Wait for the Wind

Home > Romance > Wait for the Wind > Page 3
Wait for the Wind Page 3

by Brynna Curry


  Jack had settled in well with the rest of their family, but he was a man used to his own space. He needed an office, or so he and Skye had told Liv. The new room was a huge nursery, but she wasn’t supposed to know about that yet.

  Skye had never seen a man as big a fool over a baby as Jackson Roarke. He scowled down at the brush. The sun was getting low in the sky. Soon the light would be gone and he’d need to be down at the pub. His sainted mother’s doing, of course.

  “Mr. O’Malley isn’t doing well. Mary Katherine has ordered him to take things easy. Who will they find to help run the pub I wonder? Maggie is overwrought what with taking care of her husband. Rhiannon can’t do it alone, though she is a bright, hardworking girl. Her mother’s such a dear friend to me. She did so much for me after your father died.”

  Skye grumbled at the memory. His mother was a champion at laying on the guilt trips. He gathered his canvas, easel and paintbrushes and carried them inside the house. How long had he been sitting outside staring at the sea? An hour? Three? He couldn’t remember what time he’d gone out, but a quick glance at his watch told him Rhiannon would be calling soon reminding him he’d promised to take the afternoon shift for Mrs. O’Malley.

  He didn’t mind lending a friendly hand at the pub, whether it was carrying drinks or manning the kitchen. The extra money was nice, but unnecessary. Only once had he tried to refuse pay. Rhia had escorted him out of the place stating she didn’t need charity. If he was of a mind to work, she’d sign his check just like everyone else. He hadn’t argued with her after that. She was so proud, so stubborn. Was it a sin to need help? To take it when offered as long as she was working just as hard to help herself? Rhia just didn’t see the matter that way. So, he banked the extra money in a savings account for his soon-to-be-born niece. He made more than he needed with his paintings and sculptures. That was, when he could actually paint something. Not like today. And days like today were more common of late. The visions were stronger than ever before. So was his second sight.

  Since her father had been steadily getting weaker, Rhia had taken over more of the family business. She spent most of her time there now. He wondered how long it would be before she moved into the little apartment above the kitchen.

  The telephone shrilled on the hook. Drying his hands on a dish towel as he went, Skye lifted the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “I’ve a great many hungry customers. What I don’t have is a cook. It’s after five. You promised me this evening’s shift.”

  Hell. It was later than he’d thought. “I lost track of time, Rhia. I’m sorry.”

  “Your apologies won’t feed my customers. Will you be coming in, or do I need to call back Ma?”

  Skye closed his eyes. He could almost see her tapping her foot behind the old mahogany bar, one hand resting on a lusciously curved hip. Just because he was dating Meagan didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed what a lovely woman Rhia had grown into.

  “Twenty minutes, darling.”

  “I’m no one’s darling, certainly not yours. I can’t be stopping constantly to remind you to come to work. You’ve a mama for that, and an alarm clock. Set it next time.”

  Skye smiled, wishing he could see Rhia in person just then. She was a pretty thing in any case. Not classically beautiful, but soft of face. Getting riled up changed her appearance. Her eyes would grow hot, making the green seem neon bright, her skin would flush and she’d look as if she were– Not that he’d know about that, since he’d–

  “Are you even listening to me?” Her voice chimed into his thoughts.

  “Yes. It won’t happen again.”

  Her frustrated sigh sounded in his ear. “Pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Ah, but that’s where I like it, so much fun to be had there. Join me in my naughty little world, Rhiannon. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

  He heard her smoky laugh, so subtle it was barely there.

  “You need a keeper.”

  “Volunteering for the position?”

  “No. Go to hell, but come to work first.” She hung up on him.

  Rhia was still too much a girl to run a business, barely twenty-six. He’d worked for her and around her for months now. A genius at running the bar and the books, she did all the ordering, stocking, and watched the barmaids like a mother hawk. All he ever need do was cook and help with drinks if she called for him.

