“Good,” Pippa said, sounding relieved. “That’s really good. If there’s anything I can do—”
“I will let you know,” Seth said.
Silence fell again, and just as Pippa turned to retrieve the purse she’d left leaning against the folding chair, Seth heard himself blurt out, “Have you given my proposition any thought?”
Clearly surprised, Pippa turned to him and let out a little laugh. “I thought I made my answer to that pretty clear on the porch steps last night.”
Now it was his turn to look surprised. “I hadn’t heard from you today, so I wasn’t sure if you’d had second thoughts. Bailey hasn’t said a word to anyone, by the way. She texted me this morning to make sure I knew the secret was safe with her.”
Pippa rolled her eyes, but her smile was filled with affection. “I wonder how much she heard.”
“Hard to tell,” Seth said, “but she seemed pretty happy with the end result.”
Pippa frowned. “I didn’t think about—isn’t it wrong, letting her think we’re . . . you know?”
“She’s been raised with barn animals. I don’t think she’s squeamish at the idea that we might be having—”
“I didn’t mean that!” Pippa laughed, looking a bit shocked. “She’s ten.”
“She’s helped birth more goats than the average midwife.”
Pippa covered her eyes. “Aye, and I could have done without knowin’ that, couldn’t I?”
Seth grinned. He liked it when she went full Irish. “Aye, that I do,” he said, his own brogue fairly dead-on, given his grandparents had been straight over from the old country.
“What I meant,” Pippa said, “is that it’s not fair to let her think we’re happily involved, then I take off and—” She lifted a shoulder. “I mean, I know it’s not her heartbreak, it would be mine, but she’s still a young, impressionable girl and ... I hate to set her up to be sad. It’s wrong.”
Seth nodded. “That’s true.” He closed the distance between them, lifted Pippa’s chin with his fingertips. Her beautiful blue eyes were swimming with emotion again, but he wasn’t sure he fully understood the source. Only one way to find out. He had been bold enough talking about how Will should face his fears; the least he could do was man up and tackle his own. “Would it be a heartbreak? For you?” he asked, his voice barely above a rumble.
Her bottom lip quivered, just the tiniest bit, and he was rubbing the pad of his thumb over it, soothing it, before he could think on the wisdom of his action.
She searched his gaze, then whispered, “Would it be for you?”
It was a pivotal moment. He could feel it like a gravitational surge, rooting him to the spot, wrenching her question into tight focus. There was no backing down now, no big, elaborate plans meant to save them from themselves. Just this moment. And this woman, asking him for his honest response. “I think it will be, aye,” he said, the brogue gruff, as was his voice.
“Me too,” she whispered, then made a sound like a half laugh, half sob. “We’re so hopelessly bad at this staying apart thing. And I’ll be honest, Seth, I don’t want to pretend to be with you.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and held his gaze as directly as she ever had. “I want to truly be with you,” she said simply, and yet so boldly. So bravely. “Whatever that means, wherever it goes.”
Chapter Thirteen
She was standing in a classroom, surrounded by music stands, folding chairs, and a small, makeshift stage. But Pippa might as well have been standing on the edge of a cliff, with one foot slipping perilously close to the edge. Her heart was thundering that hard.
“And when you leave?” he asked, his eyes dark with the kind of want that made her toes curl inside her boots and every pleasure point in her body tighten to the point of pain.
“Then we’ll either come up with a plan . . . or we’ll be idiots and say our good-byes, deserving whatever heartbreak we get.”
He surprised her by smiling. “You Irish are a rather maudlin lot.”
She let out a watery laugh. “For all we know, we’ll have parted ways long before I hie myself out of here. It’s quite possible we’ll wonder what on earth we were thinking, getting tangled up with one another.”
“Speak for yerself, lass,” he said, then pulled her into his arms, folding her up close as he tipped her head back and closed his mouth over hers as surely, as rightly, as any man ever could.
It was as romantic as any windswept romance she’d ever read, and everything she’d wanted him to do that day standing beside Big Stone Creek. They’d wasted so much time. With that thought, she gripped his shoulders and gave herself fully to his kiss.
This wasn’t the teasing exploration of their sunset dance on the porch, nor was it the emotional, exhaustion-fueled tempest that had erupted the day of Mabry’s accident. This was the pure, unvarnished mating of two souls with like wants, like desires, absolutely intent on letting things progress as they would. No more caution flags, no more wondering what he meant, or she wanted. This felt like ... well, like a proper beginning.
“One of these days, I’m going to kiss you somewhere private,” he said, as he finally lifted his head.
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Promises, promises.”
When he realized the double entendre, he laughed and this time he kissed her hard and fast. “Yes, well,” he said, dropping another kiss on the corner of her mouth, then moving along her chin, then nipping the curve of her neck. “That, too.”
She shivered in utter delight. “It’s good to have goals,” she said, then let out a little squeal of laughter when he scooped her up as if planning to carry her off right then and there. “I’m sure you’ve something important you should be doing,” she said, giggling and swatting at his shoulders.
