Summer Fire
Page 63
He dragged a hand over his face. In the back of his mind, the tiny voice grew louder that whispered in his dreams, the one that told him he’d made a mistake by not keeping his promise to her.
He’d planned to return to Ballyglass after college to work with his granddad and to catch up with Fiona. Yet when his father told him that messing about on boats during the summer vacation was fine, but it was not a long-term career choice, he’d bowed to paternal pressure and let himself be talked into joining the Garda.
Not only had he let down his granddad, he’d given up any hope of returning to claim Fiona. Maybe that had been the biggest mistake of all.
*
Fiona folded the fruit scone dough on a floured board, then patted it into a flat round shape. As she plunged the cutter into the dough to make the scones, footsteps sounded behind her. Streaks of electricity raced up and down her spine. She was so sensitive to Aaron, she didn’t even need to turn around to know it was him.
With a resigned sigh, she glanced over her shoulder. He rested his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and grinned at her. “Something smells good.”
“These aren’t for you. They’re for my cream teas.”
He gave an exaggerated pout like a small boy and Fiona laughed; she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to feel this way about Aaron, but her skin tingled with awareness of him just like it used to. He looked so gorgeous in a clean blue T-shirt, cargo shorts, and deck shoes.
“You planning on sailing somewhere?”
He laughed wryly. “Unlikely. All my granddad’s boats were sold off. No, I just needed to shower and put on some clean clothes. The last few days have been difficult, and I haven’t had a chance to wash and change for a while.”
“It sounds like you’re in trouble. I thought you were in the Garda.”
Aaron’s smile dropped away. Taut lines of tension framed his mouth and radiated from his eyes, making him suddenly look older and a little fierce. “I am.” His curt tone signaled an end to the discussion.
Not sure whether to be worried about him or offended by his tone of voice, Fiona returned to her work. She pressed the dough back into a round shape, cut out some more scones, and laid them on the baking sheet. The timer on her oven dinged, so she put on the oven gloves to take out the cheese scones she’d made earlier.
Aaron wandered up beside her and grabbed a hot cheese scone, juggling it as she swiped at his butt with the oven gloves. When he was a safe distance away, he took a bite. “Mmm.” He closed his eyes as he chewed. “Good.”
“Hands off, O’Malley. I need these for the tourists this afternoon. I offer a wishing trail package, a wishing jar and a pot of tea with freshly baked fruit scones with jam and thick cream, or cheese scones and butter. And ice cream for the kids.”
“I think you might have persuaded me to stay for tea.” Aaron grinned as he sidestepped her attempt to block him, snatched a second cheese scone, and dashed behind the table where she couldn’t smack him.
Fiona rolled her eyes, but she was relieved that he was back to the Aaron she knew. The ten years he’d been away faded and it felt like just yesterday they’d been together, working at his granddad’s place, cleaning the boats, messing about in the water, fishing, and eating ice cream. Those summers when Aaron came to stay in his granddad’s cabin were the best days of her life.
Fiona sobered at the thought of his granddad. They’d all loved old O’Malley. He was the kindest man she’d ever known. It had broken the old man’s heart when Aaron didn’t come back to see him before he died. In fact, Aaron seemed to be an expert at breaking hearts.
She put two baking sheets of fruit scones in the oven and grabbed the paper bag of baguettes that had been delivered that morning. “I’m making Jamie a sandwich for lunch. I suppose you don’t want one now you’ve stuffed yourself with cheese scones.”
Aaron wandered closer as he rubbed crumbs off his hands, his grin back in place. “I think I could manage a sandwich. You know me; never say no to food. What fillings have you got?”
“Jamie has egg salad.” She raised her eyebrows, daring him to ask for something different.
“That’ll do me. Thanks.”
As Aaron swept his fingers back through his hair, combing the disheveled strands, Fiona paused to watch, her heart giving a little kick as if to remind her to keep breathing. Why did he have to be so…so…annoyingly attractive?
