by Tena Stetler
Bridget blew out a breath and plopped down on a chair. “I’ve been talking with Mary about renting the pub for a Sunday soon.”
“Why?”
“To throw a Cèilidh after Quinn and me tie the knot. Nothing fancy, a party so Ma won’t get her knickers in a knot. But I haven’t told Quinn yet ’cause he’ll blab it all over the County Cork.”
Heavy footsteps sounded as Quinn pushed through the kitchen door a puzzled look on his face. “Tell Quinn what?”
Bridget buried her face in her hands.
Synn turned her back to him to keep him from seeing the grin on her face. Mary calmly said, “We’re going to put you to work behind the bar if things get too busy tonight.”
“Oh no you don’t. If I’m back there you won’t allow me even one pint until the night’s over.” He shook his head vehemently as he backed out the kitchen door. “Hey Gavin, you should keep a better eye on your womenfolk.” His voice faded away as they burst in to gales of laughter.
Wiping her eyes, Bridget said, “You sure knew what to say to send him running.”
“And he’ll never wonder back to that conversation again. So your secret is safe for now. But better make plans sooner than later.”
“I will.” Bridget picked up her towel, tossed it in with the dirty clothes, and grabbed a fresh one. Tying her apron on, she nodded toward the door. “Come on Synn. Customers are trickling in already. Oh, don’t breathe a word of what we were talking about.” Hannah watched the kitchen door swing shut. “Ma, did Quinn ever tell Brig?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“She’s going to marry him without knowing?”
“He can’t let that happen. Either he’ll have to tell her or maybe already has, but I’ll not be asking her.” Mary pointed her finger in Hannah’s face. “And neither will you.”
“Yes, Ma.” Hannah raised her hand in surrender. “But you know the rules, he can’t…”
Synn’s gaze shifted from one person to the other then her brow creased in puzzlement. “Do I want to know?”
“No,” they said in unison.
Tristian swung in through the kitchen door. “Hannah, you ready to go? I’m looking forward to an evening alone in front of the fireplace with my woman.”
“Yep. Ma fixed us a care package for dinner. We’re all set.” Hannah wrapped her arm around Tristian’s waist as he bent down to kiss her.
“Go on the two of you. Get outta here.” Mary grumbled. “Kitchen’s never been this busy even on New Year’s Eve.”
“I heard that.” Hannah paused at the back door. “You wanted your family around you. Careful what you wish for.” She snickered and waggled her finger at her ma.
Tristian grinned but said nothing as they exited and closed the door.
“I better get out there before Bridget skins me alive.” She grabbed her apron and order pad. Tying her apron around her waist, she scooted out the door.
Mary hurried after her and grabbed her apron strings. “Check with Bridget on your schedule. Next week we’re off to Dublin. Don’t want to wait any longer.” At Mary’s yank, Synn’s apron came untied and fell to the ground. Her order pad, cell phone, and pencil skittered across the hardwood floor.
Mary’s hand flew to her mouth in an effort to hide a chuckle. “Sorry about that.”
“Not very convincing.” She gathered up pad, pencil, checked her cell, all seemed to be fine. With a final tug, she tested her apron strings, then shot a glance at Mary. “May I go?”
“Of course. Remember to.”
She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “Ask Bridget about my schedule.” She flounced out into the pub, slapped the bar where Gavin was standing, and grinned. “Don’t be standing around, boyo,” she teased.
Gavin jumped the bar landing in front of her on the balls of his feet. “Mighty cocky, aren’t ya?”
“Maybe, but I know the family and—” She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue to tease him. It seemed like forever since she’d used her womanly wiles. It felt good as the men standing in a group to the side of the bar turned their attention to her. “They’re my friends.” She finished and winked at him.
Gavin leaned back, elbows braced against the bar, and grinned watching her with male appreciation as she negotiated the crowd. Feeling his gaze on her, she turned and put her fingers to her lips, kissed them, and blew him a saucy kiss. The action caused a ripple of wolf whistles from the crowd.
