“This is Sean, my intended,” Teagan introduced her groom.
“So glad to meet you, Jill,” Sean said with the most lovely brogue accent that was somewhat hard to decipher, but still enchanting. He gave Jill a hug, nearly squeezing the breath out of her.
“Now, let her go, you big lug,” Teagan said, thumping Sean on the arm. “We’re going to need her tomorrow.” Jill looked at Teagan, not sure what she was talking about, but there wasn’t time to ask, as Tara pulled her away to meet the others. There were cousins and aunts and uncles and friends of the bride and groom milling around the house, eating from the buffet that Bridy had put out for the guests. Jill was a little overwhelmed, but other than wishing that Mary was there with her, she was delighted to be there.
“So you’re Jill,” a large smiling woman said, spinning Jill around and holding her out to get a look at her. “I’m Bridy, Mary’s aunt. So glad you could be here in Mary’s place.”
“Thank you so much for having me,” Jill gushed at her, feeling grateful this friendly woman was being so nice to her. The woman was plump, but attractive. Her reddish brown hair was short, falling in curls at her shoulders. The expression on her face was open and welcoming. It didn’t seem to matter to her that she had never met Jill before. Jill immediately belonged to this family.
“Now, we’ll have to get you fitted for the dress, but you look like you’re about Mary’s size, so it shouldn’t be too bad.” Bridy stood back, appraising Jill.
“The dress?” Jill asked, looking at Tara for help.
Bridy started laughing heartily. Tara had a big grin on her face, too.
“Oh, Mary, Mary.” Bridy said, shaking her head and putting her arm around Jill’s shoulders. “She didn’t bother to mention that she was part of the wedding party, did she?”
“No…”
“And you’ll be needing to stand in for her on Saturday at the wedding.”
“What?” Jill asked, looking from one woman to the other. “Mary didn’t tell me anything about being in the wedding.”
Tara was laughing loudly by now and she stepped forward.
“Don’t worry. I’m in the wedding, too. We’re not major players, no maid of honor or anything, so it’ll be a breeze,” she said
Jill wasn’t sure what to say. Her plan had been to blend in and get lost in this large Irish family, but now she would be in of the center of it all. What the heck, she thought. This was an adventure. Live it up.
“All right, then,” she said, smiling at the two women.
“Get yourself something to eat and drink and we’ll go up and have you try on the dress later,” Bridy said, already turning away to grab another woman passing her. “Shannon, you better stop guzzling that beer; you won’t fit into your dress.”
Tara put her arm around Jill.
“Oh, that Mary. It’ll be fine, though, really. It’ll be fun!” she said, a huge grin plastered on her face. “Let’s party!”
Jill helped herself to some food and a glass of Smithwick’s ale. Tara was caught up in some debate with some of her cousins and Jill found herself wandering through the crowd with her plate and glass. Finding a love seat empty in a corner of the living room, she placed her glass of beer on a side table and sat down, balancing her plate on her lap. She watched the others for a while then looked down to check out the food on her lap. It was good solid food, a slice of roast beef, some boiled and seasoned potatoes and soda bread. She was savoring a bit of the beef, with her eyes closed, when someone sat heavily down next to her, almost knocking her plate off her lap. She opened her eyes with a start and saved her plate before it crashed to the ground.
“Excuse me,” she said irritably to the person who had so rudely plopped down next to her. She shifted to look at the offender and found herself sitting to a large man with mischievous blue eyes and messy too-long dark brown hair. He was handsome and strong and she was immediately attracted to him.
“Oh, you’re the American girl,” he leaned back to consider her, taking a slow look from her head down to her feet. “I figured you’d be a little stick of a gal, but you look pretty healthy to me,” he said, like she was a cow at auction.
Jill raised an eyebrow at him.
“They didn’t say you were a mute.” He shook his head. Taking a piece of soda bread off her plate and popping it into his mouth, he stood and walked away.
Jill sat speechless. What a jerk, she thought as she watched him walk away, her eyes drawn to the slightly baggy butt of his jeans. Jeez, what’s wrong with me? The guy had been rude and all she could think about was how cute his butt was. Yikes.
Tara apparently had been watching the exchange. She walked up to Jill, laughing.
“I see you met Coyle.”
“Is that his name? I thought it might be ‘Evil’,” Jill said, looking back down at her plate.
Tara let a loud snort go. “Oh, he’d love that!” she said, sitting down next to Jill. “Coyle is Teagan’s older brother. He’s actually my favorite cousin.”
Jill turned to look at Tara, pulling her head back in disbelief.
“Why?” she asked incredulously.
Tara continued to laugh, shaking her head as she said, “He’s a hoot! He’s funny and he always spoiled Mary and me when we were kids. Whenever we visited Ireland, he’d take Mary, Teagan, and me all over town, even when he was a teenager and we were just little.”
Jill and Tara looked up to see Coyle talking with some of the other men, throwing his head back with laughter.
“And he was always so very cute,” Tara said softly, gazing at her cousin.
