by Nan Dixon
“Ouch.” He grabbed at her hand.
She stepped out of his reach. “I have things to do.”
“You can’t spare a minute?” His temper was igniting, and he yanked it under control. “Sixty seconds?”
She scraped leftover food into a bin. “What for?”
Had they really kissed multiple times? They were so out of sync, it was like they were on different planets. “I want to explore another angle. Another premise.”
“Rich versus poor isn’t enough for you? You found another way to humiliate us?”
“Dolley.” Frustration infused her name.
She hung her head and exhaled. “One minute.”
“I want to find these people’s descendants.” He spread the papers in front of her and pointed at the names. “There’s too many to be a coincidence. I think James and Fiona helped their countrymen. Help me find them.”
She stared at the paper. Silent.
Was he losing her? Losing her family?
“If it’s true James and Fiona helped their countrymen, that’s the story you’ll tell?” Her eyes swam with emotion.
“I would never hurt your family.” He moved around the counter, turning her to face him.
She chewed her lip. “It was your questions...” Her voice trailed off. Vulnerability filled her face.
“Trust me.” He touched her chin, wanting to kiss her worries away.
“I’m not good at trusting men.” She stroked his cheek.
He caught her hand, relieved she would reach out to him. “Maybe if we work together on this, you’ll start to trust me.”
“Maybe.” Her arms circled his waist.
He pulled her close and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you.”
His world righted. They’d better be able to verify that James and Fiona had truly helped the immigrants. Because if he couldn’t convince his producer this was a viable story line, Dolley would hate him.
Then he’d lose the Fitzgeralds. Not acceptable.
* * *
DOLLEY KNEW THE exact moment Liam entered the kitchen. The air changed. Just like before a lightning storm and the hairs on her arm stood on end. She forced herself not to rush to his side.
She wanted to trust him.
He bent and brushed a hello kiss on her mouth.
Licking her lips, she tasted whiskey. “You’ve been into the Jameson.”
He held up a tumbler, the ice rattling in the glass. “I have.”
Gray pushed open the courtyard door, shedding his coat. “I know I just left Boston, and it was snowing, but it’s cold here.” His gaze zeroed in on Liam’s glass as he headed for the fire. “That looks appealing.”
“Warm up and I’ll fetch a glass.” Liam headed to the door but turned back. “Daniel, what about you?”
Daniel stood in front of the fire with his arm around Bess’s shoulders, like they were joined at the hip. “I’ll take the same. Thanks.”
Dolley watched Liam go. She’d seen him do small things like pouring wine or helping her sisters and the staff all the time. He’d even acted as bellhop when Nigel or another staff member wasn’t around.
He’d woven himself into the fabric of the B and B, and she couldn’t imagine life without him. Doubt crawled through her like a virus. Was there a purpose behind his kindness?
“Anything I can do?” she asked Abby, unable to stand still.
“Get water for us?”
Dolley filled the pitcher and added lemons and ice.
When Liam backed through the door and headed to the sitting area, she stared at him.
Bess came to the table with a stack of plates. “Look at those three men.”
Her sister’s whisper gave her an excuse to study him longer.
Liam fit right in. The guys were all about the same height, six-one or six-two. Both Liam and Gray had black, wavy hair, but Liam’s was longer, more artistic. In contrast, Daniel had blond hair, also long. All three men wore blue jeans and sweaters, Gray’s dressier than Daniel’s. Liam had a leaner look; his tight jeans made his legs look like he was a runner.
Liam stood back a little, keeping his glass close to his mouth and observing the two men. What was he thinking?
An arm caught her waist. The scent of Mamma’s familiar perfume had her shoulders softening.
“Lost in thought?” Mamma asked.
She wrapped an arm around Mamma so they were linked. “Maybe a little daydreaming.”
Mamma shot her gaze over to the group of men. “He’s quiet. Almost sad.”
“He is.” She added, “A couple of times I’ve given him smile goals.”
“And you and he are...dating?” A shimmer of anxiousness filled her mother’s voice.
“We haven’t gone out much, but, yes.” She sighed. “I’ve tried to get him into the pubs, but he loves the quiet.”
“And you love your crowds.” Mamma rubbed her back. “He lives in Ireland.”
“I know. Galway.” Dolley turned. “Did you ever want to see where our ancestors came from?”
“Not really. After I married your father, there was never the money. Then when I went to help Aunt CeCe in Atlanta, it would have been hard to find the time.”
“But now Aunt CeCe has full-time help.”
Mamma nodded. “After I told Martin about the interview, he suggested we go to Ireland.”
“He’s so good for you.” Mamma deserved to have fun. “When is Martin coming to Savannah?”
“By Thursday. That’s when Gray’s family are coming in.”
“Ahhh, we’re presenting a united front.” Dolley laughed.
Mamma brushed her hand one more time on Dolley’s back. “Since I haven’t met the Smythes and they were rough on Abby the first time they met her, I want us all to be here.”
