Page 59 of After Indigo Irish Nights
He’d blown it. All the way.
She was honest enough to admit that it raised a measure of mistrust in her. Since it also reminded her of Axl, it was never a good thing for a girl to think she might be repeating toxic relationship patterns.
She ended up staying at the pub late with Brady, Ellie, Liam, and Jamie, the latter of whom she was coming to know better. The other Fitzgerald brother could be quiet, but he had a dry wit and the kind of sweetness that probably made him a good teacher. In fact, they were the last ones left in the parking lot when Sorcha appeared out of nowhere.
“Oh, Jesus!” Jamie cried, clutching his chest. “Not again.”
Kathleen couldn’t sum it up better.
Sorcha cocked her hip and laughed boldly, her white dress illuminated by the waning full moon. Never say the ghost didn’t enjoy a touch of drama.
“I waited until the others left so I’d have you to myself. Both of you. Jamie Fitzgerald, you’re as green as the first time I appeared to you. Your day is coming, man! Be ready for me by the time the autumn tide begins to swell.”
“Don’t torture me with such threats,” the man said, standing his ground. “I can take care of things myself, Sorcha Fitzgerald. I don’t want your help.”
“Still you will have it, my dear,” Sorcha said, her brown hair blowing despite the lack of wind.
“You can’t tell her anything,” Kathleen muttered.
“You should be nicer to me, Sorcha,” he shot back, “seeing as I’m going to help the children of Caisleán find a way to enjoy your center. Maybe some will even become artists like Kathleen herself.”
Sorcha arched a delicate brow before saying, “It’s happy I am, what you’re about. But in the love department, you’re in desperate need of help. If you could have handled it, Jamie Fitzgerald, you’d be married by now. I’ll see you soon, Jamie boy. Now go! I need to speak with the Yank.”
A lock of curly brown hair had fallen onto Jamie’s forehead, making the whites of his eyes appear even bigger. “I’ll be letting the Yank give me leave, Sorcha. It’s not that I don’t trust you—we were kin—but I won’t leave a woman alone with you unless she bids me.”
Kathleen pursed her lips. Jamie had gallantry. “I’ll be fine, Jamie. She likes to jerk my chain, but as she’s finding, I can jerk back.”
The ghost chuckled darkly. “She and I understand each other well.”
He crossed himself. “Kathleen, you’ll find me if you need me. Good luck.”
She waited until he was gone. When she turned back to Sorcha, she raised her brow. “Really?Is this how you get your kicks in the afterlife?”
“If you meancraic, yes, I do enjoy moments such as these.” She walked to Kathleen, the white nimbus of light around her growing brighter. “You think you had a setback tonight.”
This damn ghost was downright telepathic. “Setback? In my neighborhood, we’d say he fucked up.”
Sorcha’s laugh was so rich it startled a bird into flying off. “I like you, Yank. That’s exactly the way of it. Only… I’m here to tell you that sometimes we don’t see the truth of things. Declan fighting Jimmy Slavin and taking himself off without a word to anyone, yourself included, is much like an arrow being pulled backward. The motion might seem contrary—until the force of the revolution is applied to sending the arrow sailing even farther ahead. Straight to its mark.”
Not the arrow analogy! She’d heard musicians talk like that, and it had always seemed like a bunch of bullshit to cover up bad behavior. “We’ll see. Can I go now? Or were you hoping I might faint?”
“Faint? That would be the day. Declan will need your understanding because there is much force driving that arrow back. I hope you remember that when you see him later tonight.”
Her laugh was bitter, and didn’t she know it? “I don’t plan on seeing him later.”
If he thought he could waltz in and get lucky, he had another thing coming.
“That’s the kind of thinking I’m telling you won’t be of help here—to you or to him.” Sorcha sighed heavily. “I wish I had learned that before I died. It would have saved me many an unhappy night. I could have been ensconced in Carrick’s arms as opposed to angry enough that I spilled cold potato leek soup on him for forgetting to call me about missing dinner. Learn from my mistakes, Kathleen O’Connor, if you will. Never go to bed angry—when there’s love. Of course, he should apologize when he does you wrong. But where there’s true love, there’s regret in hurting another.”
Her green eyes beat into Kathleen, who felt a growing feeling of disquiet. The thing was, whatever had prompted it, she wasn’t ready to let Declan’s behavior go yet.
He’d hurt her.
The first time someone did that in a relationship was the most potent. She could still remember the first time Axl had done it. She’d cried in the bathroom at the club where he’d left her without even paying their tab. Why had she let that go? She should have seen it for what it was—a red flag. She’d been stupid to ignore that kind of crap, telling herself it was all in the course of real relationships and “true love.” What bullshit.
“No witty reply, Kathleen?” Sorcha smiled sadly when she said nothing. “I’ll see you soon, nonetheless.”
After she vanished, Kathleen stood there for a moment longer, taking a few cleansing breaths to calm herself. Man, she was worked up.