  Gathering up the blank canvas and easel, Skye took them into his studio. As he stored them, he felt a sudden wrenching sadness. His chest hurt with a pain that wouldn’t ease. It tore at his soul and brought tears to his eyes. The feeling, the emotion, wasn’t his. He heard a deep sobbing on the wind, calling out for someone or something to ease the ache.

  He went to the window and looked out toward Liv’s, thinking his sister might be in trouble, but what he saw surprised him. On a small spot of shore he’d never noticed before sat Kate. Her pain was so tangible that Skye had picked it up with his empathic gifts. Immediately he rushed down the path from his house to Liv’s. The only way to stop his suffering was to ease hers.

  * * * *

  Kate topped the rise. She was acutely aware of Ryan’s eyes watching her every step. She hoped she’d given him something to think about, but she had ripped open her soul to do it. No one would see her if she ran it out, cried through the pain.

  Her tears streamed like rivers now. Shoes pounded through the grass still soggy from this morning’s rain. Each step became harder to take until it felt like her memories and life itself were holding her back. She ran headfirst into an unyielding form and looked up into lightning blue eyes.

  “Now then, Katie, my girl, what’s got you so blue?”

  Skye. She could trust him. “Your brother is the champion of all jackasses.”

  “Ah, well. I’ve known him to be no different. Here, now.” Skye plopped down in the grass and patted a spot beside him.

  Kate sat down, letting him fold her into his shoulder while she cried.

  “Why do you hurt so badly? It’s killing you, not to mention what it’s doing to me.”

  Skye was as much a brother to her as Liv was a sister. She’d spent more time at their home than hers growing up. His empathic gifts had made it easy to confide in him then. Why should now be any different? “Ryan is home. We had words over the baby.”

  “Allie?”

  “No. He didn’t give me the chance to say anything about her. Allie was a twin, Skye. I miscarried the other child.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “No one does except Molly, and now you.”

  “He can’t blame you for that, Kate.”

  “He’s thought all these years I had an abortion. He believes I killed our baby.”

  “You wouldn’t. You are the most loving, honest person I know.” Skye waggled his eyebrows at her. “You’re the reason my quest for a wife will never be complete. I strive to find a woman like you.”

  His huge grin made her giggle.

  “Oh, you’re awful.” Kate laughed and her heartache eased a little.

  “Yes. I am. So what did happen? You can trust me with it.”

  Kate took a deep breath. “My father beat the hell out of me. I came home from a date with Ryan with an engagement ring on my finger. He was drunk. I was leaving, packing up my things when he came into my room. I was so scared and he saw me cover my stomach. He hit me there, Skye. Broke one of my hands because I was trying to protect my baby.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Skye tightened his arms around her. It helped knowing he cried with her.

  “I felt something tear inside. I knew I was bleeding, that I would lose the baby. I tried to fight him. I kicked him, hit him with my broken hand, but it didn’t stop him from raping me.”

  “God. Kate. Why didn’t Ryan kill the bastard?”

  “When Mick passed out, I crawled off the bed and out the window. God, it hurt to move, just to breathe. I thought maybe if I could get help, I could still sa
ve the baby. Ryan’s house–well, your house now–was closest. I was so weak, hurt. I didn’t want to tell anyone what horror I’d gone through, I just wanted the baby to live. I made it halfway there. Molly found me. She was too late to save the baby.”

  * * * *

  “Ma knew, all this time.” And she’d kept it a secret from all of them.

  “She took care of me. It was three days before I was strong enough to go see Ryan. I felt like I’d failed him. When I told him there was no baby, he told me he never wanted to see me again. A week later, he’d sold his house to you and left for the US.”

  “Yeah. We wanted to keep Ryan’s house in the family because it had belonged to Da’s brother who had willed it to Ryan. He needed money to leave, so Ma and I bought it from him.”

  “Anyway, today was the first time I have seen him in almost thirteen years.” Kate rose to her feet and dusted off, then offered a hand to him.

  Skye caught it and pulled himself up as well.

  “I have to get back. Allaina will be home soon, and I have a patient scheduled.”

