Page 7 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

As the car with Sophie and company turned onto the drive leading to Linc’s former home, which was to be theirs now that he’d moved in with Bets O’Hanlon, he noticed a large black lorry with a crane idling down the road with its hazards on. He wondered if it was having mechanical issues, so he continued straight and pulled up alongside it. There was a flatbed behind it. God, it was a monstrosity.

The driver rolled his window down after Jamie made the motion with his hands. “You having trouble?”

The older man pulled his brown cap down further on his forehead before responding, “No, we were just waiting for the people at that drive you just passed to arrive. We have business with them.”

He didn’t like the way the man wouldn’t meet his eyes. He could hear a few other men in the back of the cab, but he couldn’t see them. They weren’t from around here. “I’m friends of theirs and can tell them—”

“I’ll follow you in then,” the driver responded and promptly rolled up his window.

Jamie took a moment before turning around. Surely he was overreacting. Linc was probably having something delivered for Sophie and Greta last minute. Knowing him, he’d probably been brainstorming ways he could make his former home more female-friendly.

The women were stretching beside the car when he reached the house, a luxurious mobile home Linc had bought and had delivered—a brilliant solution to the housing shortage in Ireland, Jamie thought. Sophie’s rental car was parked in front of it.

“Mr. Fitzgerald!” Greta ran over and took his hand. “Have you seen our house and our new car? And the pasture! It’s green everywhere—so many shades Mama is in artistic heaven—but that’s why Ireland is called the Emerald Isle, right?”

“What a marvelous memory you have. That’s the way of it exactly.” He smiled at her, watching surreptitiously as her mother began to walk toward them. Ellie and Kathleen headed directly for the door of the mobile home.

My, she was beautiful, with the golds and reds of her hair shining in a patch of sunlight from above. He could quite simply look at her forever. Suddenly, he was sick of being cautious. He couldn’t wait for the right time to get her alone and ask her out. He could not do so in front of Greta.

“I wish we could have driven part of the way with you,” Sophie said, her green eyes direct, “but Ellie and Kathleen really didn’t stop talking. Not that I mind. I love their enthusiasm. They’re making sure everything is perfect inside before we get a tour.”

“They’re like puppies,” Greta said with a wide grin. “So eager.”

“Do you like puppies?” Jamie asked, casting a surreptitious glance over his shoulder as the lorry drew nearer.

“I love them! They’re so cute.”

He tucked that detail away. His friend, Kade, who took children out on pony rides, had two dogs and would surely bring them over for Greta to play with.

“Yer man said he has business here,” he told them as the driver killed the engine and swung out.

“My man?” Sophie responded, regarding him with wide-eyed shock. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“It’s an Irish saying.” He recalled his sister-in-law from America complaining about it. “It means some guy. Not someone you know.”

“Oh.”

Greta crowded closer as the driver reached them, prompting Sophie to give her little head a comforting stroke. “Honey, why don’t you go ask Ellie to show you your room?”

Her daughter didn’t move, and Jamie stepped closer so she could also take cover behind him.

Sophie sent him a brief smile, and he had the urge to draw her closer as well.

“Are you the owner of this mobile home?” the driver called out, playing with his cap again.

“No, that would be Linc Buchanan,” Sophie responded. “But I’ll be living here. We just arrived today.”

The man pulled out a thick stack of papers from his coat, walked closer, and thrust them out aggressively.

Jamie stepped in front of Sophie. “Watch yourself.”

“I’m not the one in the wrong,” the man answered tersely. “The owner doesn’t have the right permits for this mobile home. I’m here to take it.”

“What?” Sophie’s outrage carried across the yard, prompting Ellie and Kathleen to hurry out of the front door.

“That’s impossible,” Jamie said calmly. “I know for certain Linc Buchanan secured the necessary permits.” They’d had this kind of problem before, after all, and Linc was nothing if not thorough.

“See for yourself.” The man thrust the documentation against Jamie’s chest and whistled loudly.

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