by Nora Roberts
"I don't believe in that sort of thing."
"You've too much Irish in you not to." Very gently he drew her through the arch of stone and into the center of the dance.
Determined to be practical, she folded her arms over her chest and moved away from him. "I'd like to paint it, if you'd let me."
"It doesn't belong to me. The land around it's mine, but it belongs to itself. You paint it if it pleases you."
"It would." Relaxing again, she wandered the inner circle. "I know people back home who'd pay for a chance to stand here. The same ones who go to Sedonna looking for vortexes and worry about their chakras."
Murphy grinned as he scratched his chin. "I've read of that. Interesting. Don't you think there are some places and some things that hold old memories in them? And the power that comes from them?"
She could, nearly could, standing there. If she let herself. "I certainly don't think hanging some pretty rock around my neck is going to improve my sex life." Amused, she looked back at him. "And I don't think a farmer believes it, either."
"Well, I don't know about wearing a necklace to make things more interesting in bed. I'd rather depend on myself for that."
"I bet you do" Shannon murmured and turned away to stroke one of the stones. "Still, they're so ancient, and they've stood here for longer than anyone really knows. That's magic in itself. I wonder-" She broke off, holding her breath and listening hard. "Did you hear that?"
He was only a pace away now, and waited, and watched. "What did you hear, Shannon?"
Her throat was dry; she cleared it. "Must have been a bird. It sounded like someone crying for a second."
Murphy laid a hand on her hair, let it run through as he had before. "I've heard her. So have some others. Your sisters. Don't stiffen up," he murmured, turning her to face him. "Blood's blood, and it's useless to ignore it. She weeps here because she lost her lover. So the story goes."
"It was a bird," Shannon insisted.
"They were doomed, you see," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He was only a poor farmer, and she was the daughter of the landlord. But they met here, and loved here, and conceived a child here. So it's said."
She was cold again and, fighting back a shiver, spoke lightly. "A legend, Murphy? I'd expect there'd be plenty about a spot like this."
"So there are. This one's sad, as many are. He left her here to wait for him, so they could run off together. But they caught him, and killed him. And when her father found her the next day, she was as dead as her love, with tears still on her cheeks."
"And now, of course, she haunts it."
He smiled then, not at all insulted by the cynicism. "She loved him. She can only wait." Murphy took her hands to warm them in his. "Gray thought of doing a murder here, but changed his mind. He told me it wasn't a place for blood. So instead of being in his book, it'll be on your canvas. It's more fitting."
"If I get to it." She should have tugged her hands away, but it felt so good to have his around them. "I need more supplies if I decide to do any serious painting while I'm here. I should get back. I'm keeping you from your work, and Brianna's probably holding breakfast for me."
But he only looked at her, enjoying the way her hands felt in his, the way the air blushed color in her cheeks. Enjoyed as well the unsteady pulse he felt at her wrists, and the quick confusion in her eyes.
"I'm glad I found you sitting on my wall, Shannon Bodine. It'll give me something to picture the rest of my day."
Annoyed with the way her knees were melting, she stiffened them and cocked her head. "Murphy, are you flirting with me?"
"It seems I am."
"That's flattering, but I don't really have time for it. And you've still got my hands."
"So I do." With his eyes on hers, he lifted them, pressed his lips to her knuckles. His smile was quick and disarming when he let her go. "Come walking with me again, Shannon."
She stood a moment when he turned and stepped out of the dance. Then, because she couldn't resist, she darted to one of the arches and watched him walk, with a whistle for the dog, over his field.
Not a man to underestimate, she mused. And she watched until he'd disappeared behind a rise, unconsciously rubbing her warmed knuckles against her cheek.
Chapter Seven
Shannon didn't know how to approach her first visit to an Irish pub. It wasn't that she didn't look forward to it. She always enjoyed new things, new places, new people. And even if she'd been resistant, Brianna's obvious pleasure at the idea of an evening out would have pushed her into going.
Yet she couldn't quite resolve herself to the idea of taking a baby to a bar.
"Oh, you're ready." Brianna glanced up when Shannon started down the stairs. "I'm sorry, I'm running behind. The baby was hungry, then needed changing." She swayed as she spoke, Kayla resting in the crook of one arm, a tray with two cups of tea balanced in the other.
"Then the sisters complained about itchy throats and asked for some hot toddies."
"The sisters?"
"The Freemonts, in the blue room? Oh, you probably missed them. They just came in today. Seems they got caught in the rain and took a chill." Brianna rolled her eyes. "They're regulars, are the Freemonts, so I try not to mind their fussing. But they spend the three days a year they have here doing little else. Gray says it's because they've lived with each other all their lives and neither ever had a decent tumble with a man."
She stopped herself, flushed, then managed a weak smile when Shannon laughed.
"I shouldn't be talking that way about guests. But the point is, I'm a little behind things, so if you wouldn't mind waiting?"
"Of course not. Can I-"
"Oh, and there's the phone. Blast it, let it ring."
"Where's Gray?"
"Oh, he's investigating a crime scene, or killing someone else. He snarled when I poked into his studio, so he'll be no help at the moment."
"I see. Well, can I do something?"
