Page 73 of The Irish Arrangement

Declan hated me.

Mom was ill.

All the debts remained.

And I was a liar, deceiving my husband. That stung the worst of all.

When my phone rang again, I answered quickly, so relieved to be able to speak with Oscar.

“Is she okay?” I asked as a greeting.

“I don’t know!” The sounds of chaos filled in from his end. Machinery. Men arguing. Animals protesting. “The tractor engine caught on fire. I’ve been trying to salvage the farm. The buildings are damaged.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth just as knocks sounded on the door. Declan wouldn’t knock. The only other person here who’d seek me out would be Riley.

Tears welled in my eyes as I opened the door to let her in. “Are the animals…?”

Oscar sighed. “They’re fine. Scared but fine. I’ve got some neighbors helping to relocate them and contain it all, but I’m sorry, Cara. I can’t check on Nora.”

I sniffed as Riley entered my room, eyes wide as she closed the door after her. In her hand, she held a tray of food with a cup of coffee. Breakfast. I’d missed it, but the scents of it all bothered my stomach more.

“Okay. I understand.”

“It’s not looking good, kid.” Oscar grunted. “None of this is. I know you said you can’t tell me anything about why you ran off. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you. This is no life. All these worries and everything. The farm, the money, the debt, your mom. But this is the worst timing.”

I nodded. He was wrong. I hadn’t run off. I’d taken the first dumb idea to solve all my problems. And it had colossally backfired.

I disconnected with him when he said he had to go, and I felt worse to keep him on the phone at all, bothering him when he was trying his best.

Riley set the tray on a table, but I shook my head. “No. Please, get that out of here.”

“Not feeling good?” she guessed.

I shook my head. How could I feel all right when my life was breaking apart? When my mom was suffering and my husband hated me?

“I can’t do anything right,” I groaned as I slumped to the couch and rubbed my stomach.

“Eh. I doubt that. I saw you make Declan smile the other day. That’s a miracle in itself.”

It’d be the last one, too. “He won’t be so happy anymore.”

“Why? What happened?” She sat on a chair across from me, seeming sincerely worried.

“Oh, God.”

As she came closer, the smell of the greasy bacon wafted closer. “I’m going to puke.” Covering my mouth with my hand, I tried to stave off the worst of the nausea.

“Damn. You are worrying yourself sick.” She pressed her lips together in a sympathetic frown. “I bet it was scary seeing Declan hurt last night. But that’s life. They’re rough men, but he’ll be fine. Don’t let yourself dwell on the what-ifs of it all.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.” I had been worried when he was hurt, but I’d already seen for myself last night that he was fine and stitched up.

“Then what’s wrong?”

I grimaced, battling the agony of my empty, upset stomach. “The smell of that bacon. And the thought of even eating. It’s making the stress even worse.”

She perked up, grinning. “Cara!”

I reared back at her outburst. “What?”

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