He let her feet slide back to the floor, but held her against him a moment longer. “I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather be doing at the moment. Well ... maybe one thing.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said, playing prim to his bold, then giggling when he just winked. “Perhaps a nice meal, a little conversation, a dance or two. I’ve been wanting to try Bo’s. Bailey keeps raving about the breakfasts she and Sawyer have there.”
His grin went from bold to full-on Viking. “Breakfast it is then.” He started to scoop her up again, but she laughed and batted his shoulders.
“Quite sure of yourself, aren’t you then?” she teased. “I’ll have you know I’m not a breakfast-on-the-first-date kind of girl, Mr. Brogan.”
“I’m not sure of much,” he told her, still smiling, but with a serious note in his gaze as well. “But I’m certain I’ll be wanting to share as many meals with you as you’ll allow me to.”
Her heart simply melted. Every time she thought he’d tease her, he’d go the other way and say something unbearably sweet. “Why don’t we begin with dinner. Tomorrow evening, perhaps?” she asked. “If Bo’s suits you, that would serve the purpose of putting the town on notice that we’ve succumbed to their demands and have forced ourselves to pursue this romance they all seem so certain we should be having.”
“Well, when you put it like that, how’s a bloke to resist?”
She reached up on her toes and brushed a kiss against his mouth. “It’s a date, then.” She smiled up into his face. “I rather like the man bun on you, by the way.”
She was charmed further when she saw a bit of heat climb into his cheeks. Surely, given his looks, and his stature, he’d had women tossing much more lascivious comments his way. It made teasing him that much more fun. “Although, to be honest, it makes me want to reach up and yank it all down again.”
He reached out and tugged at the end of one of the braided ponytails she’d taken to wearing back when she was out in his barn every day. “Well,” he said, the corner of his mouth curved in a wry grin, “if dinner goes well, maybe we’ll both let our hair down. I’ll do yours if you’ll do mine.” He gave an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle that made her laugh all over again.
A buz
zing sound went off in his pocket and he abruptly pulled his cell phone out, then swore under his breath. He punched the button to answer it. “Mr. Denton, I’m sorry. I got unavoidably detained. A friend in need. I’m on my way. I appreciate your patience.” He hung up. “Meeting with my potential distributor. I was on my way there when the whole Will thing blew up.”
“Go, go,” she urged him. “We’ll talk later.”
Nodding, he pocketed his phone and started for the door. “Sorry to ravish you and run,” he said with a grin and a wink, then crossed the room right back to her, framed her face in his broad hands, and kissed her so tenderly, it made her eyes sting. He made her feel desirable just by looking at her. This, however, was what she thought it might feel like to be loved.
“Thank you for being the brave one,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “I’ll try to live up to your example from now on.” He flashed a smile. “But feel free to give me a swift kick if I don’t.” He was gone before she could reply.
* * *
Pippa had been pacing the main room of her cabin for so long she was surprised she hadn’t worn a track in it. It would be easy to be all unicorns and moonbeams over the new turn of events between her and Seth, and to be truthful, she was tempted to smile like a loon, dance a little jig, and revel in the thrill of it all. She wanted to endlessly replay every touch, every kiss, every word, to the exclusion of all else. At least until it was time to see him again, and add new memories to the loop.
And she’d done that pretty much nonstop since she’d left the mill the day before. But now it was a brand-new day, and her thoughts were once again on Jake, and on Will. The excitement, the anticipation, along with the attendant nervousness she felt about seeing Seth again that evening for their first real date, was outweighed at the moment by her concern for a sweet boy and his anguished father. She wanted to do something to help, but everything she came up with held the risk of doing more harm than good. Based on what Will had said, it seemed to her that she had been a large part of the catalyst that had sent him barging into that music room.
She kept replaying that emotion-choked confession he’d started to make, and was fairly sure what he’d meant was that she, Pippa MacMillan, sounded, to him, a lot like his late wife. It had been wrenching to hear that note of raw pain in his voice, and know there was nothing she could do to change the memories her singing apparently brought to the surface.
And yet, on the other hand, Jake had told her that Will listened to her music, that her songs, her fiddle playing, were the only folk music he listened to. She realized now why he did so, but it begged the question, why would Will bludgeon himself like that? And that spurred her to wonder, if she could be the catalyst for painful memories, then couldn’t she also potentially be the catalyst for helping Will get himself to a place where he could begin to deal with the tragic loss he’d suffered?
Pippa couldn’t imagine that if Will was thinking clearly, he’d want to block his son from pursuing a connection to his late mum. That said, she felt awful that she’d somehow been complicit in helping Jake do an end run around his father’s wishes. She should have noticed something wasn’t right, but she’d been so busy trying to sort out how to get Jake the lessons he needed, without having to explain why she wasn’t willing to instruct him herself, she’d chalked up his nerves to the kind you get anytime you try something new. So, that much was on her.
Thank you for being the brave one.
“If you only knew,” she muttered, as Seth’s words echoed through her mind yet again. She’d put herself out there first, said the words first, and it had been terrifying, yes, but at the same time, not. The kiss they’d shared on the steps of her cabin had certainly gone a very long way to putting to rest any remaining questions she had. So she wasn’t sure how brave she’d been, really. But he thought she had been, which meant he might not have been able to make the same leap, had it been left solely up to him.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as the lightbulb moment came to her. By putting herself out there first, she’d helped Seth to get to the place he already wanted to be. Maybe she could find a way to do the same for Will. “But how?” she murmured.
