by Nora Roberts
“Stop fussing,” Dee said. Then she laughed as her uncle grabbed her in a fierce hug.
“How’s my best girl?”
“Fit as a fiddle and glad to be home. Look what we brought back with us from Skibbereen.” Still laughing, she held out a hand to Erin. “You remember Erin McKinnon, Uncle Paddy. Mary and Matthew McKinnon’s daughter.”
“Erin McKinnon?” His face seemed to scrunch together as he thought back. Then, with a hoot, he was beaming. “Erin McKinnon, is it? Faith, lass, the last time I saw you you were no more than a baby. I used to raise a glass with your da now and then, but you wouldn’t be remembering that.”
“No, but they still speak of Paddy Cunnane in the village.”
“Do they now?” He grinned as if he knew exactly what was said. “Well, get inside out of the cold.”
“I can help with the bags,” Erin began as Adelia started to shoo her children indoors.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d go with Dee, let her show you your room.” Travis was already pulling out the first of the luggage. Even as he set them in the drive, his gaze was following his wife. “She doesn’t like to admit she gets tired, and having you to fuss over will keep her from overdoing.”
Erin stood a moment, torn between carrying her own weight and doing what was asked of her. “All right. If you like.”
“It wouldn’t hurt if you told her you’d like to sit down with a cup of tea.”
Quietly domineering, Erin thought again. On impulse, she leaned over and kissed Travis’s cheek. “Your wife’s a fortunate woman. I’ll see that she rests without knowing she’s been maneuvered into it.” Still, she picked up one of the cases and took it inside with her.
The warmth struck her immediately, not just the change of temperature but the colors and the feel of the house itself. The children were already racing through the rooms as if they wanted to make sure nothing had changed in their absence.
“You’ll want to go up first, see your room.” Dee was already stripping off her gloves and laying them on an ornamental table in the hall. Hooking her arm through Erin’s, she started up the stairs. “You’ll tell me if it suits you or not, and if there’s anything else you want. As soon as you feel settled in, I’ll show you the rest.”
Erin only nodded. The space alone left her speechless. Adelia opened a door and gestured her inside.
“This is the guest room. I wish we’d had time to have some flowers for you.” She glanced around the room, regretting she hadn’t been able to add a few more personal touches. “The bath’s down the end of the hall, and I’m sorry to say the children are always flinging wet towels around and making a mess of it.”
The room was done in gray and rose with a big brass bed and a thick carpet. The furniture was a rich mahogany with gleaming brass pulls and a tall framed mirror over the bureau. There were knickknacks here and there, a little china dog, a rose-colored goblet, more brass in a whimsical study of a lion. The terrace doors showed the white expanse of snow through gauzy curtains, making a dreamlike boundary between warmth and cold. Unable to speak, Erin gripped her case in both hands and just looked.
“Will it suit you? You’re free to change anything you like.”
“No.” Erin managed to get past the block in her throat, but her hands didn’t relax on the handle of the case. “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say it pleases you.” Gently Dee pried the case from her. “I want you to feel comfortable, Erin, at home. I know what it’s like to leave things behind and come to someplace strange.”
Erin took a deep breath. She wasn’t able to bear it, not for another second. “I don’t deserve this.”
“What foolishness.” Businesslike, Dee set the case on the bed with the intention of helping her cousin unpack.
“No, please.” Erin put her hand over Dee’s, then sat. She didn’t want her cousin to tire herself, and she didn’t want her to see what a pitiful amount she’d brought with her. “I have to confess.”
Amused, Dee sat beside her. “Do you want a priest?”
With a watery laugh that shamed her, Erin shook her head. “I’ve been so jealous of you.” There, it was out.
Dee considered a minute. “But you’re much prettier than I am.”
“No, that’s not true, and that’s not it, in any case.” Erin opened her mouth again, then let out a long breath. “Oh, I hate confession.”
“Me, too. Sinning just comes natural to some of us.”
