Shadow Spell (The Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy 2)

“It is! Of course it is. This was a result of trauma.”

“A coma’s a result of trauma. Making out in a truck—lorry—is a result of something else entirely.”

“It wasn’t making out, just a couple kisses.”

“Tongues?”

“Oh bloody hell.” She yanked off her cap, tossed it down, stomped on it.

“Does that help?” Iona wondered.

“No.” Disgusted, Meara grabbed the cap, beat it against her thigh. “How can I tell Branna I’ve been snogging her brother in his lorry on the side of the road like a horny teenager?”

“

The same way you told me. What about—”

“Do the two of you intend to stand around all morning, or will you be hauling that manure out?” Boyle stepped to the opening, scowled at them.

“We’re nearly done,” Iona told him. “And we have something we have to discuss.”

“Discuss later, haul manure now.”

“Go away.”

“I’m the boss here.”

She merely stared at him until he shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked away.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Mortified all over again, Meara shoveled more manure. “Connor will for certain. Men are worse than women about such matters.”

“What did you say to Connor? After.”

“I told him that was the end of it, and I wasn’t going to talk about it.”

“Right.” Iona managed to hold back the laugh, but not the toothy smile. “That’ll work.”

“We can’t have a mad, momentary impulse twisting things up. We’ve more important things to concern us, as a whole.”

Iona said nothing for a moment, then stepped over, gave Meara another hug. “I understand. I’ll go with you when you talk to Branna if you want.”

“Thanks for that, but it’s best I do it on my own.”

“Go this morning, get it off your mind. I’ll cover for you.”

“It would be good to get it out and gone, wouldn’t it?” And maybe her stomach would stop rolling around, she considered as she pressed a hand to it. “I’ll finish up here, then run over. Once it’s said, I can put it aside and concentrate on what needs doing without it nagging at me.”

“I’ll smooth it with Boyle.”

“Tell him I’ve my monthlies or some other female thing. It always shuts him up.”

“I’m aware,” Iona said with a laugh, and went back to her own stall.

* * *

DO IT QUICK, MEARA ORDERED HERSELF AS SHE STRODE through the woods. Get it over. Branna would hardly be mad about it—more likely she’d laugh, and think it a fine joke.