Seeds of Tyrone Box Set

by Debbie McGowan

  “Yeah. You gonna ground me?”

  Seamus met Chancey’s gaze and was temporarily lost, sucked into it. He saw everything he’d ever wanted, even the things he hadn’t realised he wanted. You end me, Chancey Bo Clearwater. And you are my beginning… The parental baton mentally changed hands.

  Seamus looked back at Dee and said, as sternly as he could manage, “Not this time, young lady. But next time…”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven:

  Parting Shot

  Dee seemed much more relaxed and happy after announcing she’d ‘be cool’ with moving to Ireland. She was smiling more, and relishing the attention she received from her friends who had started the obligatory How will we go on without you, Dee? on her Facebook months in advance. Chancey thought it didn’t hurt that she spent most of her time planning her going-away party.

  “Can we get a cookie cake and an ice cream cake?” she asked, typing away at her laptop.

  Chancey bit his lip to keep his grin under wraps. “I dunno, that’s a lot of money on cake.”

  She raised her head, giving him the full blast of her puppy-dog eyes.

  “Shouldn’t we invest in some pie and cookies, too?” he offered.

  Dee absolutely beamed.

  Kaylee Starr, of course, had taken it upon herself to throw a fit about the move. At first she threatened to try and take custody of Dee, which—though he’d only admitted it to Seamus in a late-night secret confession—sent an ice-water terror through Chancey’s veins. Kansas was a damn conservative state, and even with Kaylee not being able to provide Dee with a stable home, he could see the courts siding with the mother, should it come down to a fight.

  “We will fight her with everything we’ve got,” Seamus promised the evening Chancey told him what had happened. “Don’t worry, Chance. She won’t take our girl.”

  Whether it was Kaylee herself who decided to change course, or Dee who pushed her hand—one day, the threat of taking custody was just gone. Chancey had heard his daughter on the phone with her mother the night before, and goddamn if he hadn’t been as proud of her as the day she choked down that Guinness. With calm grace, Dee had said into the phone, “Momma, I love you. I love you…lots. But if you take this thing to court, I’m gonna tell them I wanna go with Daddy and Shay. So please…” Tears were streaming out of her eyes, but she managed to keep her voice strong and level. “Please just stop this.”

  When she hung up the phone, she collapsed onto the couch and sobbed for a full thirty minutes and could only be coaxed up with a bowl of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream and a promise to put in a call to Paddy and Aidan. Dee had thrown her arms around her father’s neck and held him tight.

  If Chancey thought Kaylee would give up her brattiness that easily, he’d underestimated his ex-wife. A few days after Dee sent out her beautifully handmade party invitations (complete with instructions to RSVP), she received a reply in the mail from her mother. It came in the form of Kaylee’s own opulent wedding invites. Stuffed inside was Dee’s going-away party invite with a message:

  Sorry I can’t come, darling—we’re getting married that day.

  When Dee showed Chancey what Kaylee had done, he took the papers, quietly kissed her forehead, and walked into the other room. Kneeling in front of his metal waste basket, he tore the invites into a hundred little pieces, letting them fall like snow into the can. Then, when all that was left was Kaylee’s name in elegant scrawl across the top of her invite, he took the lighter from his pocket and set the piece of paper ablaze. He dropped it into the can and watched the whole thing go up in flames.

  Dee found him sitting in front of that waste basket, watching the embers burn out, and he was embarrassed to be caught out so angry. But in that moment, he wanted to kill Kaylee—or horse whip himself for ever getting involved with her.

  “It’s OK, Daddy,” Dee assured him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  No…he wouldn’t let himself regret the time he’d spent with Kaylee. Without that bitch, he wouldn’t have Dee, and she was worth it all.

  He put his large hand over Dee’s.

  “You want to move your party so you can go to your momma’s wedding?” he asked as steadily as he could manage.

  “She’d just move her wedding again so it was on the same day as my party.”

  The kid shouldn’t have to be so damn wise at such a young age.

  “Hey, Daddy?” Dee asked, standing. “You remember when I asked you for all that stuff? About moving to Ireland?”

