Page 20 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

“January,” Greta said, holding up the fluffy sheep to her eye level. “You’d better not escape on me.”

Sophie kissed the top of her head. “I think we’re safe. Should I wish you luck?”

He wanted to touch her cheek but didn’t dare do so in front of Greta. “Sure. We Irish will take luck wherever and whenever we can get it. I’ll see you tonight.”

When he drove up to the south fence of Carrick’s property, his brother was standing beside his car. He parked on the road, then got out and lifted his chin in greeting. “Any leads on where they ran off to?”

Carrick came forward and put his hands on his shoulders, making Jamie’s eyes narrow as he met his gaze. “I made it up. I figured it would be better to talk here alone than at Summercrest Manor.”

Jamie thought about pushing away his hands, but he knew his brother’s way of looking him in the eye for answers. “Is this about Sophie?”

“Yes, and you letting her stay at your house. Everyone saw the way you were looking at each other last night. Angie told me to leave things be, but I can’t help myself. God knows how much I’ve worried about you and your love life. Jamie, has Sorcha visited you then?”

He might be able to evade Liam, but he couldn’t do it to his own brother. Especially not concerning Sorcha. “Yes, but I’d like to keep that between us.”

His brother wrapped him in a bear hug and practically lifted him off the ground. “Thank God! Jamie, I couldn’t be happier for you.”

He slapped Carrick on the back before edging away. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s just arrived, and we only have our first date tonight—”

“Tonight!” His brother rocked back on his wellies. “That’s way fast for you, Jamie. Did Sorcha light a fire under you?”

He all but rolled his eyes. “Knowing her and knowing me as you do, what do you think?”

Carrick’s nod was positively punctilious, and Jamie might have laughed if they were on a different topic. Instead, he looked at his watch.

“You lunatic. Sophie invited me to stay for breakfast after I dropped her groceries by this morning, but I left to help you. Now we have almost an hour before the board meeting starts. What in the hell am I supposed to do?”

Carrick had the grace to wince. “Help me with some loose fence posts?”

For that kind of work, he’d need to take off his coat as his body temperature climbed fast. “If I didn’t love you…”

Carrick clapped him on the back. “Given your brotherly affection, can Angie, Emeline, and I expect you to do our shopping for us now that it’s a service you offer?”

He only glared at his brother, who laughed loud enough to prompt a few nearby sheep to dart off at the sudden sound.

“Did you hear that Keegan O’Malley’s decided to go into sheep in addition to cows?” his brother called out, and they launched into the idle chitchat that accompanied such daily labors.

By the time they rolled up to the arts center, Jamie’s hands ached from pounding in the fence posts alongside Carrick. The parking lot was populated with cars, and as they made their way inside, they waved to a few townspeople preparing for the Saturday morning pottery class.

Normally they met in the kitchen area, but today everything was set up in Ellie’s studio on the third floor. Bets was pacing in front of a table covered with coffee cups and a stainless steel coffee thermos while Nicola Donovan laid out pieces of some kind of dessert bread. He imagined Bets was happy to have one of her best friends, another of the famous Lucky Charms, on the board. Nicola was a sound businesswoman, besides. She ran the village’s only bookstore, One More Chapter, which had always boasted a good stack of art books. He’d bought some for his own research.

Eoghan sat beside his son, sipping coffee as Donal texted on his phone. Linc was reading the legal papers from yesterday, the ones the lorry driver had given him before hauling away the mobile home.

Jamie called out a greeting, echoed by his brother, and went over to grab himself a coffee and slice of bread—lemon, he discovered—and sat beside Eoghan, who leaned over and whispered, “My Sandrine tells me you’re taking Sophie out on the town tonight. I couldn’t be happier for you, my boy. Couldn’t be happier.”

Donal clicked his phone shut after muttering an expletive. “Malcolm wants us to come to him. Monday. Ten o’clock. Said he has a family engagement this weekend.”

“Likely story,” Eoghan muttered furiously. “So we’re to drive an hour to see his majesty and kiss his rings. Who’s going?”

“Let’s take a minute,” Linc said, slapping the papers onto the worktable. “I’m still fairly new to town, but this smells like the kind of power play I’ve encountered time and again in my window business. Anyone want to tell me I’m wrong?”

“If only we could dress this up and say differently,” Nicola said, sitting down in one of her black suits she wore working at her bookshop, “but you can’t put lipstick on a pig.”

“You know, I once attended a fair where they tried that,” Linc said with a half smile. “So tell me what I don’t know about Malcolm Coveney.”

“He’s the kind who wears a Crombie coat all the time,” Eoghan began. “If you understand me.”

Linc scowled. “No, I’m not sure I do. Why is a man wearing a British gentleman’s overcoat daily significant?”

---