Song of Erin

by BJ Hoff

  What she could not make Brady understand was that while Gabriel was not a father to her—although in truth he was exactly that to Evie, indeed, the only father the child had ever known—he was much more than a guardian: he was also her closest and dearest friend. It seemed that any attempt she made to defend Gabriel only angered Brady even more.

  She drew in a long breath and turned slightly to check his whereabouts. At that same instant, she realized that he had seen her and was now striding briskly in her direction. Quickly, Roweena turned and began to retrieve her things, intent on avoiding him if at all possible.

  Something akin to sadness clenched her heart with the reminder that the time was almost certainly coming when she would not have to worry about running into Brady, for he would be going away. He had spoken often enough about traveling the country, making his pictures for his job back in America. He had never had any intention of staying in Galway, after all, and by his own admission, he had already lingered longer than he’d planned. Surely his work would soon be finished, and then he would leave.

  But long after Brady Kane had left Galway, she would still be here. She and Evie and Gabriel.

  Gabriel…how often had she secretly wished that he would look at her as Brady did, with gentleness and warm affection? But it was not to be. Even now, after all these years, it seemed that to Gabriel she would always be a child—a somewhat helpless child in need of a protector.

  He had been faithful and diligent in his self-appointed role as her guardian from the time she was a child, and so perhaps it was only natural that in his eyes she had remained a child. It was not what she wanted from him—in truth, she didn’t know exactly what she did want from Gabriel. Perhaps to have him look at her and see her as she really was, rather than as the lost, terrified wee girl he had taken under his care so long ago.

  One thing she did know: She would give much if he would only lose the closed, guarded expression he invariably wore when he was with her.

  At times Roweena almost envied Evie her childishness. With Evie, at least, it seemed that Gabriel could be lighthearted, even playful. But with herself he was all seriousness—kind and even tempered but never carefree, never really open or demonstrative.

  Foolishness! How dare she hope for more than she already had! Hadn’t Gabriel provided her with a good home, a shelter? Hadn’t he taken care of her when she’d been unable to take care of herself? When others had thought her odd or even mad, Gabriel had found value in her. More than likely, he had saved her from certain destruction.

  He had been brother and friend to her, as well as her teacher. It had been Gabriel who taught her to read, to figure, even how to speak, despite her inability to hear sounds. And always, he had tried to instill in her a sense of adequacy and self-worth.

  Gabriel was a good man, a godly man. Of course, he would not conduct himself like other men—he was not like other men. He was…larger. Finer. And she had no right, no right at all, to be longing for anything more than he had already given her. Certainly she had no right to cheat him of the respect to which he was entitled. So if he preferred that she not keep company with Brady Kane, then she would not.

  But obviously there was to be no escaping the American today. By the time she had gathered her baskets and prepared to leave, Brady had almost reached her, his dark gaze locked upon her as if to demand that she acknowledge him.

  Brady’s heartbeat quickened as he increased his stride, determined to make his way to Roweena before she could run from him. He had seen the look in her eyes, the sudden confusion and indecision as she watched him approach. He wouldn’t have been surprised had she tossed her baskets aside and bolted down the quay.

  Gabriel had really done a job with her. For months now, every time Brady had come upon her, she appeared half afraid of him, as if she thought he might attack her like a mad dog in the streets!

  At the back of his mind, the thought occurred to him that it might not be Gabriel’s doing that accounted for Roweena’s behavior. Maybe the bad business with Terese had left her with so much contempt for him that she simply didn’t want anything to do with him.

  Roweena was hard to read, to say the least. Even before all the trouble, he had never quite known what to make of her—her excessive shyness, her furtive looks, her unmistakable devotion to Gabriel.

  When it came right down to it, Brady didn’t know what to make of his own behavior where Roweena was concerned.

  He had never played the fool for a woman before. There had never been any need. Women liked him, and he’d always found it easy to attract those who caught his interest.

  Roweena was attracted to him, too—he was sure of it. In spite of her shyness, those enormous gray eyes of hers held something besides indifference, or he’d be a monkey on the moon.

  But getting her to act on that attraction was another matter entirely. Between Gabriel’s heavy-handed meddling and Roweena’s own reserve, he was beginning to despair of ever managing more than a hasty exchange in the middle of a crowd.

  For the first time he could remember, Brady found himself wanting more than a casual fling, more than just the excitement of a brief affair. He wanted to know this girl, wanted more than a few stolen hours of passion with her. Without understanding why, he found himself wanting to know everything about her: what accounted for the frightened look that sometimes darted across her face, what went on in her silent world, what her dreams were, what made her happy.

  She evoked something in him that no other girl had ever tapped. Sometimes he was almost overcome with the desire to draw that fragile form into his arms, to protect her, to take care of her.

  He was struck by the nasty reminder that Roweena hardly needed him to take care of her, not with the mighty Gabriel breathing over her shoulder with fire in his eye.

  But Gabriel wasn’t here now. And even at this distance, Brady could see Roweena watching him as if there were no one else around. For one breathless moment, he felt as if he would drown in those eyes, and he knew an insane need to somehow capture her so she couldn’t run away from him ever again.

