They all frowned. “Yes, sir.”
Standing just inside the door, Tiegan looked around with a cop’s eye. Running shoes were kicked off by the front closet. The furniture was minimal: plaid green and brown couch, tan over-stuffed chair, coffee table made of black lacquer. A TV sat on a small wooden table and a console held mail and a picture of a boy about 10, a girl about 6, and a woman probably in her late twenties. He wondered if the little family was related to her or just friends? So far, they’d found no family except for a missing grandmother and the deceased mom.
Regan came out from down the hall. “The place is clean. The lass has some very impressive weapons in a duffle under her bed, and the second bedroom looks like it belongs to a young boy, but maybe it’s a nephew or family friend. There’re no clothes in the dresser or closet.”
Tiegan and Fisher came further into the room. Tiegan nodded toward the picture on the console. “There’s a boy in this picture. Kid looks like Laif. Anyway, he might stay here sometimes. I’ll try to find out who they are.”
“Or,” Bryson, who hadn’t said much after his first protest, said, “we wait till she wakes up and ask her. It kind of creeps me out thinking that someone would invade my privacy like this. We know who she is and that for now, she’s safe. Nothing here leads us to any more family that would need to know she’s hurt. Besides, I’m sure if there were, that Shane guy would let them know and they would show up to the hospital.”
“You’re right, Son. There’s nothing else here to offer any more information.” Regan patted his arm and then pushed everyone toward the door.
Bryson stood just outside the hospital room belonging to Memphis and listened to Laif say a prayer, asking for Memphis to heal completely and to accept him into her life. Part of him wanted to walk away, not intrude on this very private moment, but he’d felt the need to talk to his little brother. He wasn’t sure what he’d say but figured it would come to him when he opened his mouth. At least he hoped it would.
When Laif said, “amen,” Bryson knocked lightly on the door and came into the darkened room. Memphis looked better. There weren’t as many machines hooked up to her and her heartbeat sounded steady. He snatched a chair out of the corner of the room, turned it, and straddled it. Letting out a breath, he offered a silent prayer. I could use a little help here. Not sure exactly what to say.
“Spit it out,” Laif said, in an almost growl.
Bryson chuckled. His cool-headed little brother was acting so out of character, and it was killing him. Laif was used to just letting things roll off his back, not taking things too seriously if he could help it. Since Memphis, Laif took everything too seriously. “I didn’t come with a speech prepared if that’s what you’re waiting for. Just thought you’d like to talk.”
“She’s… I don’t know….” Laif shoved both hands through his already mussed hair and sighed. “Remember when we were kids, maybe six and eight, and Mom and Dad were talking about Uncle Ewen in the kitchen when we were supposed to have gone to bed? He’d met some woman and wanted to leave Aunt Kathy.”
At Bryson’s nod, Laif continued, “I remember Dad saying that Aunt Kathy hadn’t been his soulmate, that he never should have married her. And Mom said that he had married her and that he’d better get that other woman out of his mind because he had a family.”
“I remember,” Bryson said. “It was the only time I’d ever heard Mom cuss and I wondered why Dad didn’t wash her mouth out with soap.”
That made Laif smile. “Yeah. That was a shock.”
Bryson just grinned, wondering where his brother was going with this. He didn’t ask though, Laif always made his point, even if it took him a while.
“I remember wondering how Uncle Ewen could even think of leaving his family. He said that even though he loved Aunt Kathy, and he didn’t cheat on her, he was so drawn to that other woman, that he didn’t know how he’d stay away. That part of him just wanted to damn the consequences.”
Bryson recalled sitting on the back stairs that led to the kitchen, Laif by his side, and listening to a conversation too mature for the little boys they were. “I remember how devastated he was when she was killed in that car accident. I also remember Aunt Kathy taking the girls and leaving for months. Mom said that she couldn’t watch him mourn another woman any longer. That it was killing her, and if she’d stayed, they would have ended up divorced.”