Erin glanced over, saw both the warmth and humor and relaxed. “It comes natural enough to me. I was jealous of you. Am,” she corrected, determined to make a clean breast of it. “I’d think about you here in a big, beautiful house, with pretty things and pretty clothes, your family, all the things that go with it, and I’d just near die with envy. When I met you at the airport that day, I was resentful and nervous.”
“Nervous?” She could pass over resentment easily. “About seeing me? Erin, we all but grew up together.”
“But you moved here, and you’re rich.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve a powerful lust for money.”
A smile trembled on Dee’s lips, but she managed to control it. “Well, that doesn’t seem like a very big sin to me. A couple of days in purgatory, maybe. Erin, I know what it is not to have and to wish for more. I don’t think less of you for envying me—in truth, I’m flattered. I suppose that’s a sin, too,” she added after a moment’s thought.
“It’s worse because you’re so kind to me, all of you, and I feel like I’m using you.”
“Maybe you are. But I’m using you as well, to bring Ireland a little closer, to be my friend. I have a sister—Travis’s sister. But she moved away about two years ago. I can’t tell you how much I miss her. I guess I was hoping you’d fill the hole.”
Because her conscience was soothed by the admission, Erin touched a hand to Dee’s. “I guess it’s not so bad if we use each other.”
“Let’s just see what happens. Now I’ll help you unpack.”
“Let’s leave it. I’d really like to go down and have a cup of tea.”
As Erin rose, Adelia eyed her. “Did Travis tell you to keep me off my feet?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lying’s a sin, too,” Dee reminded her, but she smiled as she led her downstairs.
***
She dreamed of Ireland that night, of the heady green hills and the soft scent of heather. She saw the dark mountains and the clouds that rushed across the sky ahead of the wind. And her farm, with its rich plowed earth and grazing cows. She dreamed of her mother, telling her goodbye with a smile even as a tear slid down her cheek. Of her father, holding her so tight her ribs had ached. She heard each of her brothers teasing her, one by one.
She cried for Ireland that night, slow, quiet tears for a land she’d left behind and carried with her.
But when she woke, her eyes were dry and her mind clear. She’d made her break, chosen her path, and she’d best be getting on with it.
The plain gray dress she chose was made sturdily and fit well. Her mother’s stitches were always true. Erin started to pin her hair up, then changed her mind and tamed it into a braid. She studied herself with what she hoped was a critical and objective eye. Suitable for work, Erin decided, then started downstairs.
She heard the hoopla from the kitchen the moment she’d reached the first floor. At ease with confusion, she headed toward it.
“You’ll have plenty to tell your friends at school.” Hannah was at the stove, lecturing Brendon as she scooped up scrambled eggs.
“You’ve missed two weeks, my lad.” At the kitchen table, Dee was fussing with a ribbon in Keeley’s hair. “There’s no reason in the world you shouldn’t go back to school today.”
“I
have jet lag.” He made a hideous face at his sister, then attacked the eggs Hannah set in front of him.
“Jet lag, is it?” With an effort, Dee kept a straight face. After kissing the top of Keeley’s hair, she nudged her daughter toward her own breakfast. “Well, if that’s the truth of it, I suppose we have to forget those flying lessons when you’re sixteen. A jet pilot can’t be having jet lag.”
“Maybe it’s not jet lag,” Brendon corrected without missing a beat. “It’s probably some foreign disease I caught when we were in Ireland.”
“Bog fever,” Erin said from the doorway. Clucking her tongue, she walked over to rest a hand on Brendon’s brow. “Sure and that’s the most horrible plague in Ireland.”
“Bog fever?” Dee made sure there was a tremor in her voice. “Oh, no, Erin, it couldn’t be. Not my baby.”
“Young boys are the ones who catch it easiest, I’m afraid. There’s only one cure, you know.”
Dee shuddered and closed her eyes. “Oh, not that. Poor darling, poor little lad. I don’t think I could bear it.”