Jill took a good look at him now. Very tall, maybe six-two, broad shouldered, big, but not heavy. Strong. He joked with the other men, and while they were all chuckling at something funny he had said, he glanced in the direction of the two women, catching Jill watching him. She quickly looked away, feeling herself blush. Good god. I’m acting like a schoolgirl. I don’t even like the guy. She stole another look at Coyle, but his attention was back with the men.
Tara smacked her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get drunk… They’re going to expect us to act like ladies tomorrow, so we better get wild tonight.” She said, standing up, pulling Jill off the love seat and dragging her past the group of men and into the kitchen. Jill wanted to look up as she passed Coyle, but she didn’t let herself.
Before long, she and Tara were sitting with a bunch of raucous men and women in the kitchen. Everyone was telling funny stories and laughing uproariously. Someone kept filling Jill’s pint glass with beer and she kept drinking it. Tara was keeping up with her, as well. At one point, someone pulled out a fiddle and started playing. Normally Jill would have never sung in public, even with her training, but she had learned some of the songs the fiddler was playing from the CDs she had bought in Powerscourt and the beer made her less conscious of herself. She sang along with the group, blending beautifully with some of the other women.
Jill sang her heart out. She hadn’t felt this happy, this carefree, in years. Her love of singing hadn’t had an outlet like this, ever. It was incredibly freeing. She closed her eyes and let the music flow out of her heart.
Suddenly, Jill realized she was the only one singing. Her eyes flew open and she stopped, looking around at everyone looking at her. They were all smiling and friendly. Jill blushed, looking down at her hands in her lap. The fiddler stopped playing, too.
One sweet looking woman leaned over and put her hand on Jill’s hands.
“Please, keep singing. You have the most beautiful voice,” she said. Jill looked up at her and at everyone in the room. They all murmured their agreement.
“I, um, I can’t…” she stammered.
Tara threw her arm around Jill. “Come on, Jilly, you’re terrific!”
The fiddler started playing again, and everyone urged her to sing. So she did. It was the most wonderful night Jill could remember for a very long time.
The merriment lasted well into the night. Jill and Tara fo
und themselves reclining on an over-stuffed couch with Teagan, who was telling them all about how she had met Sean when she went to sell a horse up in Shannon. Bridy came through and told them it was time to wrap up the party; they had plenty to do the next day and everyone needed some sleep. Tara and Jill stood up to go and it was obvious to both of them that neither of them could drive. Tara asked her aunt for the number of a cab service that could take them back to the hotel.
“I’ll take them,” a male voice said from behind them. The women turned to find Coyle smiling down at them.
“And are you able to drive, then, Coyle?” his mother asked.
“Yes, mum, I’m fine. I quit long before these girls did, the little lushes.”
Jill and Tara started giggling like girls, finding Coyle very amusing.
“Come on, women. Let’s get you back to the hotel.” He looked at his mother. “I’m going to go ahead and check in myself and stay at the hotel, if you don’t mind.”
“Mind that there will be one less pair of muddy boots stomping around my house? No, of course not!” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss her son, who leaned down to accommodate his mother’s affection. “See you tomorrow – all of you,” she said, looking pointedly at the two women, who had already moved towards the door. “At five for the rehearsal, don’t forget. And Jill, I’ll bring the dress out, so plan on seeing me at three, so we can fit it for you.”
The women giggled their agreements and Coyle herded them out to his car, a small BMW.
“And he has a nice car,” Jill offered to Tara. “Not bad.”
“Come on, girls, get in the car,” Coyle said, opening the passenger door. Jill hurried past Tara to get in the back seat. Tara didn’t argue and slumped down into the comfortable front seat.
It wasn’t a long drive and soon Coyle pulled into the parking lot at the Muckross House. Tara had fallen asleep, so he had to come around to the passenger door and open it, then gently shook her awake.
“We’re here, sleeping beauty.”
Tara woke and groggily got out of the car. She immediately started walking up to the main door, not waiting for Jill or Coyle. Coyle offered his hand to Jill as she struggled to get out of the small back seat of the car. She hesitated to take it, but decided she was not going to be able to get out on her own in her current state.
As she got out of the car, she found herself standing very close to Coyle. She could smell his faint cologne and a light whiff of beer. He was radiating warmth and even after she was out of the car, he held onto her hand. Jill blushed and gently pulled her hand from his.
“Thank you,” she said, moving around him.
“Let me walk you girls to your rooms.”
Tara had already disappeared into the main doors of the hotel.
“You really don’t need to,” Jill said, as she continued to the door.
“What’s your room number?” Coyle asked.
“None of your business.” She glared at him suspiciously.
“Do you remember what it is?” he asked, a slight smile sneaking onto his face.
She stopped walking and tried to remember what it was. She couldn’t and so she slowly turned back to Coyle. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have a key?”
“Yes, of course, I do, but it doesn’t have the room number on it. It’s one of those credit card types,” she said, now rummaging around in her purse. “Here it is!” She pulled it out in victory.
“Great,” he said, snapping the card out of her hand and proceeding past her to the main doors of the hotel.
“Hey!” Jill cried, running after Coyle. She’d nearly caught up to him, when she stumbled and reached out to grab the back of his shirt to keep from falling.