  “Your list of demands?” Chancey asked, standing as well. He scooted the trash can with his foot. It was still too hot to touch.

  “Yeah,” she laughed lightly. “I…um…have another one. Not really a demand, ’cause I mean, we’re going, right? No matter what. But…if we move to Ireland, can you try to…?”

  “What is it, Dee?” he asked, still carrying the guilt of her crazy mother.

  “You think you can try to stop smoking?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. She’d never said anything about his smoking before. He looked down at the lighter he still held in his hand.

  “It’s just…Shay and I have been talking, and—”

  “Oh, you have?” Chancey teased.

  “Yes!” she said defiantly. “And we think maybe you should get a new habit.”

  “Wow, not even in Omagh and you two are already ganging up on me.”

  <<< >>>

  Dee’s going-away party (and it truly was hers, despite the fact that Chancey had friends of his own there) was an enormous affair. Chancey jokingly asked if she’d invited every damn girl in her class to attend, and she shrugged at him, carrying a tray of tiny cheeses around and offering them to people as if they were at a gala. Someone had brought her a tiara, and she wore it proudly, queen for the afternoon.

  Chancey chatted with the men from Tina’s, and a couple of workers from Rabbit Hill, all of whom stayed outside in the front yard, drinking and generally keeping away from the rabble-rousing teen girls.

  “Don’t know how you do it,” Lulu said. She’d taken the day off from Rack ’Em—something she didn’t do for just anyone. She sat on the banister on his front porch, eyeing the cattle hands with a smirk.

  “What? These guys?”

  “Nah, that screaming gaggle of girls in the house. Packs like that have taken down braver men than you.”

  “I think fourteen years of Deidra Clearwater has honed my ability to handle packs of young girls. Mostly, the trick’s the same as when they set off the tornado sirens. You just take shelter. Duck and cover until the storm’s passed.”

  Some awful music was blaring from the house, and he’d brought his old CD player out onto the porch to keep the pop music from driving off his company.

  “Can’t believe we lost Seamus and now we’re losing you,” one of the men said, raising his beer to Chancey. “That Ireland’s got it’s draw, huh?”

  “Something like,” Chancey agreed.

  “You gonna tell ’em?” Lulu asked quietly.

  Chancey glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like I didn’t see it every damn night the two of you were together. And now you’re leaving all the splendour of Kansas—” She paused to laugh. “For the green hills of Ireland?”

  “Ain’t their business.” Chancey said.

  “Guess it isn’t,” Lulu agreed.

  “But don’t you mistake that for being afraid of them knowing, Lu’.”

  “I’m not.”

  She ran her hands through her hair and raked her bangs back from her face.

  “I could announce it if I wanted to.”

  “I’m sure you could.”

  His whole life, Chancey had been private with his sexuality. He liked women. He liked men. But his bedroom affairs weren’t really anyone’s business, unless that person was sharing the bedroom in question or happened to be close to his heart. Now, though, he felt emboldened by his beer buzz, Lulu’s challenging gaze, and
the fact that in less than two weeks, he wouldn’t see any of these guys again in the foreseeable future.

  Why the hell shouldn’t they know about Seamus?

  “Listen up, men.” He’d said those words a hundred times before, when they were getting ready to herd cattle, heading out to do immunisations, or facing bad weather conditions. His friends, the ranch hands he’d worked with and trusted for years, lifted their heads. “It’s been good times working with you all. Facing Tina together—” The men from Tina’s ranch, and Tina herself, laughed. “—Or dealing with city tourists who don’t know a saddle from their ass.” The few from Rabbit Hill cried out in agreement. “Gonna miss you jerks. Finer men, I do not know.”

  The group raised their drinks and agreed, albeit a little drunkenly.

  “That all?” Lulu murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

  “And Seamus Williams and I are getting married sometime next year. Wish y’all could come, but ya ain’t invited.”

  Laughter erupted, and there was a hoot from nearby.

  Tina said, “I knew it!”

