by Katy Regnery
Despite the heaviness on his heart where Hallie was concerned, it was impossible not to crack a smile for his brother’s girlfriend. Brittany’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“Want me to make a campfire for tonight?” asked Ian. “S’mores and a sing-along?”
“I brought me guitar,” said Fin, “if you lads’ll join me in a song or two.”
“Yes yes yes!” screeched Brittany, bounding off Rory’s lap and racing to the pantry. “I love it!”
“Woman,” asked Rory over his shoulder, “what are you doing?”
“Seeing if Ian has graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate.”
“If he doesn’t, the kitchen does,” said Rory. “Come back here and warm up my lap again.”
“Oh, Lord,” groaned Fin, “are you two gonna go at it again?”
“Jealous much?” asked Rory.
“Sick to me stomach much?” asked Fin with a snort. “I’d like to actually enjoy me breakfast without it comin’ up while I’m eatin’.”
“Oh!” cried Brittany, totally ignoring Fin. “I almost forgot.” Her eyes slid to Ian. “I invited Hallie and Jenny to join in the fun today.”
“Wait. You did what?” asked Ian.
Brittany shrugged. “Suzanne and Connor have a little girl about the same age as Jenny. I thought it would be fun for them.”
But not for me, thought Ian.
As much as he liked being around Hallie, it was painful too, because she had nothing but disdain for him. To spend an entire day together? Doing fun things in a small group? It was going to be beyond awkward.
He pushed away from the table, giving his future sister-in-law a sour look. “Well, that’s just great, Britt.”
“I can’t figure out yer brother, Rory. He obviously likes the lass, but here he’s lookin’ down in the dumps that she’s comin’ along.” Finian humphed. “She’s a good-lookin’ woman. Maybe I’ll see if she’s—”
“You do it and you’ll lose teeth,” growled Ian, flashing furious eyes at his cousin.
“Oh, ho, ho! Lookit that. Yer man ain’t playin’ now, eh?”
Ian cracked his knuckles. “Back off, Fin.”
“Stand down, boyo.” Finian held up his hands. “Too much baggage for me anyway…with that kid and all. I need a free-spirited lass.”
Brittany’s head whipped around and she stared at the Haven cousin for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Is that right?”
“What’s that mean, then?” asked Finian, looking nervous. “That’s the look a woman gets when she’s got ideas.”
“Indeed,” said Brittany, her grin widening. “Free-spirited, huh? That’s what you want?”
“What? Uh. No. I mean, no thank you. I don’t want nothin’. Shite. I gotta—I’m leavin’!” Finian’s chair scraped the floor as he backed away from the table, grabbed his plate, and ran for the safety of his bedroom.
Ian chuckled. “He just got untangled from a girl named Cindy.”
“Huh,” said Brittany. “I wonder how he feels about the name Tate…”
“What’re you up to?” asked Rory.
“Not a thing,” said Brittany, turning to Ian. “Hey, would you mind heading over to Colby Cottage in in ten minutes? Rory and I have to go back to our place so I can get my purse, and we’re all meeting in the parking lot at nine. It would help if you could go get the girls.”
Rory’s eyebrows knitted together. “What? Your purse is in the—”
“Shh!” said Brittany to Rory. “Ian? What do you say?”
“I promise you,” said Ian, giving her a look, “Hallie would prefer anyone else—literally, anyone else on the planet—pick her up.”
“Ah,” said Brittany, taking Rory’s hand and pulling him up from his chair, “but there is no one else, and I promised her a ride. Please, Ian. Be a love. For me?”
“Fine,” he grunted, steeling himself for Hallie’s perpetually wounded, disapproving face when he pulled up in front of her cottage.
As Brittany and Rory headed out, Ian went back to his room, brushed his hair into a neat ponytail and shrugged into his tan corduroy barn jacket. He grabbed his keys and headed downstairs, through the Summerhaven office, devoid of Mrs. T’s presence on an off-season Saturday. When Tierney had asked to spend the weekend at Summerhaven with Burr’s family, they’d decided to close the facility to any other guests.