“Gavin, get back behind the bar. There be customers to serve,” Tim scolded, but one corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin.
Vaulting back across the bar without touching it, he turned to face the customers. “What’ll you have?”
A strange face in the crowd answered the question. “I’ll have some of that cute little lass you were toying with.” The burly redheaded man reached out a hand and snagged her around the waist. He slobbered on her cheek attempting a kiss as she carried a tray of drinks through the crowd. She bobbled the tray a little as she swung an arm free in an arc, breaking his hold and sending him howling to the floor. She leaned over him, pasting a puzzled expression on her face. “What happened? Raining outside, huh? Really should wipe your feet before walking on the hardwood floor.” She reached for the man to help him up, but he scurried across the floor like a frightened crab. He hoisted himself up at a nearby table and pointed a finger at her.
“Did you see that,” he said getting in the face of one of the men at the table. “She tried to fry me. She did.”
A stocky, bearded man got up from table where the red-haired man remained. The stocky man took him by the arm and shoved him away from the table. “You’ve too much to drink. Move on. You don’t treat our waitresses like that in Shaughnessy’s. This is a family establishment.”
“It’s a pub. Jackass.”
“I asked nice. Next time…” The stocky, bearded man gave the stranger another little shove.
The stranger turned and swung a right hook at him. The stocky man ducked and rose up under the red-haired stranger and hoisted him over his shoulder. “Be right back. Gotta take the trash out.”
Gavin exchanged glances with his da, then he threw up the pass through and sprinted after the two men who’d now made it outside.
Shrugging, she delivered her tray of drinks and returned to the bar. “He wasn’t a regular. I’ve never seen him in here. Did you?” she whispered to Bridget who was standing at the bar gawking at the scene that had played out.
Bridget shook her head. “Nope. First time I’ve seen him. Didn’t belong to the group of tourists in here earlier either. Sounded like a Scot. Glasgow bur, did you notice?”
“Not really. I was too busy attempting to keep the drinks from spilling.”
“And a good job you did.” Bridget gave her a pat on the back and moved out in the crowd with her tray of pints.
Tim put a hand on her arm. “We don’t need trouble makers in here. Don’t worry about it. But…” He raised an eyebrow.
“Got it. Don’t mess up the customers. I barely touched him.” She shifted away from the bar. “Not much of a man.” She sniffed as her forehead creased in thought. She’d let her temper guide her actions—again. Something Tristian warned her about that could have deadly consequents in battle. I know that. She drew in a breath and searched her mind for his presence. He wasn’t there.
Blowing out a breath, she grinned, relieved. Another lecture from him was not on her agenda. He could be so damned condescending. It raised her ire which she was sure was his intent. She’d beaten his mind games a couple of times and could keep him out of her thoughts—mostly.
She should have had her shielding abilities up. She didn’t. Had that been a test? Had he done that on purpose and would remind her of that failure next time they met. Every time I must remember to check the magic signature or a disguising spell before… He could have— Stamping her foot she whirled around and ran into the broad chest of Gavin. His eyes narrowed, he motioned to the office.
Tim waved a hand to Gav
in, indicating he needed to be behind the bar. Gavin nodded then held up an index finger and escorted her to the office.
“What just happened?” Gavin asked after closing the door.
“He slipped on the floor?” Synn suggested.
Gavin narrowed his eyes at her. “No magic?”
Synn blew out a breath. “Only a little and it was well controlled. Did you notice? No one else did.” She was unable to keep the pride out of her voice.
“This time. All we need is a magic wielder in here, witch, demon, faery, you get the picture. Should they feel your power, read your magic signature and report back to…”
Shoulders slumped as she frowned. “I made sure there was no one with magic abilities in here, cloaked or not. Tristian drilled that into me until it’s second nature.”
“Aye, but it was your temper acting not your head.”
“Got it. Won’t happen again.” Sheesh, he’s as bad as Tristian. She walked toward the door. “If you’re finished, I need to be out on the floor.”
