Riley slipped his arm around Nan’s shoulders and grinned. “Nan is eating for two.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Jordan said. “I ordered two sandwiches, too. All of this outdoor work makes me so hungry.”
“Don’t mind her,” Danny said. “All this fresh air has made her a bit cabbaged.”
“What’s cabbaged?” Gelsey whispered. “Why is she cabbaged? I ordered two sandwiches, too. Is that bad?”
“I expect this isn’t about sandwiches. Riley is trying to tell us that Nan is going to have a baby,” Kellan explained.
“Oh, my God,” Jordan shouted. “Is that true?”
At Nan’s nod, the entire group surrounded her for hugs and kisses. Even Gelsey offered her congratulations before stepping back to slip her arm through Kellan’s. She looked over at him and smiled. “It’s wonderful news.”
“Yes.” Kellan added, “Riley will make a fine father.” He drew in a deep breath. The news had hit him in an odd way. He was happy for the couple, yet he felt a bit strange that Riley would experience fatherhood before he did. Kellan had always been the oldest boy, always been first at everything. But now, he seemed to be trailing behind in his brothers in all the important things.
“I’m going to fetch us a few more beers,” he said, setting the box of sandwiches down on the front step.
“None for me,” Nan said. “You can bring me a soda. I’m sorry, a mineral,” she corrected, using the Irish word.
“You want to give me a hand?” Kellan asked Gelsey.
She followed him inside. The house was nearly empty, except for a few pieces of tatty furniture and the tools Riley was using to renovate the place. But there was a functioning refrigerator in the kitchen and it was stocked with cold drinks.
“Beer for me,” Gelsey said.
He opened two bottles and handed one to her. “Are you having fun? Or is this too much too soon?”
“I like your brothers,” Gelsey said, stepping across the kitchen to give him a kiss. She ran her hand along his cheek. “And I like Nan and Jordan, too.”
“The two of them together can be a bit intimidating. They’re both American and when they have an opinion they tend to just throw it out there for everyone to hear.”
Gelsey shrugged. “I don’t have many girlfriends,” she murmured. “I think I’d like having a girlfriend if they were like Nan or Jordan.”
Kellan leaned back against the refrigerator and watched a wistful expression dance across her pretty features. “You don’t have any girlfriends?”
Gelsey shook her head. “No. Women usually don’t like me.”
“Why not?”
“Did you get me a corned-beef sandwich?” she asked, deftly changing the subject. “I love corned beef.” Gelsey took the other beer from his hand, then headed for the door. By the time he joined her with the rest of the drinks, she was seated on the step, unwrapping her lunch. He gave his brothers each a beer and handed the mineral to Nan, before he sat down beside her.
Gelsey grabbed half the sandwich and bit into it, then groaned softly. “Oh, this is lovely. Are there any fries?”
Fries. Though he could detect a hint of an English accent in her speech, she sounded more like Nan and Jordan than any Brit he knew. But there was something else there. Occasionally, he caught her talking to herself in French or Spanish. “No chips, just crisps.”
She looked at the bag. “Those are chips,” she said.
“Ah, another little clue,” Kellan said. “You reveal yourself a bit more every day. If you call crisps
chips
and chips
fries,
then you’ve spent time in the States.”
“Very astute, Sherlock Holmes,” she said. “My mother is American.”
He leaned back and watched her eat, pondering the information she’d just revealed. It was the first real clue he had to who she was. “What about your father?”
“British,” she said. “Interrogation over.” She took a huge bite of her sandwich, then grinned at him.
Kellan chuckled at the funny face she made. For someone so slender, she certainly enjoyed a good meal now and then. She gobbled down her first corned-beef sandwich in just a few bites and then started on the second.
“Where do you come from?” Kellan asked.
She blinked as she looked at him, continuing to chew. “Come from?”
“You heard me. I don’t get the accent. It’s not Irish, I know that. It’s not entirely American, either, or English. So what is it?”
She shrugged. “Lots of different things. A mash-up, really.”
“Of what?” Kellan could see that she didn’t want to reveal any more. But the woman was living in his house, eating food that he’d provided for her, socializing with his family. The least she could do was fill him in on a few details.
“Does it really make a difference?” she asked, watching him suspiciously.
“I’m just curious.”
Her chin tilted up in defiance as she swallowed. “I spoke French as a child.”
“You don’t want me to know anything about you, do you? Why? What are you trying to hide? There’s no reason. After a week together, we know each other about as intimately as we can.”
She reached for a crisp and nibbled at it, considering her answer silently. “Can’t we just leave it at that? We’re both getting what we want out of this, so—”
“What
I
want? You’re the one who crawled into bed with me that first night. I didn’t invite you.” Kellan cursed beneath his breath. “You know they’re talking about you all around town. Markus Finn wants to capitalize on all this silly mermaid stuff. He thinks you could be like Ballykirk’s very own Blarney Stone.”
A gasp burst from her lips and then a giggle. Before long, she was laughing so hard, she had to set her sandwich down. “Really? But I’m not a mermaid.” When she regained her composure, she drew a ragged breath and nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”
“The tourists wouldn’t care,” Kellan said. “They come to Ireland because of all the magic.”
“So, what would I do?”
“He and the tourism committee are hoping you’ll stay and maybe buy Maeve’s shop from her. She’s had it for sale for a few years now.”
Gelsey crumpled the empty wrapper from her sandwich, then pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I—I really don’t know what my plans are,” she said. “I’m not sure I could make a commitment like that right now.”
“A commitment to Ballykirk or a commitment to me? You can tell me the truth.”