Hopping into the truck, a feeling of anticipation made his belly flutter like a teenager. As he drew closer to her place, he couldn’t deny the way he felt: happy to be close to her, even if she didn’t want him there, and hopeful that maybe, someday, she wouldn’t hate him quite as much as she did now.
Parking the truck by the front gate, he walked around the hood and stepped into the garden, looking up as the front door swung open. Jenny sprinted from the front door, hurtling herself against his legs and hugging him around the knees.
“Mr. Haven! I’m getting a new friend today!”
For the first time since Hallie and Jenny had moved to New Hampshire, Ian reached down and swooped Jenny up into his arms, grinning at her sweet little face, so close to his. “I know it! Her name’s Bridey and I heard she’s real nice.”
Jenny’s eyes sparkled with happiness. “Mommy said we’re going to a punkin patch.”
“Yep,” said Ian, “and apple picking. Do you like apples, ladybug?”
“Yes!”
“And I think Auntie Britt said we’re going on a boat ride too.”
“Wow!” gasped Jenny, who hugged Luna between them. “I never been on a boat ride!”
“Never?” Ian acted shocked. “Well, you’re going to love it.”
“And then what?” asked Jenny.
“Well,” he said, “I heard something about s’mores and songs around a campfire.”
Jenny clapped her hands, then said, “I don’t know what none of that is!”
Ian chuckled at her. “S’mores are sandwiches made of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. You like chocolate, don’t you?”
“Yummy!”
“And a campfire is a big fire outside. People sit around it and sing songs.”
“Like what songs?”
“Do you know ‘The Wild Rover’? Or maybe ‘Molly Malone’?”
She crinkled her nose at him. “No! I don’t know those songs!”
“Oh, wait a second!” said Ian, winking at her. “I know your favorite. It’s ‘Carrickfergus’!”
“I can’t even say that!” exclaimed Jenny, placing her little hands on his bearded cheeks. “You know what, Mr. Haven?”
“No, ladybug. Tell me.”
She lowered her voice, leaning forward until their noses touched. “I think you’re magical.”
Ian’s breath caught as he looked into her blue eyes, so much like her mother’s. Why these words moved him so deeply, he wasn’t sure. Maybe because they were delivered so earnestly. Or maybe because it was a long, long time since he’d felt anything close to “magical.” He hugged her close. “You too, ladybug. I think you’re magical too.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and Ian caught sight of Hallie, who stood in the doorway, her eyes glistening with tears as she watched them.
Thank you, she mouthed, blinking her eyes against the gathered moisture.
Ian nodded, setting Jenny gently back down on the ground.
“I’m getting in the truck,” she announced, racing down the flagstones and through the gate. “Let’s go, Mr. Haven!”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that happy,” said Hallie, sniffling softly as her eyes tracked her daughter. “A really long time.”
“She’s a corker,” said Ian.
“A corker,” said Hallie, turning to close the front door and lock it. She turned back around, and the bright fall sun shone on her dirty-blonde hair, making it golden. And Ian felt in his bones and blood, like it had always been there and would never go away, a deep and intense rush of love for her that had somehow survived their ten long years
apart. “You used to call me that sometimes too.”
He stared at her. “I might fall over dead if that’s actually a good memory of me.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “If you die, you’ll really disappoint my daughter.”
“Speaking of her, you know what would be nice? Just for today?”
Hallie’s chest rose under her cream-colored fleece jacket, and her eyes lost their short-lived sparkle, shuttering a little in wariness. “What?”
“A truce,” said Ian.
“A truce.”
He nodded. “We don’t have to be friends. It’s impossible. I know. But how about we just don’t hate each other today?”
Her chest lowered as she sighed, and to his surprise, her lips tilted up just the tiniest bit. “Just for today?” she clarified.
“Full-on hate back in action tomorrow.”
Her lips twitched again, and he held his breath as he waited for her answer.
“Okay, Irish.” She held out her hand. “Just for today.”