Tearing her gaze away, she put together the two sandwiches, then stepped out the back door to ring the bell on the wall. A few minutes later, Jamie jogged up. The two men sat together at one of the round garden tables the tourists used and tucked into their lunch.
The two teen girls from Ballyglass village who regularly helped out arrived and claimed chilled sodas from the fridge before Fiona sent them to do their favorite job, make wishing jars.
Both girls giggled when Aaron smiled at them. Fiona shook her head in reprimand, but she couldn’t blame them. He’d had the same effect on her when she was fifteen—and he still had that effect on her now.
Grabbing an apple, cheese scone, and soda for herself, Fiona joined the men at the table.
“When do you want to start clearing out old O’Malley’s cabin?” Jamie asked Aaron, obviously continuing a conversation they’d started earlier.
“Whenever you can spare the time.”
“This afternoon is good. I have things to do, but nothing that can’t wait.”
Fiona’s heart plummeted. Although she told herself she didn’t want to be around Aaron any more than necessary, her head and her heart didn’t agree. Her heart longed to help clear out the cabin. The three of them could work together like they used to, but she was busy with the wishing trail tourists this afternoon.
“Actually, before we start I need to arrange for a large metal skip to put the rubbish in.” Aaron pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your Wi-Fi password?”
Fiona told him. He keyed it in and searched the Internet. Then he called a skip rental firm and booked for one to be delivered the following morning. “Not much point in starting the clear-out until the skip arrives. I suggest we leave it until tomorrow.”
“Suits me,” Jamie said. “I want to take a branch down off the old oak tree in the far corner of the meadow, and that’s a two-man job. How about giving me a hand this afternoon?”
“Sounds good.” Aaron shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth.
“I’ll lend you some boots,” Jamie said.
The two men wandered off while discussing the merits of different brands of chain saws, absorbed in their world of guy stuff just like they used to be all those years ago.
Fiona closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun, her mind drifting to the first wishing jar she’d ever made, the one that had given birth to the wishing trail idea. As a heartbroken teenager, she’d done everything she could think of to persuade fate to send Aaron back to her. She’d prayed, wished on stars, kissed the Blarney Stone, and thrown coins in a magical fountain. When she’d read about wishing jars, it had been one more project to take her mind off her heartache and make her feel as though she was doing something positive.
She’d searched her bedroom for treasures that reminded her of him, and filled a bottle with her hopes and dreams. That first wishing jar was still tucked down by the fountain at the end of the wishing trail. Had it finally worked its magic after all these years, or was it merely wishful thinking?
Chapter Three
Aaron lounged beside Jamie on top of the hill overlooking Ballyglass Castle, the smell of freshly mown grass and sun-warmed wildflowers tickling his nose as he inhaled a satisfied breath.
This place was as close to heaven as he was ever likely to find. Being here cleansed his soul of the terrible things he’s seen and the vile people he’d had to deal with in the Dublin underworld.
He’d forgotten how idyllic it was here. Maybe his mind had blocked out this blissful sense of peace and well-being. To face violence and fear every day,
knowing he’d turned his back on this wonderful life, might have broken him.
He sucked in a breath and released it slowly, willing all his stress and worry to leak out with the air. For a few weeks he would relax and forget Dublin. He’d forget he had to go back to the clogged streets full of noisy cars and pushing people to give evidence. For a few weeks, he would pretend he belonged here.
A breeze set the seed heads on the grass twirling like ballerinas, and a lazy bee bumbled by, stopping to visit with the buttercups and clover. In front of him, the hill fell in a gentle slope to the corner of the meadow at the back of the castle where the old oak tree stood on sentry duty.
He and Jamie had safely lopped off the dangerous branch and sawed it into logs for the castle fireplaces, then heaped them on the trailer attached to the back of Jamie’s tractor. Along the eastern boundary of the castle property ran the River Glass, or Little Glass as the locals called it, bubbling over rocks and beneath willow trees.