  “I’ll walk with you. I’m on my way to work.” Skye felt sadness rolling off her in waves, along with a sense of duty that forced her to put her needs aside. “He’ll come around.”

  “I’m pathetic. How can you still love someone who has ignored all contact with you for almost thirteen years, Skye? What are you doing here, anyway?” Kate took a tissue out of her pocket and dried her eyes.

  “I looked across the way. You hurt, so do I. The curse of the empathic.”

  “How do you kill the pain? I think I’d break with it, if not for Allie.”

  She was as close to him as his own sister. He loved her as such. His gifts had gotten strong of late. He couldn’t control the visions anymore, like the one he saw now.

  “You have to stay strong, Kate. You–” Skye trailed off in mid-sentence, unable to say the words that matched the images in his mind. For once, he wished he couldn’t see into the future.

  “I know. Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

  “Anytime. I mean that. Now I’m off to work.” Skye kissed her cheek and left her standing in front of the clinic.

  Chapter 5

  Pressing the stethoscope to the elderly man’s chest, Kate listened carefully. Anything to put off the inevitable. Mr. O’Malley’s condition seemed worse every time he came to see her and now she knew why. The last test results had come back with news Kate wished she could ignore. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

  She listened for a few more seconds and then placed the stethoscope around her neck and wrote on his chart. He was sixty, but his frailty made him seem much older. Years of hard work had taken its toll on him. She’d never had to give this kind of news before. How could she tell this sweet man his days were numbered?

  “Your test results came back yesterday. That’s why I asked you to come into the office. Did Mrs. O’Malley come with you?”

  “No. Her heart’s bad. I don’t want her upset.”

  “Maybe it would be best if we waited until your wife or daughter can come in…”

  “I can tell it’s bad news, girlie. Let’s have it then.”

  “All right. I’m sorry. You have lung cancer.”

  “Cancer?” His breath caught on the word, and she felt her heart hitch with sympathy for his wife and daughter.

  “I’ll set you up with an oncologist. You can discuss your surgical options, if any.”

  “And what can he do for me? Chemotherapy?”

  “No. The growth is too advanced.”

  “I don’t have long left. Do I? That’s what you’re trying to tell me. How long?”

  “Only God knows that, Mr. O’Malley.”

  His wise eyes glared at her. “That’s a non-answer.”

  “A few weeks, maybe a month. I’m sorry. Can I call someone for you?”

  “No. I won’t spend what time I have tied to machines surrounded by strangers. I can stay at home, can’t I? I don’t have to go to a hospital.”

  “No. You can stay at home, but I don’t recommend it.” Kate scribbled on a small pad of paper and then handed him a prescription for strong narcotic. “That’s your choice. I’ll keep you as comfortable as I’m able, but I wish you’d reconsider.”

  “My choice. I choose to live as long and as well as I can.”

  Mr. O’Malley’s thin hand turned the doorknob and he closed it behind him as he left the room. Kate watched him go. She knew he would start setting things to rights. She thought of his wife and Rhiannon, his grown daughter who was a few years younger than her, and the pub he’d owned for as long as she could remember. She wished she could do something for him. She’d wanted to help people, not watch them die.

  No more patients today.

  She opened her office door, sat at the cramped desk and buried her face in her hands. Oh, she wanted to cry. First Ryan, then all the raw memories flooding back to her. If she could just have a moment to herself. A little ball of light in the shape of a heart floated in front of her line of sight. Kate sighed. Such a sweet–if odd–way Allie had of letting her know she was home without interrupting her work. Life was calling, and the heartache would have to wait.

  Kate placed Mr. O’Malley’s chart in the holder on her desk. She’d schedule him with an oncologist first thing in the morning, though she knew he wouldn’t go. Still, she had to try. Flipping off the bright overhead light, she pulled the office door to and locked it, always mindful of the medications she kept in the locked cabinet. Allie wouldn’t ever touch them, but she was careful nonetheless.

