Page 39 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
“Not at all. You’ve dropped a few hints here and there about your parents. I know she’s a nurse and he’s a senior military officer who’s been hard on you. I imagine the Jack Nicholson character inA Few Good Menminus the cover-up.”
“You have him right, except he’s more handsome, I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “He parented us like we were privates in basic training. He even bragged to his friends about it.”
“That mustn’t have felt very caring or encouraging.” He worked with kids and knew what they responded to.
“It didn’t.” She tugged on the collar of her windbreaker. “I tried to be what he wanted. I remember us hosting a Memorial Day barbeque for his work colleagues when I was fourteen. All the women had mostly straight hair to their shoulders—no bangs or frizz like I’d seen at school—and they wore sweater sets and neutral pleated pants. I thought he’d like me if I looked like them. He laughed a lot at that party, and trust me, he didn’t laugh like that at home.”
Maybe it was his own thoughts about his father and racing, but he could see so clearly how she’d become the woman she was trying to leave behind. “It seems like the way you’re going—not trying to win his approval anymore and be who you want—is working well.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. “I still feel vulnerable at times, but I’m feeling stronger in it all.”
“It shows,” he said, picking up a piece of green glass and handing it to her. “In fact, it looks downright beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off you when you’re like that.”
The words hung heavy in the air. He watched her swallow thickly.
“Good to know,” she said, coughing to clear her throat. “I’m going to have to keep really busy with the St. Stephen’s Day fair so I can stay that way. By the way, do you have a favorite local band? We talked about finding one for the event.”
He decided the abrupt change in subject meant she needed time to process what he’d said. So he didn’t press her. “I have a few favorites,” he said, laughing when a seal gave a bark as a seagull buzzed it. “You’ll want one to donate their time possibly?”
“Yes, although I expect that will be tough. Musicians deserve to be paid.”
“You’re donating all the money you make on your pots,” he pointed out.
“But I work at the arts center. I need it to stay open. We both know I’m not the greatest farmhand.”
He threw back his head and laughed, making a seal bark again. “That sounds like an American Western movie. Megan, love, I don’t have you around for that. I have you around because you’re good with horses and children, and I like being around you.”
He also wanted them to share their passions, which was why he’d enlisted in her class.
“Good with kids?” She wrinkled her nose. “My son is just starting to like me.”
“It probably helps that you’re recovering from the clean freak thing,” Kade said with a wink. “He’s a boy. I remember liking to play without a thought to my clothes. To give my mother credit, she knew we loved to roam, me and Shannon. She’d have us strip off our clothes in the laundry room in the back when we came in especially muddy.”
“But she let you roam, as you said.” Megan dug her toe in the sand. “I wasn’t letting Ollie do that before.”
“You are now, love, and look how he’s thriving.”
Her smile started slowly. “Heisthriving. He loves school, and he likes playing with friends after it or being with Angie and Carrick and Liam. Andyou.”
“He’ll remember the freedom you’ve given him, trust me.” Kade looked at his watch. “I don’t want to go back, but we have a client.”
“Maybe you can come by and watch a movie with me after Ollie goes to bed,” she said, ducking her head. “Angie mentioned watchingThe Wind That Shakes the Barley. She thought it gave a good historical perspective on recent Irish history.”
He’d seen it and liked it very much. “I’d love to. Do you like popcorn?”
Her smile turned into a grin. “I do.”
It’s a date,he almost said. “Then I’ll bring some.”
She tried to brush off more sand before giving up and tucking her treasures into her jacket pocket. He helped her into the saddle and gave in to the urge to race a little more when Legend showed the inclination.
When they reached the yard and saw to the horses, he watched as she greeted ten-year-old Jakub Doyle and his mother. When the autistic boy had first come to him two years ago, he’d vacillated between being terribly withdrawn and wildly frustrated with his difficulty in communicating how he was feeling and thinking. Kade had been working with him on that, and although it was an ongoing process, the boy had flourished.
Jakub had been shy with Megan at first, but she’d shown him pictures of Ollie, and by the end of their first joint session, he’d started hugging her around the waist and asking about her son.
It had made Kade fall even harder for her.
After preparing Jakub to ride, Kade helped him onto Winston, who always made him laugh by his habit of bowing. Even Legend was charmed by it, Kade had noticed.