Irish.
His heart stopped for two reasons.
One, she hadn’t called him that nickname since they’d resurfaced in one another’s lives, and it felt so fucking good, he could barely contain the rush he felt.
And two, he looked down, hesitating for a moment. Touch. She was inviting him to touch her. His skin against hers. Her hand in his as it had been so many times before, as he’d never expected it to be again.
He reached forward, his eyes locked with hers as he enveloped her hand in his.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the warmth of her touch from the tips of his toes to the tip of his ponytail and everywhere in between. And his heart beat out a primal and fierce rhythm. Mine. Mine. Mine. He held his breath and searched her eyes, watching as her pink lips parted, as though she felt the same jolt of energy pass between them.
“Umm,” she murmured.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly between them and Ian fought to keep his eyes on her face.
“Halcyon,” he whispered.
She jerked her hand away from his, wiping it on the thigh of her jeans, as though hoping it would erase whatever they’d just shared. She’d looked down as she pulled away, but now she glanced up at him again. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her face into a neutral expression, though there was nothing she could do about the two bright-pink spots high on her cheeks.
“I guess we should go,” she said.
Ian nodded, gesturing with his hand toward the truck and hoping she didn’t see the way it trembled.
***
Leave it to Brittany…, thought Hallie, sitting across from her friend at the roaring campfire.
“Mommy! Mr. Haven is showing me and Bridey how to roast a marshmallow.”
“Yum,” said Hallie, reaching for one of her daughter’s braids and tugging lightly. “Did you have fun today?”
Jenny beamed at her. “The best day ever!”
…to plan the best day ever. She finished the thought using her daughter’s words, because they so similarly mirrored her own.
The day’s adventures had included a visit to the Pumpkin Festival, where Bridey and Jenny had sat together on every ride, giggling like old friends while the adults looked on. Ian, Rory, Burr, Connor, and Finian had dunked for apples, with Burr, who basically drenched the entire upper part of his body, coming out as the winner, much to Bridey’s delight.
They’d taken a hayride through an apple orchard and had cider donuts for lunch. And when they’d returned to Summerhaven in the late afternoon, they’d taken a two-hour cruise around Squam Lake, with the Havens, Brittany, and Hallie all pointing out their favorite spots while Suzanne and Connor snuggled under a blanket in the corner of the pontoon with mugs of beer and big smiles. Dinner had consisted of chili and cornbread in the dining room, with the Haven siblings and Finian giving each other a hard time and reminiscing about their shared childhood. And when there was a lull in the conversation, there was always Connor, Suzanne, and Burr, or Brittany and Hallie, to share a story of their own.
It had been a long, long time since Hallie had felt like she had a group of friends. Sergio was charming but not one for deep friendships, so they hadn’t made many couple-friends during the course of their marriage. Hallie had friends at the hospital where she worked, of course, but they were the sort of friends you met for lunch in the cafeteria, not the kind you saw outside of work. Being an only child had only added to her sense of isolation. Once Hallie’s parents moved to Florida, she was all alone but for Sergio, work friends, and—occasionally—Brittany.
So today? Feeling like a part of this big gregarious Irish family? It was heaven for her and for her daughter, who’d glowed all day, holding hands with Ian—or even, once or twice, with her. Hallie could feel their relationship mending day by day, hour by hour, and to see her happy, chatty little girl restored to her was worth everything.
Her eyes flicked up, watching Ian throw back his head and laugh at something the two little girls said, and Hallie couldn’t help a small smile of her own, which—damn it—Ian managed to catch as his gaze slid to hers.
She looked away quickly, reaching for one of the blankets the Havens had left folded on logs around the campfire and pulling it across her lap.
She didn’t want to care for Ian.
She wanted it less than anything else she could think of.
But since Wednesday, when he’d declared his intentions to “heal them,” to “fix things,” and to “repair them,” she couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not she wanted to be healed, fixed, and repaired. Hate had been her loyal companion for so long. Letting go of it felt dangerous, felt foolish, felt…scary.
