Page 95 of When Sparks Fly

My eyes bug and my mouth falls open in half awe and half humor, as I shake my head.

“Stephanie was wild and free. We dated for three weeks before we eloped to Vegas. Hid away in my house after and a few weeks later we found out you were on the way.” He winks.

“That doesn’t sound like my mother at all.” Stephanie doesn’t have a wild bone in her body. Randi’s description of her resurfaces in my mind.

“Don’t know much about her now, but she was then.” He straightens and places both hands in his pockets, dropping his eyes to the floor. “We hadthree perfect years together. Then word came about my brother in Ireland.” His green eyes look vacant for a few quiet moments.

“What happened?” Unable to sit still any longer, I stand and move to lean against the railing near James.

“Murdered.” He blinks before meeting my eyes. “Like I said, your mam was right. My family has a dangerous history. Ties to the Irish mafia.” There’s no change in his tone to indicate this seems odd to him or that he’s joking.

“Irish mafia?” My voice on the other hand is almost a screech.

A hint of amusement dances in his eyes, though I think it’s directed at me and not at the topic of discussion. “Yes. Suffice it to say, there was concern after his murder that others would come for me. And my kin.” He holds my stare, his green eyes full of seriousness. “So when Stephanie ran off in the night to protect you, it broke my heart, but it was the right thing to do. And though I’d never betray your whereabouts, it was better I didn’t know.”

“Have you been here the whole time?”

He dips his chin in affirmation. “Your mother kept a low profile and I tried not to interfere. She never sent cards or photos, and it killed me not to see you grow up.” His eyes take in my face. “But I knew it was you when I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Oh my God, does Colt know?”

“Most of the club doesn’t know much of my history. Adds to the mystery.” A devilish grin brings a youthfulness to his face. He’s incredibly handsome and I can guess when he was younger he was heartbreaking. “I didn’t tell you that night because it didn’t seem like the right time.”

“And today did?” My arms cross on their own. Never mind all the questions swirling in my head about if the rest of my family knew he was still around and never mentioned him to me. Or how we never ran into each otheruntil now. There’s so many years missed between us, and I know we won’t get through it all in one conversation.

“Saw you both at lunch. I figured if there was a good time, it’d be now, when we could all clear the air.” He says nothing else, letting his intention hang in the air. Letting me process. “I don’t expect you to trust me. Especially if your mom has shared only the scary things.”

“She didn’t share much.” I interrupt his follow-up. “Stephanie has never been forthcoming with me.” My hands rub a non-existent chill from my crossed arms. “We aren’t very close.”

“No?” His full lips purse.

I smirk. “Enough family stories for one day.”

For a time we’re quiet. James surveys the land and I contemplate all I’ve heard. When he speaks again, it’s an unasked question. “Colt said you don’t live here.”

“I didn’t.” I smile. “Looks like I’m going to be sticking around.”

“The cowboy?” He eyes me carefully, like depending on my answer, he might have more to say.

“He’s a rancher. I’m staying because I’m going to buy Nana’s house, though. This house.” I chew my lip for a moment.

His eyes twinkle. “Lovely woman. Think she liked me, too.” He exhales a long breath. “Don’t know what she thought once your mam ran off with you, though.”

“She never said anything to me about you,” I tell him honestly, taking him in again. “Maybe we can see each other again.”

He smiles. “We can. You stop by the clubhouse whenever you want. It’s out past Walnut Grove. There’s a gravel road about three miles back on the right, easy to miss. Follow that to the end.”

James shifts to go and so many things rush through my mind. “The police are still looking for Colt. Do you know how they can find him?”

He pauses and looks over my face, then shakes his head. “Not sure what he wanted from the club, but don’t think it was brotherhood. He never got close with anyone.”

His statement fits with what I observed the night at the bar. Colt only talked with Pete, but even that seemed sparse.

Having never done it before, I’m not sure how to say goodbye to a man who has just disclosed he’s my father and has ties to the Irish mob. Silently, I watch as he heads down the porch stairs, before stopping at the bottom and turning to face me.

“Oh, and Gracie?”

His use of my middle name as a nickname causes my breath to catch. The best I can do is try to filter my emotions and listen to what he’s about to say.

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