She continued her pacing. Surely Will didn’t want to be conflicted and raw over his wife’s passing for the rest of his life. It had already been a long time, perhaps a decade or more, because Jake was thirteen and had been so young at the time he couldn’t recall his mum at all. And in all that time, Will truly hadn’t moved on. And as she knew all too well, the deeper you went down that well of fear and despair, the harder and harder it became to climb back out of it. But he would want to, wouldn’t he, if he could find a way?
She stopped and sank down on the couch. “Maybe he’ll never do it for himself,” she murmured. So, who else does he care about more than himself? “Jake,” she whispered.
If Will was going to heal himself for his own well-being, he would have done so by now. When Jake was little, Will could control the narrative for his son, too, keep his pain tucked away, unaddressed. “But now Jake is a young man, and he’s only going to grow more independent,” Pippa pondered out loud. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her curled fingers, then closed her eyes and tried to think. What would open Will’s eyes so he could see that his son needs his father more than his father needs to cling to his pain?
Her eyes blinked open. She simply didn’t know.
She flopped back on the couch and blew out a long breath. Maybe it wasn’t her problem to solve. “And maybe you need to let Will’s problem go and work on solving your own.” Was that what she was doing? Focusing on Will’s problem, and Jake’s problem, so she could put off dealing with her own? “Probably,” she said dryly, then grabbed a pillow and put it over her face, wanting to vent her frustration into it with a nice, healthy scream. And not daring. She slapped the pillow down in her lap. “Exactly. Who’s the coward now?”
Wait. Wait just a minute.
She sat forward on the couch, clutching the pillow against her stomach, her mind racing as the solution started to tumble into place. Her smile came slowly, and was in no way confidant; in fact there was a growing knot in her stomach that wasn’t so much excitement as a big ball of dread. The only way for her to help Jake was to put herself in Will’s shoes. To ask no more of him than she was willing to ask of herself.
Yes, that’s it. That is exactly it! That she finally had a solution, one that would help both her and Will, made her grin. It also made her want to throw up.
* * *
A half hour later Pippa was at the hospital, sitting by Mabry’s bedside. He and Addie Pearl had been in Blue Hollow Falls longer than anyone she personally knew. Addie Pearl was next on her list.
“Aren’t you a pretty sight for sore eyes,” Mabry told her when she’d entered the room moments ago.
Pippa had taken a seat in the chair next to the bed, and scooted it a bit closer when Mabry held out his hand to her. She held it between her own, surprised to find it warm and strong, and not cold and frail, as its pale, bony appearance had led her to think it would be.
Mabry squeezed her fingers. “How are things up at the farm?” he asked her. “Maggie won’t tell me the truth, of course. She’s afraid the stress of any bad news will slow down my recovery.”
Pippa smiled. “To hear the nurses tell it, they’re having to strap you to this bed to keep you from trying to do too much, too soon.”
Mabry made a sour face. “These dang fool bed exercises—horizontal physical therapy, they call it or some such—aren’t getting me on my feet again.”
“You have to let things heal before you start dancing a jig,” she told him.
“My bones are past eight decades old; how long could they take to heal? Can’t be much left to them at this point.” He held out his arms. “Dang hospital food has whittled me down to nothing, so it’s not like they have to support much.”
Pippa tried not to laugh at that. Mabry did look pale, and
much older than he had before the accident. He definitely was thinner, too. But his old eyes were on fire as he spoke, his voice was back to being steady, and his mind was as sharp as ever, which counted for far more in her book. “As I understand it, the nurses have confiscated more contraband food from this room than any other on this floor.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Pretty much every one of those occasions has happened right after the twins come to visit. What a coincidence.” She smiled. “There’s talk of strip searches the next time they arrive. Does their mum know about this?”
“It turns out their mother, my sainted only daughter, has been turned to the dark side by those same nurses,” he grumbled. “Co-conspirators, all. My grandsons are my only hope at this point.”
Pippa did laugh then. “And here I thought you were the favorite patient here,” she said.
“Yes, well, I think I’ve long since worn out my welcome. You’d think they’d conspire to get me out of this joint, not keep me in.”
“I think that’s the end goal for everyone,” Pippa said, gently squeezing the back of his hand. “We all want to see you back on the farm, but the best thing is to do what they say, so you get the full benefit of the recovery. Rushing any part of it might compromise you down the road.”
Mabry let out a dry cackle at that. “I don’t think I’ve much road left to travel, if you get my meaning. I’m wasting a good chunk of it stuck in this bed.”
Pippa just squeezed his hand again and smiled. “Well, if being ornery will get you anywhere, I’d say you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
That had him lifting his eyebrows and letting out a raspy hoot. “I’d forgotten why I like you so much. Now I recall.”
Pippa laughed. “Good to hear.”
“So perhaps those memories I’ve been having about you badgering me, none too politely I might add, while I had a jack shaft sticking out of my leg, weren’t hallucinations either?”
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