Page 2 of Over Verdant Irish Hills

Her usually patient youngest son strode into her garden with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dove gray trousers. Liam’s brow was knit, and when he started to kneel down beside her, she shot to her feet. “You’ll get your pants dirty.”

“We live in the country, Mum. Dirt is inevitable. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re out here toiling away, or are you going to make me say it?”

Her son had witnessed Sorcha’s visit and shocking pronouncement, same as her, so she gave a dramatic eye roll. “You know why.”

“What’s holding you back from talking to Linc about your feelings? Mum, all you’ve been doing since Sorcha told you that you were meant for each other is hide away in your house—”

“I come out to my rose garden twice a day,” she protested. “Besides, I saw him a week ago.”

“And you came back more moody than before,” he said, pointing to her outfit of gardening togs, dirt-smudged brown khakis, and a worn navy T-shirt. “Now you’re weeding when you should be getting ready. Mum, you’ve reached a new level of avoidance.”

“I know!”

“Normally you’d be early to a wedding so you could talk to everyone before the ceremony. This isn’t you.”

She wanted to hang her head. “Liam, I hate to tell you this, but maybe your mum is chicken-livered.” Heck, maybe Linc was too, for that matter, and two scared chickens didn’t have a chance.

“No, she’s not.” He took her arm and led her out of the garden. “She left her home country to come to the Emerald Isle. She started an arts center in the wilds of Western Ireland that has become the talk of the international art circuit. She’s followed her heart—”

“Not always, Liam.” She stopped him on the path back to the house as a gentle breeze blew through the ash and oak trees towering above them. “I know what Sorcha said, but I still have questions.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Thenaskher. I’m giving you five minutes to do it, and then I’m turning the hose on you.”

She used to threaten her boys with that when they’d arrive at her doorstep after playing outside, covered in Irish mud. “You’ve waited a long time to threaten me with that one.”

He gave her a rakish wink, the perfect complement to the gold earring he wore in his left ear, which everyone said made him look like a pirate. “I can’t wait to tell Rhys and Wyatt. I wish they could have come to the wedding.”

All her sons shared her spirit of adventure, and her eldest boys were still embodying it with their life choices. “It would be a long way to come from Australia. Besides, they’re still new to the winery.”

“Five minutes,” he said again, holding up his bare wrist and tapping it as though a watch were there. “Or the hose.”

“Or the hose. Got it. Liam, how does one call a ghost?”

He laughed. “Dial G? I don’t know. Just say her name, Mum. The others say she just shows up.”

That would certainly make things easier, but Sorcha hadn’t shown up since that first unsettling encounter. Bets watched as Liam sauntered down the tree-lined path. He’d better be joking about the hose. At sixty-one, there was no way she could outrun the spray.

“You’re more nimble than you think,” the dark-haired Sorcha said, materializing out of nowhere.

Bets let out a scream before slapping her hand over her mouth.

The ghost’s white dress swirled around her as she gave an impish smile. “Last time you acted like I was a mouse, Bets. This time, a killer in the woods. I can’t wait for next time. Now, what can I do for you?”

She unglued her hands from her dry mouth and thought about sitting on the bare ground to help her weak knees. “I have questions.”

“Many seem to. Even so, I can’t fathom why you’d have questions about what I told you last time. Do you or do you not love spending time with Linc Buchanan? Do you not light up inside when he steps into a room? Do you not miss him when you’re apart? Do you not want to lie with him at night and cuddle up with him by day?”

Her back straightened as her heart took passage on a hurricane-besieged ship. “Hey! I’m the one with the questions here.”

“So ask me a good one.” Sorcha crossed her arms. “We only have three minutes.”

Bets worried her lip, compiling her thoughts. “I was married for nearly thirty years. IlovedBruce.”

“No one is saying otherwise,” Sorcha said softly. “But you’re wondering whether he was your soulmate too? Are you asking out of guilt, Bets? Because I think you already know the answer.”

She looked down at her shoes. Her heart throbbed with the sad truth, and it hurt to say it out loud. “We loved each other, but things settled between us—like an old house does. We became comfortable with each other. We…lost our passion for each other.” Just like she and Donal had drifted from each other in the end.

“It all happened very quickly too, didn’t it? Once you two returned to his hometown here in Ireland, the man you’d fallen in love with returned to his old patterns, and your life together wasn’t what you’d expected. It never changed. For some that would be okay. But not for you.”

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