"I'd be grateful if you could take the baby for a few minutes, just while I run this tray upstairs and pamper the sisters a bit." Brianna's eyes gleamed. "It won't take long; I used a free hand with the whiskey."
"Sure, I'll take her." Warily Shannon shifted Kayla into her arms. The baby felt so terrifyingly small there, and fragile. "I haven't had a lot of practice. Most of the women I know are concentrating on their career and putting off having children."
"A pity, isn't it, that it's still so much easier for men to do both. If you'd just walk her a bit. She's restless-as anxious I think to get out and have some music and company as I am."
With an enviable grace, Brianna darted up the steps with her tray and doctored tea.
"Restless, Kayla?" Shannon strolled down the hall and into the parlor. "I know the feeling." Charmed, she skimmed a finger down the baby's cheek and felt that quick jolt of pleasure when a tiny fist gripped it. "Strong, aren't you? You're no pushover. I don't think your mother's one, either."
Indulging herself, she snuck a kiss, then another, delighted when Kayla bubbled at her.
"Pretty great, isn't she?"
Still starry-eyed, Shannon looked up and smiled as Gray strode into the room. "She's just beautiful. You don't realize how tiny they are until you're holding one."
"She's grown." He bent down, grinned at his daughter. "She looked like an indignant fairy when she was born. I'll never forget it."
"She looks like her mother now. Speaking of which, Brianna's upstairs drugging the Freemont sisters."
"Good." Gray seemed to find that no surprise, and nodded. "I hope she does a good job of it; otherwise they'll keep her busting her ass for three days."
"She seems to do that pretty well on her own."
"That's Brie. Want a drink before we go, or would you rather wait for a pint at the pub?"
"I'll wait, thanks. You're going with us? I thought you were killing someone."
"Not tonight. They're already dead." Gray considered a whiskey, opted against. He was more in the m
ood for a Guinness. "Brie said you wanted to do some painting while you're here."
"I think I do. I brought some things with me, enough to get started anyway." Unconsciously she was mimicking Brianna's movements by swaying the baby. "She said I could use the car and try Ennis for more supplies."
"You'd do better in Galway, but you might find what you need there."
"I don't like to use her car," Shannon blurted out.
"Worried about driving on the left?"
"There is that-but it just doesn't feel right to borrow it."
Considering, Gray eased down on the arm of the sofa. "Want some advice from a fellow Yank?"
"Maybe."
"The people around here are a world unto themselves. Offering to give, to lend, to share everything, themselves included, is second nature. When Brie hands you the keys to her car, she isn't thinking-is she insured, does she have a driving record-she's just thinking someone needs the car. And that's all there is to it."
"It isn't as easy from my end. I didn't come here to be part of a big, generous family."
"Why did you come?"
"Because I don't know who I am." Furious that it had come out, that it had been there to come out, she handed him the baby. "I don't like having an identity crisis."
"Can't blame you," Gray said easily. "I've been there myself." He caught the sound of his wife's voice, patient, soothing. "Why don't you give yourself a little time, pal? Enjoy the scenery, gain a few pounds on Brianna's cooking. In my experience, the answers usually come when you least expect them."
"Professionally or personally?" He rose, gave her a friendly pat on cheek. "Both. Hey, Brie, are we going or not?"
"I just have to get my bag." She hurried in, smoothing her hair. "Oh, Gray, are you going then?"
"Do you think I'd miss an evening out with you?" With his free hand he circled her waist and swept her into a quick waltz.
Her face was already glowing. "I thought you were going to work."
"I can always work." Even as her lips curved, he was lowering his to them.
Shannon waited a beat, then another before clearing her throat. "Maybe I should wait outside, in the car. With my eyes closed."
"Stop it, Grayson, you're embarrassing Shannon."
"No, I'm not. She's just jealous." And he winked at the woman he already considered his sister-in-law. "Come on, pal, we'll find a guy for you."
"No, thanks, I just got rid of one."
"Yeah?" Always interested, Gray handed the baby to his wife so that he could circle Shannon's waist. "Tell us all about it. We live for gossip around here."
"Leave her be," Brianna said with an exasperated laugh. "Don't tell him anything you don't want to find in a book."
"This wouldn't make very interesting reading," Shannon decided and stepped outside into the damp air. It had rained, and was raining still, just as predicted.
"I can make anything interesting." Gray opened the car door for his wife with some gallantry, then grinned. "So, why'd you dump him?"
"I didn't dump him." It was all just absurd enough to brighten her mood. Shannon slid into the backseat and shook back her hair. "We parted on mutually amenable terms."
"Yeah, yeah, she dumped him." Gray tapped his fingers on the back of the seat as he eased into the road. "Women always talk prissy when they break a guy's heart."
"Okay, I'll make it up." Shannon flashed Gray a smile in the rearview mirror. "He crawled, he begged, he pleaded. I believe he even wept. But I was unmoved and crushed his still-bleeding heart under my heel. Now he's shaved his head, given away all his worldly goods, and joined a small religious cult in Mozambique."
"Not too shabby."
"More entertaining than the truth. Which was we didn't really share any more than a taste for Thai food and office space, but you're welcome to use either version in a book."