“You’re protecting Abby?” Dolley laughed again.
Liam turned.
“Abby will come after them with her longest chef knife,” Dolley said.
“No one disses my children.”
Another laugh rolled out of Dolley.
This time everyone in the room turned.
“What’s going on over there?” Bess demanded.
“Nothing.” Dolley wiped a tear from her eye. “Mamma broke her own rule.”
Mamma shook her head.
Dolley pointed her finger at her mother. “You used slang.”
“Mamma!” Abby put her hands on her hips, glancing at Liam. “We do not use slang around guests.”
Liam slapped a hand to his chest. “Don’t blame me. I don’t even know what that word means.”
“To show disrespect. Often by insults or criticism,” Dolley blurted out.
Horror filled Daniel’s face. “Did you memorize the dictionary?”
Liam tapped his temple. “Photographic memory.”
Now everyone laughed. Well, Liam only grinned, but that was like a rolling belly laugh from him.
She headed over to plant a kiss on his lips.
Before she could move, Abby called out, “Let’s eat.”
Dolley slipped into the seat next to Liam.
He took her hand and it felt right. She leaned in. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“What are you two conspiring about?” Bess asked. “You’re not going to run around shooting pictures, are you? Dolley’s been bad enough since she bought her new camera.”
Liam held up his hands. “My camera’s upstairs.”
Dolley kept her head down and took salad.
“Dolley?” Abby said.
“I’m not holding one right now, am I?” It was on the mantel.
“Let’s keep it that way,” Mamie said. “I’d rather not ruin a lovely dinner.”
Dolley’s cheeks heated to the color of the soup she ladled into her bowl. Her head jerked up. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” His blue laser gaze scanned the table. “Your family should know how talented you are.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Liam—”
“Dolley,” he interrupted. “They should acknowledge your talent and drive.”
She pressed on her roiling stomach. It hadn’t settled down since the interview.
“Thank you for the reminder.” Mamma moved around the table and hugged Liam’s shoulders. Then she kissed Dolley’s cheek. “I’ve grown accustomed to thinking of her camera as an irritation. I’m ashamed of myself. I appreciate you reminding us that Dolley is an artist.”
“Thank you, Mamma.” Dolley closed her eyes. Her chest heaved. Mamma had just called her an artist. But only because Liam had held a mirror up to their behavior.
Mamma squeezed her shoulder before moving back to her chair.
Did she even think of herself as an artist?
“I’m sorry, too.” Bess tipped their heads together. “That would be like you booing whenever I moved dirt.”
“Or when I bake,” Abby added.
Dolley swallowed. “I’m still learning my craft.”
“Don’t belittle yourself.” Liam slapped a hand on the table, and the silverware jumped. “You’ve talent and skill. Especially your pictures of people. One that I don’t have.”
Her family stared at him.
Dolley took a hasty sip of wine. This was what it was like to have someone in her life who had her back. This was what her sisters had found in their fiancés. What Mamma had found with Martin.
She was finally part of the sisterhood. Tears hung on her eyelashes.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Liam. Louder, she said, “Is someone going to pass around Abby’s stroganoff? Talk about an artist.”
Her joke broke the tension. The food circulated again. Conversation picked up.
“Never let anyone diss your talent,” Liam whispered.
She laughed. “You asked me to trust you.”
He nodded.
She squeezed his hand tight. “I do.”
Liam’s smile burst open like sunlight after a thunderstorm. “I won’t let you down.”
Her heart beat a little faster. She was trusting Liam with her family’s legacy and her dreams. Don’t let this be a mistake.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Every artist dips his brush in his own soul and paints his nature into his pictures.
Henry Ward Beecher
“TAKE A SHORT BREAK, GENTS.” Liam changed the lens on the camera. “We’re almost done.”
Gray, Daniel and his other groomsmen from Boston, Phillips and Doug, moved to the balcony and lit cigars. True to their threats, they’d included him in all the wedding activities. And grilled him about his intentions toward Dolley.
Who did that anymore?
He had no clue what his intentions were. But when he was around Dolley and her family, it was like his life was in focus.
Unfortunately, since the day of the interview, he’d barely seen Dolley. When he’d been free, she’d had a rush website job. Then he’d buckled down to flesh out the documentary’s new story line.
Dolley had located descendants of the people listed in James and Fiona’s ledgers and journals. He only knew this because of the notes and texts that flew between them. He’d hoped the various wedding events would bring them together, but that hadn’t happened.
They lived mere feet from each other, and he hadn’t set eyes on her since the groom’s dinner two nights ago. Too long for his needs. Tonight, even though he was taking the wedding pictures, he planned to spend time with Dolley. Please, God.
He took a couple of shots of the four men, cigar smoke curling around their heads. Better than the picture he was going to suggest.
“Are we done?” Daniel asked.
He snapped a few more. “For now.”
He headed to the opposite wing of the house. Knocking, he called out, “It’s Liam.”