And yet she watched this bear of a man with her tiny daughter—the way he paid attention to her and made her feel important, the way he’d intuitively gathered that she desperately needed a strong, kind male figure in her life, and had filled that position without being asked. Gently. Without a request for anything in return except for the chance to make peace between them.
It squeezed her heart in a way that frightened her.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Britt, sitting down next to Hallie and stealing half the blanket.
Hallie put her head on her friend’s shoulder and sighed. “Life is complicated.”
“Yes,” agreed Britt, who’d had a tumultuous year of her own, but had managed to find a happy place for herself with Rory. “No doubt about it.”
“Today was so nice,” said Hallie. “We really needed it.”
Britt took a deep breath and sighed. “He calls her ‘ladybug.’”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice breaking a little.
“I’ve never seen Ian around kids before, but wow, he was literally born for it.”
Hallie sniffled softly. “Stop, Britt. Please.”
“One more thing, and then we’ll change the subject.”
“What?”
“He has changed. I’ve been here since the day he came back, Hal, and he’s…different. His life was pretty awful before he got here. But he committed to getting sober and look at him. He’s over two hundred days clean now. I just…I feel like…he’s not the same boy you knew. He’s a man now.”
And what a man.
His black hair was back in a sexy ponytail, and in the firelight, his black beard made him look fierce, like one of the Scottish warriors from Outlander. But his eyes. As green as summer ivy, they softened for Jenny, or for Brittany, or for…her. And then? She could barely keep track of what he was saying or what she was doing. And today? When she’d stupidly held out her hand to shake on their truce? She’d felt his touch everywhere in her body, parts of her blooming and opening for the first time in years, the unfamiliar feeling of desire making her dizzy and weak as she remembered those hands in her hair, on her face, in her body, wringing such pleasure from her that no man since had ever been able to compare.
She gulped softly. “It’s confusing.”
“I’m sure it is,” said Britt.
“He hurt me.”
“What he did was…”
Britt’s voice drifted off, and Hallie filled in the blank with a million different words, including unforgiveable, unpardonable, disgraceful.
So why, after just a week in Ian’s presence, were there whisperings in her heart about forgiveness and pardon and grace?
“Mommy and Auntie Britt! Look!”
Jenny suddenly appeared in front of them with her lips covered in sticky white marshmallow, a roasting stick holding a perfectly browned confection, and melting chocolate all over her fingers.
“You’re going to need a bath when we get home,” said Hallie, chuckling at her baby as she reached into her purse for wet wipes.
When she was clean, she pulled Jenny onto her lap, her heart full of gratitude when her daughter didn’t immediately pull away.
Rory, Ian, Tierney, and Finian were taking seats across the fire from where Brittany and Hallie were sitting, with the Rileys and Bridey to their right and Burr sitting beside Tierney to their left. Finian took out his guitar, tuning it softly as his cousins looked on in anticipation.
When Hallie and Brittany were teens, most of the campfire Fridays at Summerhaven had included traditional camp songs, but at least once every summer, the five Havens (with whatever cousins were visiting at the time) hosted an Irish jam session wherein anyone who played an instrument added to the gaiety, and between Irish songs in English and Gaelic, Mrs. Haven would tell tales and jokes about Ireland. It was one of Hallie’s favorite nights of every summer, so she felt a mixture of nostalgia and excitement as Finian turned to his cousins and asked, “What’re we startin’ with, lads?”
“‘Raglan Road’?” suggested Tierney. “It’s an autumn day, after all.”
“One vote for ‘Raglan Road,’” said Finian, looking around the circle.
“Two,” said Burr.
“Three,” said his sister, Suzanne.
“Eh. Bloody Limerick’s votin’ too,” said Finian, grinning at the O’Leary siblings, Burr and Suzanne. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
The guitar accompanied those singing, and Hallie closed her eyes, feeling the sweet weight of her daughter on her lap, the kindness of her friend by her side, the warmth of the fire on her cheeks, and the gaiety of the voices singing.
