Megan laughed. “I know, but I’ll take it as one just the same. So you’ll talk to your mother and Luke and let me know tomorrow?”
“As if there was ever any doubt,” Moira muttered, then tempered her sarcasm with a more appropriate note of gratitude. “I do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“Even when I’m being pushy and demanding?”
“Even then.” Moira studied her closely. “You’re awfully confident of what the two of them will say, aren’t you?”
“I know they both want the best for you and your career,” Megan responded a little too carefully.
“You’ve already talked to them,” Moira accused.
“Not to Luke, but I might have mentioned to your mother that there were opportunities I didn’t think you should ignore. Hasn’t she said anything?”
“Not a word, which is surprising since she usually doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind. We had quite a long chat just the other day and none of this was mentioned. I know she’s come to admire you, so it’s odd that she didn’t rush to do your bidding, unless she’s in agreement with me that my place is here.”
“Or maybe she was afraid it would be counterproductive,” Megan suggested. “Sometimes suggestions coming from a parent don’t get the best reception. I’ve learned that from experience. I imagine your mother has, too.”
“We both are known for our stubborn, independent streaks,” Moira conceded.
“Don’t turn me down just because I tried to involve your mother,” Megan said. “Maybe that was overstepping on my part.”
“Maybe?” Moira gave her mentor a long look that actually caused her to squirm just a little.
“Okay, it was,” Megan conceded. “But if you look at this from every angle, you’ll see that it’s the next logical step for you to reach your goal.”
“I didn’t have any goals before I met you. I’m not sure mine are as lofty even now as yours are.”
“And that’s why you have me, to encourage you to reach higher. You’re talented, Moira. You need to dream bigger.”
“And to go against my instincts to be satisfied with what we’ve accomplished already?”
Megan leaned toward her, her expression earnest. “I hope you’ll decide against settling for that, when you can achieve so much more, Moira. Let us—Luke, your mother and me—help you get there. We only want you and your tremendous talent to get all the recognition you deserve.”
Moira thought of what her mother had said just the other day about holding out a hand and asking for help, about accepting it when it was offered. Perhaps she was being too stubborn for her own good. It surely wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it likely be the last. Perhaps it was time to break the pattern of saying no just to be contrary.
“We’ll talk it over,” she promised Megan. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Tomorrow?”
Moira smiled at her persistence. “Yes, tomorrow.”
*
Kiera sat in a corner of the pub, bouncing Kate on her knee. The baby gurgled with delight and reached for a handful of Kiera’s auburn hair. Kiera gently untangled her tiny fingers and placed them around the grip of a pacifier that so far Kate had been noisily reluctant to give up.
“How about this instead?” she coaxed. “Otherwise, I’ll soon not have a hair left on my head.”
In another of her contrary moves, Kate tossed the pacifier onto the floor.
“Not interested? Okay, what then? There must be something here that will be more entertaining than tugging on my hair.”
“I have something that might do,” Bryan said, coming out of the kitchen with one of the miniature frozen all-fruit ices he made just for the baby. He waved a strawberry-flavored one in front of Kate, who reached for it eagerly and bestowed one of her best smiles on him.
“She does love those,” Kiera said grudgingly. “What made you think of making them?”
Though she hadn’t really expected it, Bryan pulled up a chair. Since their truce, he’d taken a few minutes here and there to sit and talk to her. Without him bristling at every word she said, she’d increasingly come to enjoy his company. She especially looked forward to early mornings in the garden, both of them weeding companionably with few words spoken.
“I used to make them for my daughter when she was a baby and teething,” he said, not meeting her gaze as he spoke.
The unexpected and very personal revelation took Kiera by surprise. “You have a daughter?”
“I did,” he said, his face expressionless. His eyes, however, spoke volumes, the sorrow so deep it almost broke her heart.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bryan shook his head, waving off the sympathy. “It’s not that she died. As far as I know she’s very much alive.”
Once more, he’d caught her off guard. “As far as you know? I don’t understand.”
“Her mother took her and left when she was barely a year old. I haven’t seen or heard from them since.”
Surprise turned to shock. “And you haven’t tried to find them?”
“Of course I have,” he declared impatiently. “I filed missing persons reports. I hired private detectives.” He sighed. “But when an adult really wants to disappear, it’s apparently easier than you can imagine.”
Kiera tried to envision a circumstance in which a woman would take her child and run from someone, vanishing so thoroughly they couldn’t be found.
Bryan regarded her with a steady gaze. “Go ahead, ask. I know you’re imagining the worst, that I must have done something terrible to drive them into hiding.”
“Did you?” she asked evenly, not wanting to believe such a thing was possible. She and Bryan might have had a rocky start, but she’d come to believe he was a good man, albeit one who kept to himself. That distance had served her well, so she’d never tried to bridge the gap. Instead, she’d aimed for civility, a few cautious overtures of friendship and little more. She was no readier for more than he was, despite the undeniable, simmering attraction between them.