  More congratulations followed and Chancey tossed Lulu a look.

  “Told you I could do it.”

  “Oh yeah,” she smirked. “You really showed me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight:

  And the Sky is Not Cloudy All Day

  Chancey expected tears—loads of them, actually. But Dee surprised him. There’d been misty eyes at best.

  Even when they went down to the Stills’s property and Dee took Jojo out for one last ride, it was smiles and nuzzles that followed, not tears. They had sold Jojo to Stills, who planned to take up barrels over the summer.

  “You’re in the best hands,” Dee had whispered to her horse, kissing the mare’s silky neck. “But don’t let Stills beat my time.”

  Jojo had chuffed and knocked Dee playfully with her head.

  Chancey and Dee had made one last pass through their empty house. All the furniture had been sold or donated, the keepsakes carefully crated and shipped overseas to their new farm. The Clearwaters would arrive long before their things did, and that meant living out of their suitcases—two apiece plus carry-ons—but neither father nor daughter seemed very concerned.

  “It’s a good chance to start over,” Dee mused.

  She was sitting on the bottom stair as Chancey walked around the living room.

  “I ever tell you about the time you jumped off the couch and bonked your head on the fireplace?”

  Dee raised a hand to the small scar on the right side of her forehead. “Only about a bajillion times.”

  “You were bleedin’ everywhere. Scared the hell out of me. Of course, your mom was already out of the house by then, and I’m running around frantic.”

  “And you were trying to decide whether to call an ambulance or take me to the hospital yourself,” Dee continued. “So you called Grandma, and she talked you through it. And we got to the E.R., and it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.”

  “And the next day you had a giant goose egg.”

  “Yep.” Dee smiled. “I promise I won’t jump off the couch at Seamus’s house.”

  “Our house, Dee.”

  She stood slowly and stretched. “Boss Tina here yet?”

  “Yeah, she’s been idling in the driveway for a while. Letting us say goodbye to the house.”

  “Goodbye, house,” Dee said, and when Chancey held out his arms, she walked into them, and they hugged tightly. After a moment she pulled back. “All right, time to blow this Popsicle stand. Hey… Do you think they have Popsicles in Ireland?”

  <<< >>>

  Last-minute check: keys, extra-strong mints, iPod and cable, phone…Seamus was all set for the drive to Dublin airport, and yet… He dashed upstairs to the bathroom, one last time. His own fault, for drinking way too much tea, but then he’d been up since three thirty, when it was already turning light: a beautiful morning, as it should be. Seamus zipped up, flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and caught a glimpse of the smiling man in the mirror. Grinning like an eejit. The happiest eejit the world did ever see.

  On his way along the landing, he stopped again at the door, opened it and peered inside. The morning sun poured in, filling the room with pale sunlight turned peppermint by the many shades of green within—the sage bed linen and matching thick rug, the bright apple-white décor, and the verdant meadows of the prints dotted around the walls. He’d lit an incense cone and the scent of jasmine and sandalwood momentarily bewitched him.

  “Has it changed, then?” Michael asked, coming up behind him. Seamus grinned to hide his worry. It didn’t work. “She’s going to love it, Shay.”

  “Aye, but you and me are fellas, and she’s a teenage girl.”

  “But it’s got pictures of horses. If she doesn’t want ’em, I’ll move ’em into my room.”

  “I’ll fight ye for them,” Seamus said, scanning the series of prints entitled Equinenergy, beautiful, lifelike sketches of horses in motion that he and Michael had fallen in love with the second they saw them on the artist’s website. “Well, I’m sure she won’t be shy in telling me what she thinks.”

  “If she ever gets here.” Mike tapped his wrist, prompting Seamus to check the time on his phone.

  “Oh, shite. All right, I’m off. See you in a few hours.”

  “Drive safely,” Michael called after Seamus, who was already on his way out.

  “I will,” he called back. He closed the door and jogged over to his new pickup. Carla. Must be catching.

  <<< >>>

  It wasn’t that Chancey was any less frightened of the plane ride to Ireland than he had been on the plane ride to Pennsylvania, but this time he knew what waited for him once he stepped off. Forever.