“Yeah, but when Uncle Ewen came for them all those months later,” Laif picked up the telling of the story, “he’d been the same loving husband he’d been before. I’d always felt so sorry for Aunt Kathy, and kinda mad at Uncle Ewen. Now…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Now I just feel sorry for him.”
Looking down at Memphis, Laif whispered, “I don’t think I could handle it if anything happens to her. If I hadn’t waited for her, had married someone else because I didn’t want to believe in the Guardianship, I don’t think I could’ve walked away from Memphis. The pull is that strong. It’s like she’s part of me.”
He looked back at Bryson. “I owe Uncle Ewen an apology. He’s stronger than I’d thought. A better man than I thought.”
Bryson thought of Becky Hill, the nights of wild sex they’d shared his sophomore year at UT, and what his life would’ve been like these last ten years if she’d gotten pregnant and he’d married her. He’d have done it if she had because it would have been the right thing to do. He probably should have anyway. They’d had sex. They’d both been virgins, and he’d been taught that sex was something special between a husband and his wife.
Granted, he’d let himself forget that for a while when the hot, UT cheerleader came to his apartment one night after a football game, and slowly peeled her clothes away. Telling him that she wanted him to be her first. He sure hadn’t been her last. To this day, it still bothered him what he’d lost because of his weakness.
She hadn’t been his soulmate. But she’d been liquid fire in his arms, and for the months they’d dated, that was all he’d cared about. Until he went to her apartment after a late night at a chemistry lab and found her in bed with a senior football player.
He’d been hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain he’d felt from knowing that he’d let himself fall away from what he’d believed in. He hadn’t been able to see Night Shadows any longer (even though at first he’d liked that) and he hadn’t been able to protect himself or others. It had taken over a year to gain back what he’d lost, and even then, well, one couldn’t get back their virginity once they surrendered it.
He knew that wasn’t something most guys worried about. Matter of fact, most of the men he knew, prided themselves on the number of women they took to bed. That wasn’t the way he’d been raised, and he was proud of Laif for holding everything together all these years. Laif was a much stronger man than he realized. Bryson would give just about anything to have had his brother’s same strength of character.
“Watching her laying there,” Laif said, in a voice much smaller than Bryson had ever heard from him, “knowing that I can’t do anything to help her, is killing me.” He sat up straighter, his tone sharper. “I will protect her from now on. No one is ever going to hurt her again.”
Bryson didn’t know what to say. It seemed Laif had made the decision to stick with this woman. Would Bryson ever find a woman he felt this way about? Would he have a second chance when he’d royally screwed up his first? He hoped so, but at thirty-two, it wasn’t looking promising.
Chapter 6
The Isle of Éire, 1432
Síofra closed her eyes and cried. Her da had brought that woman into their home without so much as asking if she wanted her there. Maybe it would not be so bad if her belly were not filled with her father’s child.
She did love Maolisa, after all, she’d helped raise her, but why were they still together? Síofra was practically a woman now and hadn’t needed a mother in years.
If Maolisa’s child were a boy, Síofra would lose all her inheritance. The boy would take
away everything Síofra had worked for all these years. He’d take her swords and dagger. The legacy her real mother had died for. Girls got nothing in this life. Duinn, a village boy of thirteen, had reminded her many times that girls were worthless in this world. Only boys were worthy of possessions. Girls were possessions, Duinn had said. How she hated Duinn.
“Síofra?” Maolisa, her father’s mistress, neared her, looking scared and hopeful at once. “May I sit?”
Síofra gave a curt nod and sat up on her bed, looking out the window to the beautiful green and blue world, wondering why nothing but the view held beauty for her any longer.
“I did no’ mean for this to ‘appen. Ye know me ‘usband and baby boy died jus’ afore ye were born. Ye knew me ‘ad no place to go. I ‘ad not thought to ever care fer another man.”
Síofra wanted to ignore her. Yea, she knew the tale. It was why her da had built the small home for Maolisa. It may not be fair, these feelings running through Síofra, but she felt them nonetheless.