  He was closing in on her, looking neither left nor right, when he slammed into an old woman trying to hoist a sack of potatoes onto her back. Brady hit her hard enough that the potatoes went flying, bumping over the cobbles and scattering everywhere.

  Impatient, Brady muttered an apology and shoved past the woman more roughly than he might have at another time.

  To his surprise, the old biddy caught the hem of his coat, stopping him. She was a good head shorter than Brady and probably didn’t weigh ninety pounds, potatoes and all, but she went at him like a harpy, haranguing him in the Irish, stabbing a gnarled finger in his face with every word. People were staring now, and Brady felt his face heat with anger.

  “I said I was sorry!” he snarled, bending to help scoop up some of her precious potatoes. After a moment, he left the rest to the sour-tempered old woman and took off at a half run, still intent on catching up with Roweena.

  At the edge of the marketplace, Gabriel watched the whole thing. He had been about to go and help Roweena carry her baskets home when he saw the altercation between Brady Kane and Maire Fahy. He continued to watch as the American hurried up to Roweena and took her by the arm.

  Blood rushed to Gabriel’s head, and he took a step in their direction, then stopped. Roweena would not thank him for playing the watchdog in her behalf.

  In truth, he had not come to the market to spy on her but to purchase some fabric and ribbon for both Roweena and Eveleen, so they could sew new dresses for the festival. Happening upon her and the American had been pure coincidence.

  He was close enough to see Roweena’s expression change as Kane stood speaking to her. At first she had appeared uncertain, as if she might have wanted to run from him. Now, however, she was smiling a little.

  Whether the encounter had been accidental or not, she looked as if she were pleased to see the persistent American, Gabriel observed, trying to ignore the ache in his t
hroat.

  Aye, Kane had her attention now. She was watching his lips in an effort to understand his words.

  The temptation to confront them was like a pressing shove at his back. But what end would it serve? What could he do? Accuse them of deception? Chastise Roweena for disobeying his wishes? She was twenty-seven years now, a woman grown. She was no child to be scolded; Kane, no schoolboy to be bullied. He had no right to issue demands to either of them, though he had admittedly done just that with the American rogue.

  With Roweena, he had simply informed her of his wishes, asking her to voluntarily abide by them. But he had no taste for trying to force her to comply. She would be hurt. She would not understand.

  He wasn’t certain he understood. Oh, Kane’s shabby treatment of the Sheridan girl and the shirking of his responsibility were reason enough to want him well away from Roweena. But there was more to his own hostility than that unfortunate affair, Gabriel knew.

  From the beginning, there had been something about the American artist that had set him on edge. He had never quite trusted the young wag. Even though he hadn’t actually disliked Kane, at least not at first, he had invariably felt an uneasiness about him.

  Watching him with Roweena now, he felt it again. Was it merely a measure of reasonable caution—the fear that he would ensnare Roweena, in all her innocence, with his sweet talk and attentions? Kane was young and handsome, after all—the kind who seemed to have no trouble charming women. And there was Roweena, infinitely lovely and completely innocent—good through and through. But oh, so vulnerable, so easy to deceive.

  Another possibility asserted itself on Gabriel’s mind—a vile thought, and one he had shrunk from until now. How much of his distrust and growing dislike for the American was born of his own barely controlled jealousy?

  Jealousy?

  It was an ugly thing to face, but there it was. He had loved her forever, cherished her as he might have a beloved sister when she was but a frightened child under his protection and throughout the years of her growing up.

  But somewhere along those years his love had begun to change, had taken on a different complexion, a depth he’d felt bound to conceal, lest he drive her away from him.

  He had no illusions about what he was to her. Roweena loved him in her own way, he knew. But as a guardian, a surrogate brother, perhaps, who had virtually raised her from a wee wane to womanhood. Her feelings for him were true and strong, feelings of trust and devotion and certainly affection. But hardly the affection of a woman who loves a man.

  No doubt she would be shamed if she were ever to learn that his devotion to her was anything more than the brotherly concern she believed it to be. She might turn against him. She might even leave him.

  And how would she manage then, on her own? How would she survive, alone in her silent world?

  With a heavy sigh, Gabriel watched the two a moment more, the bitter admission of his jealousy a hot, tearing blade ripping through all his preconceived motives and noble intentions. Perhaps it was time he admitted the truth and stopped trying to dance around it, even if the truth made him nearly ill with self-disgust.

  All that aside, he wasn’t yet convinced that jealousy alone accounted for his growing aversion toward Kane. There was something more, something maddeningly elusive, and he knew it would give him no peace until he discovered its nature.

  He resolved to set about doing just that without further delay. He meant to find out exactly who Brady Kane really was and what he was doing in Galway.

  After another moment and one last, hard look at the couple in the marketplace, he turned and walked away.

  6

  UNEASY LIES THE HEART

  The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.

  W. B. YEATS

  Disgruntled by Roweena’s resistance, Brady left the marketplace in a huff. The fact that she wouldn’t so much as take a walk with him foiled any hopes he might have had of breaking down her defenses.