“If I tell you the truth, you’ll
want
me to leave,” she countered. Gelsey raked her hands through her wavy hair, sighing softly as she tipped her head back. “I just need to have a moment to myself, a chance to take a breath without someone expecting something from me.”
“Are you married?” Kellan asked.
“No!” Gelsey looked surprised. “No, there’s no one. Not anymore.”
“But there was?”
“It’s over. Completely over. I swear to you.”
A long silence grew between them. Gelsey reached out and took his hand, carefully lacing her fingers through his. “What difference does it make who we were?” she asked. “We began when you found me on the beach.”
Kellan’s gaze fell to her mouth, and without a second thought, he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her into a long and languid kiss. She was right. He didn’t care about anything beyond what they’d shared together. And though he knew she wasn’t an amnesiac or a mermaid, that didn’t matter, either. She was here with him now and that’s all he cared about.
5
THE HILLS WERE SHROUDED in a dense mist as Gelsey navigated the battered Fiat toward Winterhill. She’d spent her last four or five Christmases skiing, surrounded by snow and plenty of twinkly lights. It was a bit odd to be staring out at fog.
Kellan had invited her to accompany him to Cork to pick up a set of plans he’d been waiting for and do a bit of Christmas shopping, but Gelsey had decided to take the morning for herself.
Everything was moving so fast in Ballykirk. Her feelings for Kellan were growing deeper with each day and night they spent together. And though he still questioned her about her past, he seemed to take her evasive answers with less frustration. So, had the time come to just be honest with him?
Their nights in bed were proof of his desire and their easygoing way with each other outside the bedroom marked a growing trust and friendship. But passion and friendship didn’t necessarily add up to a future together. Gelsey had been through enough “relationships” to know how easily they fractured. And how quickly she grew bored.
She slowed the car as it neared a curve, sighing softly. How nice it would be to believe in love. To know that there was a man out there who could ensure complete happiness for the rest of her life. She’d been chasing that dream her entire life, but had never really believed it would come true.
At least she could make a real life for herself, a life with a job and a place to live, important things to occupy her day.
She’d stopped at the shop that morning, just to chat with Maeve about her job responsibilities. Though Gelsey couldn’t offer any retail experience, she could offer enthusiasm and she saw incredible potential in the business that Maeve had started. When Maeve mentioned she was interested in selling the shop, the foundation of a new life had begun to take shape in her mind.
Why not make a life in Ballykirk? She could live at Winterhill and turn the shop into a thriving business. There was a huge market for unusual boutique skin-care products, especially those made of natural ingredients. She knew women who paid thousands of dollars for a small jar of sheep placenta.
But until her problems in Italy were solved, until she faced the consequences of what she’d done, there could be no future for her in Ballykirk and no future with Kellan. The thought of jail, for something as silly as a punch in the face, was almost more than she could bear. She wasn’t a criminal, but she’d done something that had broken the law.
Six months had passed and it still loomed over her like a big black cloud, obscuring any sunshine or hope she had. Antonio had been there and up until their fight, had promised to testify to what had happened. But now, she wasn’t sure he’d hold up his end of the bargain.
The stone pillars flanking the driveway at Winterhill appeared out of the fog. A feeling of relief washed over her at the sight of the old stone house. This was the only home she’d ever really known. Every summer, she’d arrived still dressed in her school uniform, ready to throw aside the rules and regulations for a summer full of fantasies.
Her grandmother had died six years ago, and since then, she hadn’t been back. But three months ago, it had been the only place left to her, the only place in the world she could hide. Gelsey still expected her to be waiting at the door when she drove up to the house, her arms thrown wide and her eyes filled with tears of joy.
This would be a good place to start again, Gelsey mused. She could be happy here. She honked the horn, then smiled as the front door opened. Her grandmother’s housekeeper came rushing out, her hands clutching her apron. Gelsey stepped out of the car only to be enveloped in Caroline’s embrace.
“Oh, I should be livid, I should,” Caroline said in her thick Irish brogue. “Why haven’t you phoned more than once? I’ve been worrying myself sick.”
“I told you I was safe,” she said.
“Safe? Look at this car you’re drivin’! It’s an accident waitin’ to happen.”
Gelsey looped her arm through Caroline’s. “Come on, then. Let’s have a cup of tea and I’ll tell you all about my adventures in the real world.”
“I’m not certain I want to hear,” Caroline teased. “Are you driving without a permit?”
“No, I have a Spanish driver’s license. I think it’s good here.”
“And where does that car come from?”
The housekeeper knew all of Gelsey’s problems. Confession had been good for the soul and Gelsey had needed at least one person who understood what she’d done to her life. But no she couldn’t wait to tell Caroline about her job and all the possibilities for her future in Ballykirk.
“Your mother and father have been calling,” Caroline said. “They’ve been keeping up with the news on your case and they’re worried.”
“It’s my problem,” Gelsey said. “I’ll deal with it.”
Caroline gave her hand a squeeze as they walked to the front door. “Now, I want you to know that I haven’t finished yet.”
“Finished what?” Gelsey asked.
The housekeeper threw the door open and Gelsey stepped into the spacious foyer. “Christmas.”
Gelsey gasped as she saw the beautiful pine garlands and twinkling lights. “Oh, look at this.” Slowly, she took it all in, then stopped in front of a Christmas tree that sat just inside the parlor. It was decorated in an old-fashioned style, with faded blown-glass ornaments and tinsel and real candles on the tips of the boughs.
“Your grandmother used to insist that we do it up well,” Caroline explained. “Christmas was her favorite day of the year, except for the day that you arrived at Winterhill for your summer holiday.”
“I remember these,” Gelsey said, reaching out to touch one of the candles. “I spent Christmas here one year when I was—”