“If the boy has bog fever, it has to be done.” Erin put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “Nothing but raw spinach and turnip greens for ten days. It’s the only hope for it.”
“Raw spinach?” Brendon felt his little stomach turn over. He wasn’t sure precisely what turnip greens were, but they sounded disgusting. “I feel a lot better.”
“Are you sure?” Dee leaned over to check his brow herself. “He seems cool enough, but I don’t know if we should take any chances.”
“I feel fine.” To prove his point, he jumped up and grabbed his coat. “Come on, Keeley, we don’t want to miss the bus.”
“Well, if you’re sure . . . ” Dee rose to kiss his cheek, then Keeley’s. “Uncle Paddy’s going to drive you to the end of the lane. It’s cold, so stay in the car until the bus comes.”
Dee waited until the door slammed behind them before she lowered herself in the chair again and howled with laughter. “Bog fever? Where in the blue heaven did you dig that up?”
“Ma always used it on Joe. It never failed.”
“You’ve a quick mind.” Hannah chuckled as she turned around. “What can I fix you for breakfast?”
“Oh, I don’t—”
“If you think Mrs. Malloy can cook, wait until you taste Hannah’s muffins.” Understanding her cousin’s embarrassment, Dee took the cloth off a little wicker basket. “Why don’t you have some eggs to go with it? I have the appetite of a hog when I’m carrying, and I hate to eat alone.”
“Coffee?” Hannah was by her shoulder with the pot.
“Please. Thank you. Ah, is Travis not up yet?”
“Up and gone,” Dee said comfortably. “He’s been down at the stables for more than an hour. When he travels on business, I’m never sure if he misses me or the horses more.” She glanced at the muffins, lectured herself, then took another anyway. After all, she was eating for three. “Brendon’s in the first grade now, and Keeley goes mornings to kindergarten. So there’s only Brady.” She gestured to the high chair where he sat, his face covered with oatmeal as he sang to his fingers. “He’s the best-tempered child in the world, if I do say so myself. Now what would you like to do today?”
“Actually, I thought I’d go over to Mr. Logan’s and begin work.”
“Already?” Dee smiled her thanks at Hannah as the breakfast plates were set in front of them. “You’ve only just got here. Surely Burke’s willing to give you a day or two to get your bearings.”
“I know, but I’m anxious to get started, to see what there is to be done. And to make certain I can do it.”
“I can’t imagine Burke Logan putting anyone on his payroll who didn’t know their business.”
“It’s different for me. Even thinking in dollars instead of pounds is different. If I’m in the middle of it working my way out, I won’t worry so much about making a mess.”
Dee remembered how anxious she herself had been to begin work when she’d come to America, to prove to herself she was still competent and able to make her own way. “All right, then, I’ll drive you over myself after breakfast.”
“Not on your life, missy,” Hannah said from the stove.
“Oh, for pity sakes, I can still fit behind the wheel of a car.”
“You’re not driving anywhere until you have your next checkup and the doctor clears it. Paddy can take Miss McKinnon.”
Dee wrinkled her nose at Hannah’s back, but subsided. “I’m a prisoner in my own house. If I go down to the stables, Travis has every hand on the place watching me like a hawk. You’d think I never had a baby before.”
“Twins come early, as you know very well.”
“The sooner the better.” Then she smiled. “Well, I’ll just stay in and plan the party. And Brady and I can build block houses, can’t we, love?”
In answer, he squealed and slapped his hand into his oatmeal.
“After he has a bath.”
“Why don’t I take care of that?” Rising, Erin moved over to free Brady from his high chair.
“You’re not going to start pampering me, too. I’ll go mad.”
“Nothing of the kind. I just think it’s time this handsome young man and I got better acquainted.”
By the time she was finished, Erin had to clean the oatmeal off herself as well. Bundled inside a cardigan and a coat, she drove with Paddy Cunnane to Burke’s neighboring horse farm. The nerves were back. She could feel them tense in her fingers as she curled them together.