  Given half a chance, he was certain he could bring her around and make her see that he wasn’t the dragon Gabriel had undoubtedly made him out to be. But first he had to figure out a way to get her out from under the big fisherman’s hawk eye for more than a few minutes.

  By the time he left the Claddagh and headed back into the city, he was in a thorough sulk. The day had lost its appeal. He had no interest in doing anything or going anywhere.

  The idea of being trounced by a deaf girl and a surly fisherman who fancied himself some sort of feudal overlord grated on him more than he liked to admit. It occurred to him, though not for long, that the smart thing to do would be to simply give it up. Forget about Roweena, get out of Galway, and get on with the work he was supposed to be doing for Jack.

  No doubt that was what he ought to do, instead of mooning around like a lovesick schoolboy over a girl he’d never so much as kissed…never so much as held hands with!

  Never before had he been in such a state.

  He tried to tell himself it was simply the thrill of the chase, that he wasn’t all that infatuated with her. Hadn’t he always been more interested in the girls who played hard to get?

  But Roweena wasn’t playing games—he doubted very much that she would even know how—and he despised himself for even thinking of her in such a way. The truth was that he had really come to care about her. Even though he’d scarcely seen her for weeks, every effort to put her out of his mind invariably failed. He had feelings for her he couldn’t begin to understand, feelings he found almost frightening. But clearly, she was having no part of him—whether purely by her own choice or because of the cantankerous Gabriel, there was no telling.

  By the time he reached his apartment building, he was fuming: at Gabriel, for the man’s insufferable heavy-handedness; at Roweena, too, for allowing Gabriel to dictate her life as he did; but most of all at himself, for playing such a fool over Terese that he might have spoiled any chance he could have had with Roweena.

  He stamped up the steps, the thought of Terese fueling his anger. It seemed to him that he’d taken all the blame for that to-do, even though he wasn’t convinced that Terese had been entirely innocent. In fact, now that enough time had elapsed for him to gain some perspective, Brady wondered if the girl hadn’t planned to deliberately entrap him.

  She hadn’t exactly made any secret of the fact that she expected some sort of commitment from him once they’d been intimate. A commitment that he had been unwilling to give. When he made it clear that he had no intention of taking her with him on his travels—much less on his return to the States—well, perhaps she’d thought a baby would change his mind.

  He no longer saw her as an innocent, instead was beginning to believe that she might have set out to deliberately seduce him for her own purposes. And a big part of Terese’s purposes, he had always known, was to get to America.

  Ah, well, she was gone and that was that. And they would both be all right, so long as she didn’t do anything to arouse Jack’s suspicions. Brady had sworn her to secrecy, and he didn’t think there was any real need to worry about her slipping up. Terese was too clever to be careless. Still, he’d feel better when he knew for certain that Jack had bought their story.

  Only then would he really breathe easy again.

  With that thought, he put Terese behind him for once and for all, poured himself a drink, and turned to the need at hand, that of deciding what he was going to do. He knew he ought to be leaving Galway soon; it was getting more and more difficult to justify his extended stay to Jack. But every time he thought about leaving, Roweena came to mind, and he found himself delaying once again.

  He knew he had to leave before much longer. Jack wasn’t going to keep up his wages indefinitely, not without getting something for his money. If he began to suspect that Brady was lying to him, he wasn’t past cutting him off cold, with no warning.

  No one bamboozled Jack Kane, not even his brother. A few had tried—and paid a treacherously high price
for it.

  No, he would have to make a move soon, and to that end he needed to be deciding where to go. Up to Westport, perhaps, and then Sligo. But instead of getting out his maps and drawing up an itinerary, he plopped down on the bed with his drink, giving in to an increasingly familiar pall of inertia.

  More and more these days he found himself feeling like a shipwrecked sailor stranded on an island that was quickly being eroded by the sea. He knew he had to get off the island or eventually drown, but because he couldn’t see anything in any direction except more water, he simply continued to sit where he was, watching the waves move in on him.

  Up until now Brady had seldom had any problem making decisions. In fact, Jack had often accused him of making them too easily, too casually, and it was true that he didn’t always trouble himself much about the consequences of his actions. Once he decided on a thing, he simply did it.

  Lately, though, he seemed to haggle over every little thing, changing his mind, then changing it again. Something as basic as choosing the subject for a sketch could bring him to a total halt for hours, until he got so frustrated he would discard the entire idea.

  He didn’t know what was going on, but he did know he’d better be doing something about it or he was going to ruin himself with Jack.

  For the moment, however, he would just have a quick snooze, then get up and go to work. First thing, he’d decide on his next stopover, then set a date to leave.

  Soon, he told himself again. It would have to be very soon.

  Brady’s last thought as he drained the glass of whiskey and finally drifted off to sleep was of stumbling backward in a futile attempt to escape a towering, fast-encroaching wall of water.

  Gabriel waited until the table had been cleared, the dishes put away in the cupboard, before sending Evie out to play and indicating to Roweena that he wished to speak with her.