“I was neglectful, no question about it,” he confessed, the chattiness something new. He seemed intent, though, on making her understand. “I was just out of culinary school in New York, trying to make a name for myself. A chef’s hours are never easy, not at a top restaurant that’s crowded from opening till closing. The demands to get it right are extraordinary, the stress high. I thought I was doing it all for us, but the truth is, it probably only mattered to me. I was ambitious and believed what I’d been told, that I’d have my own top restaurant one day if I worked hard enough and paid my dues.”
Kiera had never worked in anyplace with fiery-tempered ambitious chefs, but she knew the demands of restaurants well enough. “You got caught up in the dream,” she concluded.
Bryan nodded. “And look where it got me. I wound up in a deli and then here.”
“What exactly is wrong with here?” she demanded, instantly indignant on Luke’s behalf. “It’s a fine pub and, despite the way I taunt you, you do a fine job.”
He looked startled by the faint praise. “A fine job?”
“Don’t be letting it go to your head. There’s room for improvement.”
A rare smile tugged at his lips. “Perhaps Luke was right,” he murmured, standing up.
“About?”
“A challenge being just what I need.”
He ran his fingers gently over Kate’s cheek, now smeared with the stain of strawberries.
As he walked back into the kitchen, Kiera stared after him, even as she wiped the baby’s face. She still couldn’t quite get over what he’d revealed to her, not just the facts of his past, but his pain. That was something she understood. It gave them something in common. She knew all too well that a bond such as that could be dangerous to a woman who didn’t want to risk her heart.
*
Kiera sat quietly for a time after Bryan had gone, distractedly playing with Kate to keep her occupie
d. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice Moira at first, staring at them from just inside the front door of the pub.
When her daughter realized she’d been spotted, she crossed the room and took Kate from Kiera’s arms. “What was that all about?” she asked. “You and Bryan? It looked intense.”
“Just having a word with each other,” Kiera said, reluctant to share what had been said in private.
“Not hurling words at each other?” Moira pressed. “That’s a pleasant change. It adds to the bond of friendship the two of you are developing.”
Kiera thought of the trust Bryan had just placed in her by talking about his daughter and allowing her to see what not having her in his life had cost him. The glimpse inside his heart had shifted things between them yet again.
“It was a good conversation, as a matter of fact.” Kiera focused her gaze on Moira. “What is that pink in your cheeks all about? Did you get overheated walking here or did things not go well in your meeting with Megan?”
“A little too well, if you want to know the truth. She’s found an opportunity for me to show my photographs in San Francisco.”
“That’s remarkable,” Kiera said enthusiastically. Seeing no such excitement in her daughter’s eyes, her own expression faltered. “It is, isn’t it?”
“As if you didn’t already know the answer to that. I know Megan’s been filling your head with information about the opportunities I’ve been avoiding and trying to enlist you to be on her side.”
Kiera saw no reason to deny the truth of that. “And have I added to the pressure on you?”
“No,” Moira conceded. “Thank you for that.”
“May I say, though, that I don’t entirely understand your reluctance to do what Megan is asking of you. You know her judgment is sound in this area. And I was there when she put off one gallery owner, an old friend, to protect you from being overextended, so I saw for myself that she’s only pressing you to do the shows that truly matter.”
“I didn’t realize there were offers she’s never even mentioned,” Moira said, clearly surprised. “That does make this one seem doubly important.”
“It’s San Francisco, too,” Kiera said wistfully. “Wouldn’t you love to see it? Remember when we used to look through those picture books from America and dreamed of traveling there someday even before your grandfather came over here? I never thought such a day would be possible, but here we both are.”
“Seeing San Francisco would be nice,” Moira admitted. “But this is a big show, bigger than any I’ve had before. Megan says I’d have to be gone at least three weeks.” She shook her head. “No, I can’t possibly be away so long.”
“And why not, if it’s what’s needed? It seems like a small sacrifice for such potentially impressive rewards.”
“Our agreement was that I’d never be away longer than a week—ten days at the absolute outside. Megan’s kept to that promise until now, but she says there’s no bending on this. The gallery owner is adamant about the commitment. He wants me there for extensive media coverage, a big opening night party and private meetings with some of his biggest collectors.”
“Then you’ll go for three weeks,” Kiera said decisively. “Luke and I will manage things with Kate quite well. We have Carrie as backup if we need to use the day care.” She gave Moira a hard look. “I’ve seen for myself that Kate loves it there. And the staff seems more than competent to look after her needs. I know perfectly well that I’m here as little more than window dressing, the Irish grandmama come to visit. We settled that weeks ago.”
Moira winced. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Of course it was. You and your grandfather were worried about me and dreamed up as many excuses as you could find to lure me here. You wanted me to feel needed. Don’t fret over the deception. I’m grateful. I find I like it here. It’s given me time with your grandfather and with you.”
“And with Kate,” Moira added.
“The best part of all,” Kiera agreed. “When you were a wee one, I was never able to experience the joy of the moments as I am with Kate.”