Following her to the door, he reached out and snagged her arm. “Your magic smells a lot different than before. Should we be concerned?”
Her temper flared, but she tamped it down glaring at his hand. He made no effort to remove it. “No. Tristian said that’s to be expected. Next week, he’s going to return the rest of my powers.”
“Provided he determines you can handle it. After tonight, I’m not sure.” He released her arm.
“I had complete control of my magic, even if my temper—and you know it.” She reached for the door handle, turned the knob, and threw open the door. It banged once against the wall before Gavin caught it.
“Aye. Still…”
“I’m fine. Trust me. I got this.” She sashayed down the hallway, stopped, turned toward him, winked, and hurried into the main pub. The rest of the evening passed quickly. When the last customer trudged out the door, she sidled up to Bridget. “Have you got next week’s schedule set up?
“Almost. Looks like Wednesday and Thursday will be your days off. Quinn’s band is booked for both Friday and Saturday. Cori will join them on Saturday. It’ll be a full house.” Bridget grinned.
“You love watching all those women flirt with Quinn. When the night is over, you waltz up to him, stake your claim, and leave a trail of hopeful hearts broken.” She snickered and finished wiping off the bar.
“Not my fault they don’t know better.” Bridget gathered the empty glasses on to a tray and carried them to the bar.
“How are they supposed to know? Don’t have a ring on him.” She went behind the bar and rinsed out the cloth in the sink. Picking up a spray bottle of disinfectant, she walked to the tables.
“Don’t need one. He’s always had eyes for only me. Local gals know it.”
She shook her head. “You are sure of yourself and your man.”
“If I wasn’t, I’d never consider tying myself to him.” Bridget carried the final tray of dirty glasses to the bar where Gavin put them in the washer behind the bar.
“How about we have a girl’s night out—really in—Sunday night. I hear the men are gathering for a poker game at Gavin’s house. You don’t want to be there. We’re not scheduled to work until Monday evening.”
“Sounds great.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ll need it after the weekend.”
“You bet. I’ll bring the wine. Gale will bring the movies. She’s got every chick flick known to woman. Colleen can bring the munchies. Katie will join us if she can. It’ll depend whether or not Sean is going to the card game.”
“What do you want me to bring?”
“Yourself and tales of that hunk you are shacking up with.” Bridget snickered then broke out in gales of laughter.
“How did you know?”
“It’s a small town, hon. Talk about a trail of broken hearts.” Bridget waved her hand at the floor and covered her mouth subduing her laughter.
“It’s only because of a plumbing problem at the cottage. Hannah and Tristian are staying with Mary and Tim. They have a house full. As soon as the cottage is fixed, Storm and I’ll return home.”
“The only problem with the cottage is you’re there and he’s not. You’re in denial, lass.”
Chapter Eighteen
Trip to Dublin Brings Surprising Results
Thursday morning, Synn gave Gavin a light kiss on the cheek before exiting. He stood in the doorway with Storm as she sprinted down the path to the awaiting car. She turned and waved as the driver’s door opened. No sooner had the door to the house closed she heard Storm whining then saw her in the window letting out a mournful howl.
She pulled her coat tightly around her and sprinted toward the car. The green foliage turning yellow on the edges whirled in the north wind making a rustling sound. “I’ll be back soon.” She called to the pup. By the time she reached Mary’s awaiting car, she discovered Tristan holding the back door open for her. She skidded to a halt. “What are you doing here?”
“Good morning to you too.” Tristian’s lips twitched as he raised a brow. “Are you getting in or staying?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
She slid into the back seat next to Mary. “I thought we were going alone.”
“Last minute, Tristian had business in Dublin. He offered to drive us to the city freeing up Da to take care of a few things at the pub and Gavin to watch Storm.” Hannah turned in the front seat to face her and Mary. The trip to Dublin was uneventful. Tristian pulled up in front of the bridal shop with ten minutes to spare before their appointment. “Ladies, give me a call when you are ready to leave.”