Maolisa pushed a lock of hair behind Síofra’s ear. “Ye are a great helpmeet to yer da. ‘e loves ye so much. ‘e loved yer mamaí more than the stars. Ye need no’ fear ‘aving another child in yer home. Yer da will no’ be stopping ‘is love fer ye even if it is a son ‘e be getting. Never fear that.”
“If ye ‘ave a son, I will ‘ave nothing. ‘e will take it all.”
Maolisa raised her brow. “And what makes ye think such foolish things? Yer da and me are no’ man and wife. We chose to no’ wed so that ye would no’ be overlooked. Me knows the difficulties of being a woman in this world, and me knows the importance of what ye are learning. Yer da and me will no’ allow any of it to be taken from ye. Ye have me promise.”
Síofra could do nothing but stare at this woman she’d always loved and who her father had found comfort in. “Ye do this for me?”
“Aye, we do. Yer da loves me, and I love him. ‘e is a good man, and he be wantin’ the best fer his children. ‘e worries about ye.”
This woman was willing to let her child suffer so that Síofra would not have to. Síofra gazed into the eyes of this woman who obviously loved her more than Síofra had realized.
A woman willing to sacrifice her happiness for a sixteen-year-old girl. Her mamaí would’ve like this woman and want her da to find happiness again. Even if she didn’t remember her mamaí, Síofra knew all about her. She smiled at the woman who had raised her and said, “cairde.”
Maolisa, too, smiled. “More than friends. Yer, me love.”
Áinle paced. Waiting. Cursing the fates that caused the woman he cared greatly for to be with child. To be screaming in pain and fear, with only the neighbor woman and his sixteen-year-old daughter with her to help bring the wee babe into the world. He prayed for all he was worth that the gods would not take this woman or his child from him. Though he didn’t love Maolisa like he had his Caoimhe, he still cared greatly for her and the child they would have together.
He thought back to his time with Caoimhe. The small tent-like structure they had shared. It had been home to them both, more so than this house he had built for his daughter. He laughed at himself.
Certainly, he could be honest with himself when he was alone. He’d built this house in hopes that Maolisa would want to live with him. Him wanting to wake in her arms each morning. Make love to her every night. If he could not be with his love, Caoimhe, then he could try his hardest to love Maolisa.
Building the house hadn’t changed Maolisa’s mind. She’d been content in the small, one-room structure he’d erected her when she’d first come. At least she had until she had discovered she was with child. It had taken him over ten years to have her in his bed on a nightly basis. He’d been too weak to stay away from her, too in love with his dead wife to want to marry her.
For the first two years they were together, he’d pretended it was Caoimhe’s arms that held him. Caoimhe’s body that welcomed him. It still shamed him that he had used this woman. That he still used her. Aye, he treated her well. He told her often that he loved her. Never raised his hands or his voice in anger. Áinle treated her like she was a princess. Yet he did not love her the way he loved Caoimhe. He could not love anyone the way he loved his beloved wife.
And he was having a babe with Maolisa. As he’d had a babe with Caoimhe.
Maolisa screamed. The sound turned his stomach. “Please, God,” he cried out.
Wailing. That was definitely a babe’s wailing cry. Áinle darted into the bedroom he shared with Maolisa and saw his daughter holding the small babe. She looked up and smiled.
“I ‘ave a brother. And Maolisa has agreed to marry ye. Hannah will no’ be tellin’ anyone ye are no’ married yet. Will ye, Hannah?”
The old woman looked up at Áinle and shook her head. “I’ll no’ say a word.”
Áinle gazed at his daughter, still holding his son, and asked, “Ye are sure ye want this? Yer world would change.”
Síofra looked between her da and the babe, and then, with a wisdom beyond her years and a love greater than the whole of the world, smiled, saying, “Me is no’ so selfish to make me brother be a bastard, Da. Ye must give ‘im yer name.”
And so Áinle would marry Maolisa and make his son his heir. “For yer sacrifice,” Áinle said, “ye, me wonderful daughter, will give yer brother his name.”
Síofra stared at the small bundle in her arms and said, “Ye will be Nuadha.”
Áinle laughed and Maolisa shook her head, saying, “Nuadha is a good name for a dog, but for a son?”
