Page 48 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
Jamie hunched his shoulders as the rain danced off his waterproof jacket. “I wouldn’t be a very good example to my students if I clocked your father, Kade.”
“You’ve all spoken up before. It won’t change his mind about things. I’ve told you to leave it be.”
“I’d have punched Killian for you,” Sorcha said, appearing on the street.
Carrick jumped a mile.“Jesus.”
Kade elbowed Jamie. “You were right. She’s back. Hello, Sorcha. Thanks for wanting to defend me, but it’s not necessary.”
“So you say. It’s good to see you, Kade. You’re doing well, they tell me. I was going to call on you.”
She smiled, untouched by the rain, her white dress billowing in a wind they didn’t feel in their place and time.
“Then we’re of the same mind, as I was going to ask you to come for a visit,” Kade answered.
“You canaskthem?” Jamie whispered.
Carrick gave him a little shove.
“Back to why I’m here,” his dead wife said in a pointed tone. “You should have helped her, Carrick. She needed it tonight. More than you know.”
Guilt swept through him as he remembered the wooden look on her face. “Leave me be, Sorcha.”
“Kade, help this stubborn man find his way back to his heart. The Yank is the key. I knowyourheart, even better from where I am now. I know you won’t disappoint me.”
She kissed his cheek and then vanished.
“Why did she kiss you and not me?” Carrick asked, his jaw tight. But he knew. She wouldn’t want to torture him that way.
“They can kiss too?” Jamie asked with a gasp.
“She always did like me,” Kade said, meeting his gaze. “And she wants you to move on, doesn’t she?”
“What did she say this time?” Jamie looked back and forth between the two of them, looking pale. Kade answered, but Carrick barely paid attention. The smell of oranges was so strong he wouldn’t have been surprised if the patrons in the pub noticed it. He hoped no one would recognize it. The last thing he needed was anyone knowing Sorcha was back in ghost form, trying to set him up with the Yank.
“As I live and breathe,” Jamie finally said, ending with a whistle. “She’s mighty determined.”
She always had been. And they hadn’t always been of the same mind. He thought of what she’d said about his plans for the house. Certainly, they weren’t of the same mind about that. Anger burned in his chest.
“Did she say anything about me needing to pick up Carrick’s bar tab?” Jamie asked.
Kade only looked puzzled and shook his head. “Well, I guess I have my orders, Carrick. What time will you come by for your pony ride?”
“Up yours, Donovan.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dammit, she should have gotten up on that bar and danced last night.
As Angie got dressed, a litany of regrets played in her mind, like they had for most of the night. Her retro painting clothes felt like sandpaper against her skin, reminding her of all the ways she felt lost and voiceless. She eyed her mousy brown hair with disdain and put it into a ponytail. If she couldn’t express herself without fearing judgment and punishment or losing people’s respect, she couldn’t create anything more than the stilted demos she painted in her art classes.
She had to push through these feelings, or she’d seriously backslide.
Picking up her phone, she noticed a text from Bets.
People are clamoring for art classes after yesterday. Who could have imagined that scene would inspire such an interest in art? Hope you’re game for offering more classes?
She sat down on the bed as her knees gave out in relief. After gathering herself, she crept into the kitchen and cried out. Her sister was sitting at the kitchen table in her tan robe, her hair unbrushed, per her usual grief routine.