“Okay. We’re going to have lunch around the corner. You’re free to join us,” Hannah offered.
“I’ll try, but no guarantees. Not sure how long my meeting will take.” Tristian leaned over, put his arm around his wife’s shoulders drawing her to him, and gave her a long affectionate kiss. “Miss me.”
“Always.” Hannah slid across the seat and got out as Mary exited the backseat.
She climbed out of the car and hesitated a moment letting the sun warm her face. She stepped around a couple of puddles on the sidewalk, glanced up and down the street, then hesitated.
“Don’t even think about it.” Mary reached for her arm. “Brandy is depending on us to help her confirm her wedding gown selection. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Mary pulled the glass door to the shop open and chimes tinkled somewhere in the back. A variety of fragrances whooshed out.
Inside the store she sniffed. Bayberry, peppermint, vanilla, and lavender scents she singled out. A relaxing combination, a good thing for nervous brides and their mothers. Her lips twitched. Why all the fuss over a union of a couple that may or may not last. A waste of time and effort in my opinion.
“Are you coming or going to stand there all day?” Hannah chided her and waved to the woman behind the counter.
“Coming.”
The woman at the counter, smiled. “Shaughnessy party?”
Mary nodded.
The woman held up her finger. “I’ll be right back.” She bustled to the back room. Quick as a wink, she was back with a white garment bag, unzipped it, and held the beautiful gown out for all to see. A white pearl essence shimmered around the dress then faded away. She stared for a moment. Glancing at the other women, she could tell they hadn’t seen it. What was going on here?
Mary touched the fabric, a smile spread across her face. “Me daughter called you?”
“Aye, she did. Right after I disconnected from talking to you. She had a few unusual requests, but I was able to accommodate them.”
Mary raised her eyebrow. “Like what?”
“I’m sorry, not at liberty to say. However, I can tell you, she asked that Synn—” The shopkeeper paused. “Am I pronouncing that correctly?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” she acknowledged. Tilting her head, she sensed an undefined magic element coming from the dress. She reached out, touched a tiny embroidered rose bud, and a fe
eling of calm washed over her. Huh, there’s more here than meets the eye.
“You’re to decide between these three bridesmaid dresses.” She paused again. “Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners? I’m Molly O’Toole. This is my shop.” She held her hand out to each woman. “My clerk failed to show up for work this morning. I’ve fittings, meetings… Oh, but you don’t want to hear—”
The petite woman with silver strands through her dark hair hung the wedding gown on the rack, then disappeared behind a swinging door. Soon she returned with three pristine garment bags. When Molly unzipped the bags, a light blue pearl essence wafted out, floated on the air then disappeared.
Synn glanced around. “Did you see that?” A momentary look of surprise crossed Molly’s face. She quickly schooled her expression to normal.
A perplexed expression crossed Mary and Hannah’s face. “See what dear?” Mary asked.
“The blue glimmer—you didn’t see it.” She rubbed her eyes. There was magic rolling off Molly now too.
Both women shook their heads. “Are you feeling all right? You look a bit pale,” Mary observed.
“I’ll get you a glass of water.” Molly rushed through a curtained doorway and returned with a glass of water. “Here you are.” She smiled and handed her the glass.
“Thank you. I’m fine.” She took the glass and drank deeply trying to figure out what just happened. “Seeing things. Must be sleep deprivation—I guess.” She grinned and concentrated on the three beautiful dresses Molly had displayed on the rack.
She reached out and touched the first emerald green dress. It was soft like silk but with a touch of something stretchy. She rubbed the fabric gently between her thumb and forefinger. Fashioned with one shoulder, the dress was meant to cling to the curves of a woman that wore it.
The next one, baby blue, had a semi-fitted bodice with rosebud embroidery that matched the bridal gown, lace sleeves, and flowed from the waist to the floor in a slight flare.
The last one was in her opinion obnoxious. The bodice was also fitted, lace peeked out along the strapless top, and the skirt flared from the waist reminisces of the ballgowns during the Elizabethan period.