Page 87 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

They saw her at the bar with Ambrose and Boone. They probably got the rest of the vague details by being around us on the job site. And then imagination and gossip filled in the rest.

Small-town people, small-town minds.

“Honey, we are going to leave here in just a few weeks. Less than that, even! You’ll never have to worry about those bitches again.”

“They... called me… a whore,” she says slowly, anger and sadness dripping from every syllable.

“I’m sorry, they’re stupid,” I reply, aching to take her into my arms.

“I’mnota whore.”

“No, baby,” I reassure her, staring deep into her sky-blue eyes. “You are loved. You hear me? You are loved.”

I hear her breath suck in between her teeth.

Did I just say that out loud?

Chapter 37

JOLENE

The airport at Cork looks a lot different on the commercial side than on the private side. We didn’t have to go through regular customs or anything like that. In fact, the agent just came out to the jet and stamped everybody’s passport.

Yes, it was everything I hoped for.

But Amber’s flight is on Aer Lingus, and I am waiting outside the cattle fencing, craning my neck to see if I can spot her glossy, reddish hair.

I checked the satellite imagery, and I think her flight was a lot smoother than ours was.

People shuffle through the gates, questioned briefly by Irish customs agents, dressed in natty uniforms with crisp caps. It sort of reminds me of those pictures of immigration at Ellis Island or whatever. But instead of poor people in headscarves and sepia, everybody has a cell phone. Everybody has rolling luggage.

Finally, I see her. My heart leaps.

A friend!

Then I wonder, are we friends?

Of course we are.

I shift from foot to foot over and over again, feeling like a puppy whose best pal is walking up the driveway.

It is all I can do to keep from throwing myself at her when she clears the arched gate. She tucks her paperwork into the front pocket of her carry-on and casts a sardonic glance in my direction.

“Looks like you are happy to see me,” she observes.

“So happy!” I declare, running forward and throwing my arms around her.

What. We are friends. I don’t care.

“Well, I am happy to see you too,” she chuckles. “Where’s Alexis? Did you bring her?”

“Actually Harrison stayed with the kids,” I explain, shrugging. “I needed to run to the general store on the way, and when he saw the list…”

“Ah, right, grocery shopping is on his list of most hated things,” she nods knowingly.

“Weird, right?” I shrug.

She sighs, laughing as she extends the handle on her rolling suitcase. “With the amount he eats, you would think he would be more excited about getting supplies!”

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