Page 93 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

He rubbed his jaw, considering. “We’re different men, but I’d say the same things matter to both of us. Our reputation. And protecting those we love. Sometimes we have to fight for them. Number one on your list isn’t going to cut it this time.”

She couldn’t remember the order. “You have a better memory than me. What was number one?”

“Ignore it,” he said harshly. “Ain’t going to get it done here.”

No, it wasn’t, she thought, as she grabbed her things and drove over to Carrick’s west pasture. She spotted them easily, one pounding in the post while the other knelt on the green pasture holding it. Sheep milled about in clusters, and her breath caught as the light suddenly shifted. The western sky seemed to split in two, half of it baby blue while the other half turned dark gray. Rain coming. She would need to talk fast. She’d forgotten her hat.

By the time she parked her Mini Cooper in the turnout and started walking briskly toward the gate to the pasture, the brothers were already walking swiftly in her direction. Carrick was taking out his phone, as if checking for disaster, so she gave them an easy wave as reassurance.

She thought about hopping the fence but didn’t want to get muck on her pants. The gate creaked as she opened it, and knowing how canny sheep could be, she secured the lock.

“You have news?” Carrick called out.

She realized she did, actually. Might as well start with the good stuff. “The ombudsman has suspended Denis indefinitely, and a new officer is coming to us from another county to clean things up.”

Carrick put his hands on his belt and rocked back. “That is good news! Isn’t it, Jamie?”

The man nodded, but Bets thought his color was nearly as gray as the stormy sky.

“Well, I’ll be grabbing a few more posts,” Carrick said after an awkward pause. “Be right back.”

Bets looked at the man she’d known since he was a boy and felt her heart thud. He was hurting. “I can’t imagine how hard things must seem right now.”

He tucked the collar of his jacket up around his ears even though the wind wasn’t too cold. “Something on your mind, Bets?”

So he didn’t want to talk. Well, she couldn’t blame him. “Jamie, we think you should really consider—”

“Stop right now,” he said, holding up a hand like a crosswalk guard. “I already know what you’re going to say, and there’s no point in rehashing it. My mind is made up.”

She crossed her arms, trying to consider what to say next. Jamie was already looking off toward the pasture, his face a set of hard lines. “Will you at least talk to Liam?”

He turned his head and stared at her quietly, like a man who had more than made up his mind. This was Jamie Fitzgerald standing his ground.

“What about Sorcha?” she asked desperately.

“Matchmaking is her way—not this.” He gave her arm a comforting pat as he walked off, likely to gentle his words. “I should help Carrick with those posts. Thanks for coming by.”

She stood there as the sheep mingled about and longed for the scent of oranges.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Ghislaine knew how to keep Sophie busy with interviews.

As she thanked yet another person on social media for their support, she had to admit that she was occupying herself pretty well on her own.

She was avoiding the unpleasantness and focusing on the positives to keep her going. But the bad things were out there, lurking in the shadows.

Her daughter was still away from her, and now that some of the villagers had turned against them, including Greta’s principal, she wasn’t sure when she could bring her back. Her stomach clenched as the bigger question arose. Did shewantto bring her daughter back here? Most of the village supported them, but she wasn’t sure if that was enough.

The school Greta attended was now part of the problem. Even if Jamie cleared the charges leveled at him, they would always be around, wouldn’t they? Would that principal and others of her thinking malign Greta? If Sophie was a devil’s spawn, and Greta her daughter, wouldn’t some think she was as well?

Kids had called Sophie names because of her parents. It didn’t take Aristotelian logic to imagine the possibility.

She leaned back against the couch, her heart pulsing with hurt. Rex barked, signaling Jamie’s return. His brother had been keeping him busy with the sheep, which helped as a distraction and also kept him away from the village. Brady had said he’d love to have him hang out at the Brazen Donkey as barfly, but what good would that do when they were trying to quell talk of Jamie being ‘ruined’? Declan had said he could butcher meat if it would help him feel better, but then he’d have to deal with shoppers, and who wanted that right now?

His steps were heavy as he came inside. The sound of him locking the door was loud to her ears. Before this, he’d never locked it. Before this, she’d never felt unsafe in her own home.

“How was your day,mo chroí?” he asked, kissing her on the top of her head after hanging his jacket on a chair.

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