and still whatever it was shot through me like an arrow.â He nodded toward the cottage. âAnd it seems the same for Meara.â
Connor looked over, saw Meara Quinn, lifelong friend, his sisterâs best mate, striding along toward themâtall and lush as a goddess in her flannel sleep pants and old jacket, he thought, and her long brown hair a tangle.
She made a picture, he mused, but then she ever did.
âShe stayed the night,â he told the others. âTook Ionaâs room as you stayed over at Boyleâs, cousin. Good morning to you, Meara.â
âGood morning be damned. What the bloody hell happened?â
âIâm after telling you all.â He slipped an arm around her waist. âBut I need food.â
âBranna said you would, and sheâs already seeing to it. Sheâs shaken, and pretending not to be. It was like a bleeding earthquakeâbut inside me. Thatâs the devil of a way to wake.â
âIâll see to the horses.â Boyle slid off Alastar. âGo on in, stuff something in your belly.â
âThanks for that.â Smiling again, Connor lifted his arms so Iona could drop into them from Alastarâs back. Then she wrapped around him.
âScared me,â she murmured.
âYouâre not alone in that.â He kissed the top of her head, his pretty cousin from America, the last of the three, and keeping her hand in his, went into the cottage.
The scent of bacon, of coffee, of warm bread hit his belly like a fist. In that moment he wanted to eat more than he wanted to liveâand needed to eat if he wanted to live.
Kathel led the way back to the kitchen, and there Branna worked at the stove. Sheâd tied her dark hair back, still wore the flowered flannel pants and baggy shirt sheâd slept in. That alone showed her love, he mused, as sheâd have taken the time to change, to fuss with herself a little knowing thereâd be companyâand Finbar Burke most especially.
Saying nothing, she turned from the stove, handed him a plate holding a fried egg on toast.
âBless you, darling.â
âItâll fill the worst of the hole. Thereâs more coming. Youâre cold,â she said quietly.
âI hadnât noticed, but I am, yes. A bit cold.â
Before she could flick a hand toward the kitchen hearth, Fin did so, and the little fire flashed.
âYouâre quivering some. Sit, for Godâs sake, and eat like a human.â Voice brisk, Meara all but shoved him into a chair at the table.
âIâm not a one to brush away some fussing, and truth be told, Iâd kill for coffee.â
âIâll get it.â Iona hurried over to the pot.
âAh, what man can complain with three beautiful women pampering him. Thanks,
mo chroi
,â he added when Iona gave him the coffee.
âYouâll not be pampered long, I can promise. Sit down, the lot of you,â Branna ordered. âIâve nearly got this fried up. When his bellyâs full enough to settle him, heâll damn well explain why he didnât call for me.â
âIt was fast and done. I wouldâve called for you, for all of you. It wasnât me in harmâs way, Iâm thinking. He didnât come for me this morning.â
âAnd who then, when the rest of us were asleep in our beds?â When Branna would have lifted an enormous platter of food to bring to the table, Fin simply took it from her.
âSit then, and listen. Sit,â he repeated before she could snap at him. âYouâre as shaken as he is.â
The minute the tray hit the table, Connor began to scoop eggs, sausage, bacon, toasted bread, potatoes onto his plate and into a small mountain.
âI woke early, and with an edge on,â he began, and took them all through it between enthusiastic bites.
âEamon?â Branna demanded. âThe son of Sorcha? Here and now? Youâre sure of