It was a waste of time to be nervous about the likes of him, she told herself. What had happened on that stormy morning in the shed was over and done with. Now they were nothing more than boss and employee. He’d said he expected a day’s work for a day’s pay, and she intended to give it to him.
Whatever other feelings she’d had had been born of the moment. Lust, she said firmly, telling herself she was mature enough to face that as a fact of life. Just as she would be strong enough to resist it.
She was a bookkeeper now. Her nerves were suddenly tinged with excitement. A bookkeeper, she repeated silently, with a good job and a good wage. Within the month she could start sending money home, with enough left over to buy... Lord, she couldn’t begin to think what would be first.
Paddy turned the Jeep under an arch. The sign was large, wrought iron, strong rather than fancy with its block letters. Three Aces. Erin caught her lip between her teeth. Was that the hand he’d won it with, or the hand the former owner had lost it with?
The snow lay here as well, but the rise of hill wasn’t as gentle. She saw a willow, old and gnarled, with its leaves dulled and yellow from winter. Perhaps in the summer it would look peaceful and lovely, but for now it looked fierce. Then she saw the house. She’d thought nothing could surprise her after the Grants’. She’d been wrong.
It had cupolas, like a castle, and the stone was dull and gray. The windows were arched, some of them with little parapets. Across from the steps and circled by the drive was an oval island that was now covered with untrammeled snow.
“Do people really live in places like this?” she said half to herself.
“Cunningham, he’d be the owner before Logan, liked to think of himself as royalty.” Paddy sniffed, but Erin wasn’t entirely sure if the sound was directed at the present or the former owner. “Put more money into fancying up this place than into the stables and the stock. Got a pool right inside the house.”
“You’re joking.”
“Indeed not. Right inside the house. Now you’ve only to call when you’ve finished here. I’ll come fetch you, or one of the boys will.”
“I’m obliged to you.” But her fingers seemed frozen on the handle.
“Good luck to you, lass.”
“Thanks.” Screwing up her courage,
she pushed out of the Jeep. She was grateful it stayed parked where it was as she climbed the stone steps to the front door.
And what a door, she thought. As big as a barn and all carved. She ran a hand over it before she pulled back the knocker. Erin counted slowly under her breath and waited. It was opened by a dark-haired woman with big eyes and a small, erect figure. Erin swallowed and kept her chin up.
“I’m Erin McKinnon, Mr. Logan’s bookkeeper.”
The woman eyed her silently, then stepped back. Erin managed to throw a smile to Paddy over her shoulder before she stepped inside.
By the saints, she thought, tongue-tied again as she stood in the atrium. She’d never seen anything to match it, with its high ceilings and lofty windows. It seemed the sun shone in from all directions and slanted over the leaves of thick green plants. A balcony ran all the way around in one huge circle, the rail gleaming and carved as the door had been. The heels of her sensible shoes clicked on the tile floor, then stopped as she stood, uncertain what to do next.
“I’ll tell Mr. Logan you’re here.”
Erin only nodded. The accent sounded Spanish, making her feel more out of place than ever. Erin wiped her hands on her skirt and thought she knew what Alice had felt like when she’d stepped through the looking glass.
“Are you eager to work, or did you just miss me?”
She turned, knowing she’d been caught gaping. He was in jeans and boots, and the smile was the same. The confidence she’d lost when she’d stepped inside came flooding back. It was the best defense.
“Eager to work and earn a wage.”
The cold and excitement had heightened the color in her cheeks and darkened her eyes. As she stood in the center of the big open room, Burke thought she looked ready and able to take on the world.
“You could have had a day or two to settle in.”
“I could, but I didn’t want it. I’m used to earning my way.”
“Fine. You’ll certainly earn it here.” He lifted a hand and gestured her to follow. “Morita, my last bookkeeper, managed to embezzle thirty thousand before the cage shut on him. In the process, he made a mess of the records. Your first priority is to straighten them out again. While you’re doing that, you’re to keep up the payroll and the current invoices.”