  Kate walked to the end of the hall past the exam rooms and opened the door to their little apartment space. Allie sat at the table with her books, pencils and paper. Kate smoothed her daughter’s dark silky hair. Skye’s hair fell just like that, straight as rain. Allie must have inherited the Corrigan side of the gene pool there, and her eyes were like Ryan’s. How many times had she looked into her daughter’s eyes and found Allie’s father in them? Countless.

  “How was your day at school?”

  “Okay, I guess. How was your day at work?”

  “Okay, I guess. A lot sad. So, what happened in school today?”

  “There’s this stupid girl in my class who just won’t quit picking on me.”

  This she could handle. Bullies were an easy fix compared to failed romances. “And does this girl have a name?”

  “Shannon.”

  “Did you stand up to her?”

  “Well–” Allie hid her face behind her hands. “I kind of set her hair on fire.”

  “Allie!”

  “Mom, chill. I put it out, but she’s so obsessed with her hair. I thought that would teach her a lesson. Plus it was cool to see the look on her face when I conjured up that fireball, and I was just so mad. It didn’t hurt her, just her attitude. ”

  “You have to control your temper, Allaina. What is that phrase Devin makes you write over and over again?”

  “An it harm none.”

  “Yes. An it harm none. I don’t want to have to visit you in prison after you accidentally get angry and zap some brat with a fireball. I also don’t want to deprive you of doing something you were meant to do, but if you can’t control your magic, the lessons will stop. Understood? With great power–”

  “Comes great responsibility. I know, Mom. I watched Spiderman. She told the whole class I was stupid, fat and so ugly even my father didn’t want me. Is that true? Did Dad leave you because you were pregnant with me? Is it my fault you’re alone?”

  Kate hugged her. “No baby, no. Your dad loved you so much, but he walked away from me because he thought I’d had an abortion. He hurt so badly that he ignored all my attempts to contact him, so I never got to tell him that you existed. I choose to be alone, but I’m not lonely. I have you and our family. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Well, I know I’m not fat, so I didn’t believe everything she said, but it still hurts. He’s back, isn’t he? I felt your
energy shift and sort of ripple. Dad’s come home.”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Can I go on to Grandma’s? I want to help with dinner.”

  “Sure. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I lock everything up. Be careful and take a jacket. Rain’s coming.”

  “Mom.” Allie rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

  * * * *

  “I’m going to start looking for a place of my own,” Ryan insisted to his mother, who stirred a big pot of stew on the stove. Her apron was covered in flour from the cookies she’d mixed that were now baking in the oven.

  “I love having you home, Ryan. I’m in no hurry for you to move out. You just got here.” Molly bent to open the oven door and check on the cookies. She slipped on a hand mitt and pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven. The smell of vanilla and sugar filled Ryan’s mind with memories of Christmases long gone. How had he managed to stay away so long?

  “I need to get settled in and try to figure out where I go from here.”

  “All of the kids are coming for dinner tonight. It will be nice to have everyone together. It’s been a long time since all of you sat at my table. So, have you made any career plans? Will you try to find work in finances again?”

  “I’m thinking about trying to compose again, or maybe just…I don’t know anything that doesn’t involve adding numbers.” He smiled into his cup of coffee. His mother was used to her own space. She’d never admit he was getting under her feet, but a man of thirty-four had no business living with his ma. “Do you know of any houses for sale or let close by? My day-to-day has been ruled by other people for so long. I’m anxious to stretch out, and I need somewhere to store my collection.”

  “How big a place are you looking for?”

  “Three, maybe four bedrooms. Enough space for a music room.”

  “That is a lot of room for one person.”

  Ryan could just see the wheels turning. He’d bet she was wondering if he would ever be settled. She’d hinted many times when she came to visit in the states. “This guest room would make a lovely nursery with all the natural light coming through the bay windows.” Then there was the time he’d shown her around his office. “How do you get any work done with such a beautiful secretary assisting you? A man your age should have a loving wife and a houseful of children.” Her echoing words reminded him of the scene on the beach with Kate. Could he really get his gift back? Did he want to know the truth?

 

‹ Prev