  Dee fell asleep against his arm about three hours into the flight, and he had to be careful not to jostle her awake, but it was all right. It gave him a lot of time to think…to imagine…to daydream. Chancey wasn’t exactly riding off into the sunset, but he was flying into a new adventure. And in this direction lay open land that he could truly call his, and real ranch work, no boss but himself and his partner. Dee would grow up with farm chores, would learn to shear sheep, and of course, continue her beloved rodeo.

  Seamus had told Chancey the night before that he’d already signed Dee up for a membership in the British Rodeo Association’s Juniors section, paying her dues for the year and marking the events, meet-ups, and competitions on the family calendar. Lord, that was nice to hear. The family calendar. And like the old saying went, Seamus had also been to see a man about a horse—a true American quarter horse named Bright Eyes he thought might be perfect for Dee.

  “But I’ll wait to get her expert opinion.”

  “You’re good to her, Shay,” Chancey had said into the phone. “I love that you love her.”

  “And I love you,” Seamus had said in response. The words sent a shiver down Chancey’s spine.

  “Let’s get on video chat.”

  “No,” Seamus said. “One more day…I have to wait one more day, because if I see your face tonight, I’m not going to be able to make it through tomorrow.”

  Dee groaned a little, stirring Chancey out of his memories. No more days now, Seamus. I’ll be there soon.

  <<< >>>

  The sense of déjà vu was tremendous, although this time was different. This time it wasn’t just a few stolen days together, wondering what Dee would think of him, trying to work out how he and Chance might grab a moment of intimacy here and there. In fact, intimacy was…well, it was on his mind, but it was one of a hundred things racing around in there—showing them around the farm, taking them up to Sixmilecross, to see the castles…and introducing them to Marie. He supposed he’d have to tell people now. This is Chancey and his daughter, Dee. Chance and I are engaged to be married. That would go down a storm in Omagh.

  The flight had arrived, but there was no sign yet of passengers coming through security. It was one of the massive airbuses, so it probably took an age
to get everyone off the thing. Lucky he was a patient man, really.

  Or fairly patient, usually. Not today.

  “Excuse me,” he called, approaching the woman standing at the desk. “How long before they come through?”

  “Ten minutes, sir. They’ve already sent first class through.”

  “All right, thanks.” Seamus wandered off again. His belly was rumbling, now he’d peed out all the tea, and he’d forgotten about breakfast. Across the way, there was a coffee bar with a fridge full of sandwiches and other snacks; he went over, picked out a ham and mustard roll, paid for it and a bottle of water, and returned to watching and wait—

  No way was that ten minutes.

  A large group advanced as one, hoisting shoulder bags and pulling along cases on wheels, like little square dogs. Some of the group marched with eyes fixed dead ahead; others scanned the expanse for familiar faces, smiles, waves and nods marking the moments they found who they were looking for. And there, in the midst of that group, Seamus spotted something that made his heart leap into his throat. He laughed breathlessly.

  “Christ. I bet he’s been wearing that feckin’ hat all through the flight.”

  So far, he couldn’t see the man beneath the hat, nor the gorgeous girl who would be clinging to his arm, delighted and overwhelmed, just as she had been in Pennsylvania. The people kept on coming, and Seamus stayed glued to the hat, the slow side-to-side bobbing in time with the famous swagger.

  “Wish that bloody woman would get out of the way,” Seamus muttered to himself, and by some small miracle she veered off, leaving nothing but air between him and Chancey.

  Chancey, smiling like he’d just won the lottery, been crowned king of the world and discovered the best pizza restaurant in town. All at once, Seamus realised that the smile was for him, and it was a bit of a fight—though not much—to shift his gaze to Dee. She’d grown some—grown up—no longer a girl, but a stunning young woman, a hint of her mother’s good looks and all of her father’s charm. She blinked big wide eyes at Seamus and then turned to Chance and said something, to which he just smiled more broadly and nodded. Dee looked horrified.