The wildflower meadow covered four acres and stretched to the ten-foot-high wall that enclosed the flower garden at the back of the castle. Against the blue sky the familiar castle towers stood out, and farther away the shining surface of Lough Glass gleamed, smooth and still, living up to its name.
Shading his eyes, Aaron focused on the people moving about in the castle gardens. Children dashed around, their screams and laughter carrying on the still air, and adults sat at the tables beneath the candy-striped umbrellas dotted over the grass.
Among the flowers and shrubs in the walled garden, he could see the sun glinting off jars in people’s hands. That must be Fiona’s wishing trail. Even from this distance he could identify her distinctive, jaunty walk. She moved between the tables, stopping to talk, gesturing with her arms.
Fiona was one of a kind. He had consigned her to his past, but he’d only been back here for a few hours and already he yearned to be close to her, to kiss her—and she wasn’t too young for him anymore. The four-year age gap that had seemed huge when she was sixteen was nothing now.
Aaron chugged some water from his bottle and wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Man, it’s hot.”
“I know. Great for business, though.” Jamie had taken off his boots and wriggled his bare toes in the grass.
Aaron moved his gaze to the tiny triangles of white sails on the lough, but it didn’t take long for his gaze to be drawn back to find Fiona among the crowd.
“So, what’s the deal with these wishing jars of Fiona’s? Why are they so popular?”
“I know. Weird, isn’t it? I can’t understand the attraction. But they sell like hotcakes and attract people to the castle. We make a steady bit of money from renting the rooms, but not enough to live on and cover the castle upkeep.
“Ewan’s folk concerts twice a year help top up the bank account, but the wishing jars make more money than the concerts. Fi sold jars at the last concert, and people went crazy for them. She’s trying to get a loan to extend the wishing jar workshop, but she’s not having much luck.”
“What goes inside the wishing jars?”
“You saw what she has in that workshop of hers, lace and flowers and girly stuff. I hate going in there. It makes me think of weddings.” Jamie took a slug of water and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as if even saying the word wedding left a bad taste in his mouth.
“What have you got against weddings?”
Jamie hiked his eyebrows as if Aaron had asked a stupid question. “Who wants to be tied to a woman?”
“Surely it depends on the woman and where she’s trying to tie you.” Aaron flashed a suggestive grin, and Jamie chuckled.
They fell silent, and Aaron’s gaze drifted back to locate Fiona. In his years working in Dublin, he’d met plenty of women, but there had never been anyone serious. Fiona had been the woman of his dreams, but back when he was twenty he’d been too stupid to realize it.
Now it was too late for them. His life was in Dublin and hers was here. Some things weren’t destined to work out.
*
Fiona sank into the squishy cushions of her favorite lawn chair and sipped her red wine. She was exhausted, but it was a good tired. The afternoon wishing trail and tea session had been very successful. Now the litter had been picked up, the tables wiped, and the dishwasher was cleaning its second load. Finally she could relax.
At just after nine, the sun was edging its way closer to the horizon, sunset less than an hour away. Already bats streaked overhead, making high-pitched squeaks. Jamie and Aaron appeared from the side of the castle, their boots thumping on the stone path before they cut across the smoothly trimmed lawn towards her.
“What’s for dinner?” Jamie asked, dropping into a chair.
Fiona held up her glass. “Wine. I had planned to roast a chicken, but it was so hectic earlier, I forgot to put it in the oven.”
Completely unfazed by her announcement, Jamie stood again. “I’ll drive over to Foxbridge and get Chinese takeout. It’ll only take me thirty minutes.” He slapped Aaron on the shoulder. “Coming, mate?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll have my usual,” Fiona called as the two men went inside to change out of their boots.
She sipped her wine and laid her head back, listening to the peaceful garden, enjoying the quiet. A phone rang, drawing her gaze to Aaron as he and Jamie came out of the kitchen door. He put his mobile to his ear, then wandered towards the wishing jar workshop and turned his back.
“I’ll go on my own, Fi,” Jamie said. “No point in hanging around for him. I’ll probably be back before he gets off the phone.”