Bess pulled the door open. “We’re decent.”
He peered into the room. “I’d say you’re not just decent, you’re beautiful.”
Dolley toasted him with a half-empty champagne glass. “You say the sweetest things.”
Her grin had the strain in his body evaporating like mist in the morning sun. How could her smile give him...peace?
She wore a dusky rose dress, short and tight. Her green eyes glittered like emeralds. Her curls were tamed into an attractive do. Pity. He loved her wild curly locks.
Bess’s dress was a paler rose color. Her long hair was piled on her head. Her eyes were a dimmer shade of green, but still shone like gems.
But Abby was the star of the bouquet of beauties. Her fairy-tale gown sparkled, and so did her green eyes. A couple of freckles spotted her bare shoulders.
Had Dolley taken a picture of Abby’s shoulders? That would be a nice shot.
He smiled at Dolley. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just get some pictures.”
“I’ve shot Abby’s dress and her getting ready.” Dolley brought over her camera. “And the makeup and hair people working on her.”
“You make it sound like I had a giant overhaul,” Abby complained.
“They were perfecting the glorious being that is you.” Bess tipped her flute at her sister.
“I love my sisters!” Abby pinched her lips together.
“Don’t you cry!” Bess came over with the champagne bottle and topped off her glass. “There’s no crying once you’ve had your makeup done.”
Abby sniffed back her tears. “I know.”
“I’ll take more champagne.” Gray’s sister, Courtney, was tucked in a chair over in the corner, a bored expression on her face.
She was just as pretty as the Fitzgeralds, maybe prettier. She had Gray’s bright blue eyes and black curly hair that fell to the middle of her back. But she would never be stunning like Dolley or her sisters, because she didn’t have...spark.
Bess topped off Courtney’s glass. “Sure.”
He snapped a picture of Courtney’s pouting face.
“I wasn’t ready.” She straightened and pasted on an insincere smile.
He snapped a few more but knew the first picture was the reflection of her true personality. Too bad. Her brother was...real. And nice.
He moved around the room, and Dolley’s gaze followed him. It was like the stroke of her hand on his back, comforting and exciting. He stood over the pile of sparkling heels, tipping one on its side.
Dolley and Bess relaxed on a small love seat, their bare feet resting on a coffee table. Since they were watching Abby, he took a couple of candids. Then he zoomed in on Dolley’s face. She had so much life and energy.
He would have to remember that it was the bride’s day today. Not Dolley’s.
Mamie, along with Gray’s mother, Olivia, Debbie Forester and Marion all entered the bridal boudoir.
“I’d like to get pictures with the mothers.” Liam nodded to Dolley. They were going to tag team as much as possible today. She caught up her camera and stood a little apart from him.
Abby walked to the women. When Abby wrapped her arm around Marion and Deb, Olivia looked a little stunned.
Liam understood that these women were as much a part of the Fitzgerald family as Abby’s sisters. He’d even caught Marion scolding Abby.
He and Dolley took group photos in the room and then moved everyone to the balcony.
“I don’t understand why Dolley’s taking our pictures,” Courtney complained. “S
he’s not a professional.”
“Actually, I am.” Dolley’s voice was even.
“She’s my apprentice.” Liam shifted the women around. “And very, very good.”
“Really?” Courtney drawled. Under her breath, she added, “That’s what they call it these days?”
Dolley was facing him, so he caught her eye roll.
“Ignore her,” he whispered. “You take charge.”
Maybe Courtney would eat her words.
“Mamma and Abby, first,” Dolley said, changing her camera’s settings.
Dolley had a flair for portraits. After she shot their poses, she added Olivia and then Marion and Deb.
Liam stepped in. “Now, all the sisters.”
Courtney took her time joining the group. He would have everyone in this picture and eliminate until he had only the Fitzgeralds, because joy should be what was reflected on everyone’s faces, not disdain.
Dolley handed her camera to him.
He whispered, “It’s too bad everyone can’t be happy today.”
Her glance shot to Courtney. She whispered back, “When Abby and Gray first started dating, she caused problems. He’d been dating her BFF.”
He frowned.
“Her best friend forever. BFF.”
“Ahh.”
After taking all the group photos, he packed his cameras. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
Abby’s grin sparkled. “Okay.”
In the ballroom, he framed pictures of the guests, tables and the arbor. Finally the mothers were escorted to their chairs. The string quartet changed songs as Gray and the judge entered and stood by the arbor.
On the bride’s side of the aisle, women wore hats. On the groom’s side, the younger women wore something Dolley had called a fascinator. High fashion and stiff backs were evident there. Would the two groups mix during cocktail hour?
Courtney came down the aisle first. He snapped the obligatory pictures of the couple. Dolley came next. He focused on her radiant face, finally remembering that wedding pictures should include the dresses. He did the same for Bess.
He twirled to catch Gray’s expression as Abby appeared. The groom’s mouth dropped open, and a smile split his face.