Moira looked surprised. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
Sorrow stole over Kiera at the memory of how little time she’d had for her own children. “Ah, Moira, you’ve no idea how many regrets I have about the things I missed with you and your brothers. All I could do back then was keep my head down and put one foot in front of the next to be sure we had food on the table and clothes that wouldn’t shame you.”
Moira sighed. “I suppose I never stopped to think about how difficult it must have been for you, how much you were missing. I just wanted a mum who was home, who baked cookies and such.”
“You’ve had a taste of my cookies,” Kiera reminded her wryly. “Were you really missing so much?”
The comment drew an unexpected burst of laughter. “Perhaps not so much.” Moira studied her intently. “You really wouldn’t mind helping out while I’m away?”
“It’s what I came for,” Kiera assured her. “And it would be my pleasure. Perhaps Luke, Kate and I could come to the opening of your exhibit and spend a day or two, if we wouldn’t be in the way. I wouldn’t mind getting a glimpse of San Francisco myself.”
Moira studied her, as if looking for any hint of reluctance, then seemed to come to a conclusion. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Moira said. “I’ll talk it over with Luke and we’ll work out the details. You should see more of the country. Truth be told, you were right about the daydreaming I did when we looked at those books. I wouldn’t mind riding on a San Francisco cable car and seeing the Golden Gate Bridge. I just don’t like being parted from Luke and the baby.”
“Which is why we’ll turn part of the trip into a family vacation, something that was all too rare when you and your brothers were young. That’s another of my regrets.”
“You took us to the beach,” Moira said. “I remember those Sundays when you’d pack a picnic and we’d take the train to the shore.”
“If you treasure those memories, I’m glad,” Kiera told her. “But there should have been so many more. I made it harder than it needed to be by not reaching out to my father. There’s a lesson in that for you.”
Moira laughed. “Yes, I can see that.”
Kiera reached over and took her daughter’s hand. “I’m proud of you, Moira.”
Moira seemed stunned by her praise. Kiera couldn’t miss the sheen of tears in her eyes and realized how rarely those words had probably been spoken. She’d never meant to be so stingy with them, but time had rushed by and then it was almost too late. Seeing how touched her daughter was, she realized that no matter how old or independent a woman was, no matter the depth of her pride or the loudness of her claims not to need anyone, she was never beyond wanting the approval of someone she loved.
*
Kiera was eager for a chance to speak to Bryan about everything he’d told her earlier in the day, but he seemed to be deliberately avoiding her. He even made it a point to come to the bar when it was at its busiest to inquire if she’d mind getting a ride home with Luke.
“I have a few things that will keep me here later than usual. There’s no need for you to wait around.”
Though she’d been about to argue, something in his expression told her it would be a waste of her breath. Her silent acquiescence, though, didn’t mean that she was ready to let the subject drop. Nor did she intend to wait long for answers.
At home after Luke dropped her off, she poured two glasses of wine, turned off the lights in her kitchen and walked over to Bryan’s deck to wait. She knew he’d breathe a sigh of relief at finding her house dark and that he’d assume she was inside, asleep.
It was one in the morning when he finally pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. She imagined he was feeling relieved and fairly pleased with himself as he came around back and was about to step onto his own deck.
“Nice try,” she said calmly, then held out the wine. “You might want
to take a sip of this before you start commenting on me invading your privacy. It might put you in a mellower mood.”
“Or you could go home without interrogating me,” he suggested, even as he took the glass. “That would work, too.”
Kiera laughed. “And let you get away with opening up a particularly complicated subject, then trying to sweep it right back under the rug?”
“That would be the kind way to handle what was a probably a misguided moment of candor on my part. I should never have said anything, Kiera. It’s old news.”
“Not that old. It obviously continues to trouble you years later. All those calls that have left you depressed and moody are tied in to what you told me earlier, aren’t they?”
He sighed and took a seat beside her. “I’ve never stopped searching,” he confirmed. “But now it’s time. There has been nothing but dead ends for years now. A sensible man would have given up.”
“Do you remember what I told you after that first call that left you so distraught?”
“That someday just making the effort would be what mattered?”
She smiled. “So you do listen to me on occasion?”
“I listen to every word you utter,” he said. “I just pick and choose what to ignore.”
“What a ringing endorsement of my wisdom,” she teased. “May I give you an example to explain what I mean?”
“The wine seems to be taking effect, so why not?”
“When I married Sean Malone all those years ago, as you may have guessed, it was against my parents’ wishes. It caused a huge rift, and I vowed never to speak to them again. As you also might have noticed, I have a stubborn streak. I would have kept to that vow, no matter how much I might have wanted to change things.”
She glanced over and saw that he was listening intently. “But through all those years,” she continued, “even when I remained stubbornly silent, my father kept reaching out. I knew he and my mother would be there, if I bent even a little and turned to them. Of course, I waited far too long and bent only when my mother was ill and dying, but my father had made it easier to take that step even then simply because he had never given up on me.”
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