Page 5 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

He’d felt it all the way to his bones. Her catlike green eyes had looked into him, as if she could see his very soul, and her dark brown hair and lithesome body had his hands wishing to hold her and make her his own.

His whole life, romantic pursuits had been rare and fleeting. His first girlfriend had decided his profession was not pleasing enough. Others had agreed. He was a mere teacher of young children, and with his ever quiet demeanor, apparently not a catch.

After seeing his brother find a love for the ages, not just with one woman but now a second—with his deceased wife’s help, mind you—he’d thought he might simply be a man for whom great love was not meant to be. He’d tried to make peace with the prospect of a life of quiet bachelorhood like a couple of other older male teachers he knew. He’d even done his part to broaden his horizons by agreeing to help with the Sorcha Fitzgerald Arts Center and its children’s program.

But hope had bloomed in his heart with Sorcha’s news, and he’d wanted to see the woman she spoke of the moment she stepped foot in Ireland.

She was everything he’d hoped she might be, and hehadto know if she was of the same mind.

The way she’d looked at him as she stood there in her loose red sweater and wide-legged black pants over matching boots had given him his answer. She could not yet know of the bond Sorcha spoke of—but she felt something.

So he didn’t mind as he listened to Ellie persuading Sophie to take a girls’ only joyride to the village, saying Jamie wouldn’t mind the peace of his own car. She even joked that she’d let Kathleen drive despite how muchlongerit would take to reach their destination, which had caused Greta to start giggling again.

“You sure you don’t mind being alone on the way back, Jamie?” Sophie had asked, her inquisitive eyes boring into him.

“We can’t very well split you in half, can we, or separate you from dear Greta,” he said, pleased to see her smile at his riposte.

“You shouldn’t have to drive all by yourself,” the little girl said, still clutching the welcome cards in her hands. “You look a little sad.”

She saw way too much. The trip suddenly wasn’t as bright with their absence from him looming in front of him.

“I’ll tide my sorrows over our parting in the Irish way,” he told Greta with a playful wink.

“How’s that?” she asked, curiosity in her big brown eyes.

“By singing loud and long. I’ll see you soon enough at your new house, and maybe you can wave at me while we’re on the road every once in a while. Perhaps when we get to Caisleán, you can tell me what magic you saw on the drive.” He loved seeing things through children’s eyes as much as they liked being asked for their opinions.

“I’ll watch very closely, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she told him in her very serious way.

She was a classic only child, the kind used to conversing with adults. To his teacher’s mind, her vocabulary and mental comprehension were a few levels ahead of her age. He’d also noticed the way she’d tucked herself against his pant leg once they’d arrived at the car park as a passenger bustling past them bid them a good day. She was shy with strangers, though not with him. His Irish heart had warmed at how easily she’d taken to him.

He supposed it should be so, what with the bond Sorcha had proclaimed might grow between him and her mother.

He glanced at Sophie one last time. Her mouth formed a quick smile, but it faded as if she too was feeling their brief parting. They’d have plenty of time to get acquainted, he assured himself as he waved and headed to his own car.

They would take their steps. Slowly. He would make himself an ally and find ways to make her and Greta’s life in Caisleán easier and happier, and when the time was right, he would ask her to dinner.

He was smiling at the wisdom of his thinking as he settled himself in the driver’s seat. Bringing up his favorite playlist, he started singing as he began the long drive to Caisleán. Greta did indeed wave to him from time to time, as did her mother, he was pleased to see. Yes, this was how it should be. Win them over. Let them know they could trust him.

“You’ve got it all planned out, Jamie, me boy.”

He jumped in his seat, hands clutching the wheel, and fought a shriek. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Sorcha! I’m driving!For pity’s sake.”

She stretched out her legs—or the mirage of them—tapping her feet in time to U2’s “Song for Someone” as her familiar scent of oranges spiced the car. “I miss all the times we used to have a pint and sing our hearts out at the Brazen Donkey, but a ghost shouldn’t run with nostalgia. I was only dropping in to tell you a few things as we near Caisleán. You aren’t going to faint, are you?”

He glared at her. “Not anymore. You’ve been popping in with no warning and scaring the life out of me for weeks now. Your last ‘boo’ had me almost cutting my face off while I shaved. But I don’t feel light-headed when I see you anymore. Who could have imagined such a boon?”

Her sense of amusement hadn’t changed now that she was a ghost, nor had her teasing laughter. “You should thank me for it, as you’ve been afraid of ghosts since you were a child.”

“For good reason…”

“You needed to stop fainting so we could get down to the business of your love life. Your quiet life and sense of routine weren’t serving you anymore.”

He shot her a look. “I know it better than you, and it was one of the reasons I agreed to be on the board of directors and head up the children’s arts program—even before I knew about Sophie and her daughter coming.”

“True, and it’s to your credit. But you were meant to be with someone and make a true home. I’ve been waiting for you to find the right woman since Carrick and I first hooked up. I was worried about you, my boy, but no more.”

She gave a hearty gale of a laugh, the kind that had made her a dear childhood friend and captured his brother’s heart. Losing her in a tragic car accident had decimated all of them. Nothing, not his own Irish superstition, could have prepared him for her returning as a ghost to settle them all with their soulmates, a boon she’d wanted to give Carrick’s friends for looking after him when she’d died.

---