“Nuadha will fight like the fog. ‘e will be fierce, and no one will see ‘im come. Even the demons, the Oíche Scáthanna will fear ‘im. Nuadha will fight by me side and ‘e will always know ‘ow much ‘e is loved by ‘is sister.”
Áinle nodded and took the babe from his daughter. “So, it will be. Maolisa, meet our son, Nuadha. The fog.”
Maolisa took her son, kissed his small head, and as she brought him to her breast, whispered, “Ye will ‘ave a life full of wonder and love. Ye will know hardship, though yer family will help ye in all ye do. ‘ave peace me.”
Chapter 7
Texas, Present Day
Even though Memphis continued to heal, outrageously ahead of schedule according to one of the doctors, she’d slept the whole time over the three days she’d been admitted to the hospital. Laif hadn’t slept in his own bed once during that time and his back and neck were killing him because of it. His mood was not exactly pleasant either as a result.
He was tired, but that was no excuse, he needed to focus. Half his family had gathered in Memphis’s small hospital room for a family meeting.
Laif hoped that Tiegan would have something new to let him know who Memphis was. Falling in love with a woman you didn’t know anything about and who didn’t say more than a few words when she was semi-conscious was pure torment. And Laif had finally come to accept that he was in love with this woman. Or at least, he knew she was his soulmate.
“…and after seeing her place and knowing that the bike guy swears an elderly couple lives there. Claims he’s never laid eyes on Memphis. I figure she’s got people who look out for her. Whatever their reasons. I know the guy was lying about not knowing Memphis, but it would take a lot for him to give up anything about her.”
Except he’d told Laif where Memphis worked for a hundred dollars. So how safe was that?
“I spoke to Shane Evans again too,” Tiegan said to the room at large. “He claims that she came to him four years ago looking for work. She’d spent time in Michigan, but he didn’t check any of her references. He said she was too hot not to hire and that she could bring men in off the streets.” He looked at the woman in the bed. “I can see that.”
Laif growled.
Tiegan grinned at Laif. “If you think falling for a beautiful woman is easy, let me assure you, it is not.”
Julz Murray smiled at her husband. “Good save there, honey. I thought for sure you were wanting to sleep on the couc
h tonight.” She then turned to Laif. “We women find jealously cute for about five minutes, then we figure you have no trust and it just ticks us off.”
“Yeah, tiss off,” four-year-old Julian Murray sputtered, tiny hands balled on tiny hips—a look Laif had seen, not only in his sister Julz but also in the matriarch of the family. He snickered, right along with his father, brother, and brother-in-law as Julz rolled her eyes.
“Anyway—” Julz looked from Memphis, lying asleep in the hospital bed, and back at Laif and sighed. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Laif glared at her but kept his mouth shut. There was no sense in going into his feelings for a woman he barely knew with anyone anymore. He couldn’t explain it. Even to himself.
“Okay.” Julz held up her hands in surrender. “Backing off.”
With a nod, Laif returned his attention to his brother-in-law. “So, this Shane guy, what else did he have to say about Memphis?”
Tiegan flinched slightly, turned to his wife, and said, “Honey, why don’t you go ahead and take the kids down to the nursery to look at the new babies? I’ll come get you when we’re done here.”
Julz looked between her husband and brother and sighed. She picked up eighteen-month-old Cammeron, took Julian by the hand, and left the room.
“It’s so bad you have to kick out the kids?” Laif braced himself for what he knew was coming. This guy was more than her boss. Or at least wanted to be. He waited for what Tiegan had to say. He would stay calm.
He would.
Tiegan shrugged. “Didn’t figure you’d like what he said. Claims that they are very close. That he’d take care of her if he were out of jail. I told him that wasn’t gonna happen, but he said that when Memphis woke up, she’d get him out. That she wouldn’t let him go to jail and that she wouldn’t let anyone else take care of her.”
Laif didn’t swear. He didn’t raise his voice. In fact, he didn’t say anything. For some reason, Laif believed that. He hoped it wasn’t because she’d been so abused that she looked for that in a relationship.
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