Page 108 of After Indigo Irish Nights
“And I’ve got four years to go.” Kathleen laughed, but it died fast.
When Ellie’s face pinched with concern, she forced a smile that probably convinced no one. She had four more years in the same town as Declan. This was exactly what she’d feared—stuck in the same small town with her ex, who happened to be her best friend’s future brother-in-law.
It would be hard for a while.
“All right then,” Linc said. “I’m off.”
Ellie laid her head against his shoulder. “Where to this time?”
“Munich. Sophie wants me to meet another artist. Hans Shumaker.”
Ellie squealed.
“Jesus, Ellie.” But Kathleen’s heart blipped too. He was a post-modern painter who was on track to be as renowned as Dali, Picasso, and Monet, some said. His giant canvases were famous for their sweeping brushstrokes and utter simplicity. He’d be a big fish.
“But it’s Hans Shumaker! He’s one of the biggest artists in the world.”
Linc snorted. “Do you know that when you put that into a Google search, people like Justin Bieber and Ed Sheeran come up? I swear, sometimes I don’t know what the world is coming to.”
“Is Bets going with you?” Kathleen asked. “If she’s gone, who’s going to help me hire people?”
“I’m headed off on my lonesome,” he said, clearing his throat. “You tell her what you need, and if she needs my help, have her email me.”
Ellie rounded on him. “What’s up with you and Bets?”
“Not a thing, sugar.” He tapped her on the nose, which made her frown. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”
“I hate it when you talk to me like that. I’m not blind, Daddy. I was afraid you had a thing for her. Of all the—”
Kathleen raised her brow and studied him. His poker face wasn’t completely intact. Was that a flush on his cheeks?
“Come on, Ellie.” He hugged her again. “I have three ex-wives. I’ve sworn off relationships. Bets is too smart to be tied up with the likes of me.”
“And she’salsowith Donal,” Ellie reminded him.
He went absolutely still, his blue eyes turning icy. “You questioning my character? I wouldn’t.”
Kathleen nudged Ellie, trying to diffuse the sudden tension. “Come on. You know your daddy. He’s rambunctious, but he isn’t a jerk.”
“Thank you,” Linc said, kissing her cheek. “If you ever need adopting, I’d be proud to call you a Buchanan.”
She laughed. “Thank you. Now, Ellie, tell your father you’re sorry for flying off the handle.”
Ellie crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. I’m sorry. But since I went through the experience of your three ex-wives—my mother included—I can say I agree with your estimation. You, sir, are not marriage material.”
His throat moved, and Kathleen knew the words had hurt him, but his mouth tipped up into a charming smile. “I’ll ask you to remind me of that if I ever go crazy enough to consider that august establishment again. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“Would we do that?” Ellie asked, linking arms with Kathleen. “Seems everything is on track now. What could possibly go wrong?”
* * *
That call came at dawn, jarring Kathleen awake. She lunged for the phone, fearing the worst.
“Kathleen,” Bets said, “someone broke into the shed and took a sledgehammer to your things. Carrick found the damage at the center when he was out checking his sheep.”
Her stomach went queasy. “This is because of the votes.”
“Yes, dammit. They also broke a couple of windows at the arts center. The only good news is we have video of the crime from the GoPros. Carrick called the police. I’m meeting them at the arts center. Kathleen, it was Owen Kincaid.”
