joy. It makes all the sense in the world, but it’s still wrong. And you’re wrong, Fin. You’re wrong for believing—and deep down you do—she’s doing it to punish you. If that were true, Cabhan couldn’t have used you to hurt her.
“I should go.”
“You’ve such kindness in you.” He pushed off the counter, then cupped her chin, kissed her. “Such light. If you could cook I swear I’d turn Boyle into a mule and steal you away for my own.”
“I’m keeping that in reserve. We’ll have Christmas, we’ll have family. I know you, and Branna, too, would rather move on this dream spell right away. But Connor was right last night. We’ll take our family time, have the holiday with color and light and music. Throw that in his face first.”
“We were outvoted on it, and I can see it from your side.”
“Good.” She reached for the door, turned back. “You need to have a party. This fabulous house begs for it. You should have a party for New Year’s Eve.”
“A party?” The quick switch unbalanced him. “Here?”
“Yes, a party; yes, here. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Time to sweep out the old, ring in the new. Definitely a New Year’s Eve party. I’ll text Boyle. We’ll help you throw it together.”
“I—”
“Gotta go.”
She shut the door, and quickly, leaving him frowning after her. “Well, Christ, Bugs, it looks like we’re having a party.”
He decided to think about it and all that entailed later. He still wanted that ride. He’d get out, give Baru his head, let Merlin soar and hunt. Give little Bugs the time of his young life.
And on the way home, he’d stop by the stables, and stop again by the falconry school, put some time in each. If there was enough of the day left after all of that, he’d check to see if he could be of use in Branna’s workshop. Though he assumed she’d be as pleased as he to have a full day apart.
Out in the stables while he saddled his big black, he had a conversation with Sean that ranged from horses, a feed order, to women, to football, and back to horses.
He paused as he led Baru out. “It may be I’m having a party for New Year’s Eve.”
Sean blinked, pushed back his cap. “At the big house here?”
“Sure that would be the place.”
“Hah. A party at the big house—fancy-like?”
“Not altogether fancy.” He hadn’t thought of it either way—and supposed he should have consulted Iona since it was her doing. “Just scrape the horse shite off your boots.”
“Hah,” Sean said again. “And would you be having music then?”
Fin blew out a breath. “It seems only right there’d be music. And there’d be food and drink as well before you ask. Nine o’clock seems right.” He scooped Bugs off the ground, swung into the saddle.
“A party at the big house,” Sean said as Fin kicked Baru straight into a gallop.
When Fin glanced back, he saw his longtime stable hand, hands on hips, studying the house as if he’d never seen it before.
Which said, Fin supposed, it was long past time for a party.