Jill righted herself as he turned and held her up by her shoulders. She looked up, way up. Coyle was looking down at her with a slight smirk on his face. God, he smells good. She just stood there looking at him.
Finally, he turned her towards the door, giving her a gentle push.
After stopping at the front desk to be reminded of her room number, they set off to find her room.
“I can find it now,” she said, “now that I have the room number.”
“Ah, so which way would it be,” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway they were in.
Jill looked down the hall. She turned and looked down the opposite way. It all looked the same and totally unfamiliar to her. She obviously didn’t pay attention when she checked in.
“Tara must have found her room…” she said lamely.
“Come on, let me help you. I won’t bite.” Coyle smiled seductively at her.
Jill had to laugh at him, despite the fact that he was annoying the hell out of her.
“Fine. Lead me to my room.”
He took her by the elbow and she didn’t resist. Leading her down the hallway, she was very aware of him being so close to her. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a door and kept hold of her arm to keep her from going on.
“Here it is.” Coyle used the key card in the slot near the doorknob. There was a clicking noise and a little light flashed green. He quickly turned the knob and the door opened. He stood in the doorway, holding out the key card. She squeezed by him, grabbing the card as she went by.
“Thank you,” she said primly.
Coyle caught her arm as she went by, trapping her in the doorway, forcing her stand close to him again.
“No, thank you.” He laughed, then released her, allowing her to continue into the room.
Jill turned to look at him in the doorway. Cute man, very cute man. But she knew she’d had too much to drink and any kind of encounter might be a bad idea. Still…
“You can come –“ she started to say.
“Goodnight, Jilly,” he said and shut the door, leaving her standing alone with her near invitation hanging there in the air.
Slightly embarrassed, Jill tiredly put on her pajamas and crawled into bed. At least she didn’t have to get up to early.
Chapter 12
Jill awoke to the phone ringing. She glanced at the alarm clock. Nine in the morning. She fumbled for the phone sitting on the nightstand.
“Hello?” Her voice was a little raspy from the beer and the singing the night before.
“Hello, Jilly,” a man’s voice surprised her. She’d assumed it would be Tara or maybe Bridy. Instead, she realized it was Coyle.
“Oh, it’s you,” she answered, surly.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess. I just woke up.”
He laughed. “No surprise there. How did you sleep?”
Jill wondered why he was calling. Surely it wasn’t to poll her about how she was feeling.
“Fine. Actually, really well.” She sat up in bed, expecting her head to pound. Instead, she just felt very hungry.
“Come riding with me.”
“I’m sorry…” she trailed off, not sure what he was asking.
“Horses. Come ride with me. On horses.”
“Horses? I don’t know—”
Coyle interrupted her. “Nothing to know. Just get on and ride.”
Jill laughed a nervous little laugh. “I’m not so sure. What about Tara? Can’t she go with you?”
“Tara is too hung over and I rarely get to ride anymore. Please do me this favor. I promise that we’ll get a nice gentle horse for you to ride,” he nearly pled with her.
Jill found him quite enduring, wondering where this version of the man was last night.
“Well, okay. Where do we have to go?”
“They have a stable right here at Muckross. Get dressed and I’ll come by in about twenty minutes to get you.”
“I think I need to eat first,” she said, her stomach feeling a bit queasy from hunger.
“I’ll take care of that, too,” he said and hung up on her.
Jill stared at the phone. Men kept hanging up on her.
Coyle did as he said he would; he appeared at her door twenty m
inutes later. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, holding a caramel colored sweater in his hands.
“It’s a bit breezy out. You might want a sweater or something,” he said as he stood in the doorway.
Jill too was wearing jeans and a white button down shirt. She pulled on a pale blue cardigan. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She looked ten years younger than she was.
Without looking at Coyle too much, Jill grabbed the small backpack that she’d brought along to Ireland for when she was sight-seeing. It worked well as a purse when a real purse would have been too cumbersome. She gave the room a once over and then sidled by Coyle into the hallway. He didn’t move an inch to let her by, so she literally had to rub up against him to get by. She grimaced. She couldn’t figure this man out. One minute he was totally sweet, the next rude.
Coyle shut the door to her room, then without speaking led her downstairs and out the main door. His BMW was parked nearby, but he started walking in the opposite direction, towards a small building set off to the side of the main house. Jill stumbled after him, confused.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Horse back riding,” he answered, not looking back at her.
“I know that. Where are we going right now?”
Coyle didn’t answer. By then they had reached the small building. Coyle stepped around the corner, Jill trailing after him. There, leaning against the wall of the building, were two bicycles.
“You can ride a bicycle, can’t you?” he asked as he rolled one of the bikes over to her.
“Sure.” Jill couldn’t remember the last time she had ridden a bike. It must have been when the kids were little. She laughed at the memory of Ryan and Martie learning to ride. They both received bikes at Christmas one year, one red and blue and the other one a bright yellow. Martie had jumped right on hers, determined to ride it immediately, which she did. Ryan, on the other hand, attempted to ride it that Christmas for his parents’ sake. His bike sat dormant for months while Martie was tooling around with hers nearly every day. One day Ryan saw one of his friends riding a bike to school and suddenly he was motivated to learn to ride.
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