Fifteen minutes later, Aaron wandered back. “Sorry, had to take that call. Did Jamie leave?”
She nodded, noticing the tense lines around his mouth and eyes were back. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Any chance of a cold beer?”
“In the fridge.”
Aaron went inside and came out again a minute later with a bottle in his hand. He sat in a lawn chair close by and sipped his beer. Insects buzzed, and the water burbled in a small fountain among the flowers.
“What gave you the idea for the wishing jars?” Aaron asked after a few minutes of silence.
“I saw one somewhere and thought they were pretty.” She wasn’t about to tell him that he’d inspired her first jar, and many others since.
“I thought I might walk your wishing trail later.”
“Be my guest. It’s pretty at night, all lit up with tiny fairy lights in jars.”
“Wanna give me a guided tour?” Aaron lounged back in his chair and took a swallow of beer.
Fiona met his sultry, dark gaze, and her heart gave the familiar kick. He was an almost irresistible temptation, like a mega box of Belgian chocolates that looked oh so delicious, but if she succumbed it would only end in regret.
“You don’t need me to guide you. It’s easy to follow.” She averted her eyes and sipped her wine.
A car door slammed close by. A moment later, Ewan strolled into view, his battered guitar case in his hand.
“Hello, stranger. Lovely to see you,” she said to her brother, relieved not to be alone with Aaron anymore.
Ewan nodded at Aaron and kissed her cheek. “Any dinner?”
“Chinese takeout. Jamie should be back with it soon.”
“Will there be enough for me?”
“You know Jamie. He always gets enough to feed the whole village.”
Ewan grabbed a cold beer from inside, then took his guitar out of its case and sat across the table from her. He strummed a gentle melody and Fiona closed her eyes, remembering many other summer evenings when she’d hung out with her brothers and Aaron.
Contentment drifted through her. She adored this place and the people in her life. It had been tough after her father died suddenly in his fifties. She and her brothers had fought to keep Ballyglass Castle, but now they were finally doing well. Life was good, and it would be perfect if she could get her darn loan.
She lifted her eyelashes to find Aaron watching her, his expression unreadable. She stared back, trapped in his intense gaze. She didn’t notice Ewan had stopped playing until he spoke.
“Have you finished your undercover op then, mate?”
Aaron snatched his gaze away from her and pinned Ewan with a warning glare. “You weren’t going to tell anyone.”
Ewan shrugged. “It’s only Fi.”
Aaron’s gaze flicked to her and then back to Ewan. “That doesn’t matter. When I said tell nobody, I meant nobody.”
“Okay, chill.” Ewan raised his palms in a placating gesture. “I won’t mention it again.”
So she was nobody? Aaron’s words stung as if he’d slapped her. “You don’t trust me to keep your secrets?”
“It has nothing to do with trust.”
“No,” she muttered as Jamie arrived with a bulging bag.
“Here we are, lads and lasses.”
He set the bag on the table and handed around the cartons of food. They all dug in with disposable chopsticks, but Fiona’s appetite was gone. She took a few mouthfuls and dropped her carton back on the table.
“Jamie, do you know what Aaron’s been doing recently?” she asked.
Jamie was eating and missed the warning glare Aaron cast in his direction. “Yeah. He’s been working undercover on some investigation for the Garda.”
“So I’m the only one who didn’t know.”
A long time ago she’d accepted that Aaron didn’t love her, but she had thought they were friends. It seemed she’d even been wrong about that. Why would he confide in both her brothers and not her? He’d even cut her off this morning when she asked him questions.
The realization hurt even more because Ewan had never been especially close to Aaron. While she, Jamie, and Aaron had been working at O’Malley’s boat rental place and hanging out together, Ewan was usually practicing his guitar.
“Fiona, they only know because they needed to. You didn’t.” Aaron’s tone was defensive.
Fiona drained the rest of her wine and refilled her glass. Why was she bothered? She knew Aaron didn’t care about her or he’d have come back years ago. But the pain squeezing her heart hurt more than she would have believed possible after all this time.