Page 100 of After Indigo Irish Nights
“I can take it. I need to do this, Kathleen. The village is counting on the fight. Everything is set up. Every ticket has been sold. They need it for the arts center. They need it to help secure permission for your sculpture, or don’t you remember?”
How could she forget? “I still wish it were otherwise.”
“I don’t,” he said harshly. “I can’t walk away from a fight with Jimmy, Kathleen. Not with our history.”
Stupid men, she thought, but she kept her mouth shut. Her offer of support had become a point of contention.
His eyes flashed then. “Are you doubting I can win?”
She wished she’d never said anything. “No, of course not. I just hate seeing you like this.”
He was silent a moment before he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “All right. Let’s go to sleep. I hope I don’t wake you. I’m going to get up a little earlier and head to the club.”
“Earlier than five?” she asked, startled.
When he nodded, she bit the inside of her cheek. He was back to being the driven man she didn’t completely understand, the one who’d stayed out all night after his fight rather than coming home, the one who felt distant and unreachable. She turned on her side, away from him, trying to hide the surprising tears in her eyes.
“It’s only a little longer,mo chroí.”
She found no comfort in his assurances.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Fighting had the power to drive a man to madness.
Especially when he was facing his greatest opponent for the highest of stakes. His relationship with Kathleen. Her sculpture and the arts center. His ownership of the butcher shop. The pride of the village. The vindication of his past humiliation.
As he paced in the locker room before the bout, Declan reflected that he couldn’t wait for it to be over.
In the lead-up to the fight, a distance had been growing between him and Kathleen, the roots planted the night she’d started a hypothetical conversation about giving him money not to fight. He’d punched out his anger at how poorly the conversation had gone more than once. He’d even sent her a few “stupid criminal” videos to lighten her mood.
But it hadn’t worked. She’d been hurt by his refusal, and it was the kind of hurt that wasn’t dissipating with time.
The whole thing was as imaginary as the fairy world—she didn’t have the hypothetical money, so she could no more offer it than he could accept it—and yet, it had caused her to be more guarded with him. She’d called him Ace a few times and slept at her cottage for a few nights, citing the need to be ready to start the upcoming installation once planning approval was given. Suggestingheneeded to conserve his energy for the upcoming fight. When he’d protested, she’d insisted.
He knew better than to accept her words at face value. Wariness had crept between them. This morning he’d presented her with red roses and the autographed Chieftains CD he’d finally received, wanting some time with her before the fight today, and even though she’d grinned and carried on about it, he’d sensed her holding back. She’d been supportive going into the match, of course, and they’d made love with an urgency that had felt soul deep. But he knew her heart, and it had closed some of its shutters to him.
He had ground to make up, and make it up he would—after this fight.
“I’m about ready to find those stones and start throwing them at you,” Eoghan said, rising from his chair in the corner. “You need to focus, my boy. I saw Jimmy earlier. He’s as cocky as ever. You’ll need your wits about you to beat him.”
He knocked his gloves together. “I’m ready.”
I’ve been ready for five years.He closed his eyes and imagined knocking Jimmy out again. That image had kept him going these last weeks.
Donal let himself into the locker room. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m grand.” Declan met his gaze head-on. “How’s your politicking?”
“Tom MacKenna’s here with Orla and Mary Kincaid this time, and Owen is trailing behind them. But don’t worry none. Linc and I have everything in hand.”
Both men were finally back in Caisleán. It had surprised and unsettled Declan that one of his major boxing trainers had decided to have an extended family visit right before the fight. As for Linc, he’d been off meeting with potential artists, according to Ellie, likely to aid their upcoming proposal to the council members, one they hoped to present tomorrow.
“How does Tom look?” Eoghan asked.
Donal gave a dark chuckle. “He’s grim as a goblin, Dad.”
“Good.” Eoghan nodded. “That means he knows we’re making inroads. Go. Make some more. I have the young buck.”
