We all find our seats in the dining room. Breena lets go of Carson’s neck long enough to slide onto my lap, but she takes one of Carson’s large hands in hers and holds it to her. Sweet lass.
It feels so good to be back here, even though we only assembled hours ago. To have Carson by my side, Breena on my lap, and my cousins surrounding us. What we saw today was something that would’ve devastated me even six months ago, but I’ve lived to see how they conduct business. How they maintain peace and order in Ballyhock. And though they aren’t good men, they flaunt the law with ruthless, savage justice… they’re mine.
“I’d like to speak soon,” Aunt Maeve says, passing a basket of bread around the table. Carson takes two thick slices, then passes it to his right. He butters one slice and passes it to me.
“Thank you.” I smile at him as the others take appetizers, bread, and drinks, and Aunt Maeve gets to her feet with a nod from Keenan. Even though she’s his mother, we all defer to him, and he’s led us well.
“I recently found a letter written to me by my late husband Seamus,” she says. Though her hand trembles on the table in front of her, her voice is clear. “And it changes… well, everything.”
She sighs. I look at Carson, but his eyes are fixed on her.
“He confessed to having an affair when we were newly married,” she says. “And I must admit, it didn’t come as a surprise to me. Our marriage was… rocky, in the beginning, to say the least,” she says. “And it took us some time before we found peace with each other.”
Their marriage was arranged, and early on Aunt Maeve suffered miscarriages. This much I know from my trips to the graveyard and what she’s shared freely with me and the other girls. She advises us on how to keep your relationships strong, and we know she’s wise in this area. She’s been there, has walked in their shoes.
“What did come as a surprise to me was that his son… born of another woman…” she pauses to draw in another breath. “Is one of our own.”
Keenan’s eyes widen, but no one speaks. She turns to Carson. “Carson. All these years we called you McCarthy clan because you were welcomed as one of us. But it wasn’t until last night, I knew you were McCarthy clan by blood.”
I freeze. “Bloody hell,” I whisper to Carson. I’m suddenly sick to my stomach. Does that mean—
“Now Megan, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, lass,” she says with a laugh. “Remember, you’re related on my side of the family. You two are not blood relatives.”
“Thank God,” I mutter, and my cousins break into laughter. Carson grins at me, and his eyes are shining. I look around me and roll my eyes. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag on that one.”
Keenan snorts. “You think we were born yesterday, lass?”
Nolan grins. “Or that we haven’t walked in those shoes?”
Cormac raises his glass. “A toast,” he says. “To Carson and Megan.”
Murmurs rise in the room, and all lift their glasses. “To Carson and Megan,” they say, clinking glasses.
We toast. We eat heartily and talk of the night’s events. The staff brings course after course, as if they know that we need this, a night of feasting and rejoicing. Carson recounts all that he’s done over the past few months and admits that he’s hacked into all the O’Gregor’s accounts.
“Remind me to move my money to a Swiss bank account,” Lachlan mutters.
“Ah, lad, have at it, but don’t be fooled. I know you already opened one,” Carson says. When Lachlan glares at him, Carson laughs out loud.
“Takin’ the mickey out of you, Lach, relax.”
Lachlan shakes his head and the men laugh. I haven’t seen Carson this relaxed in… well, ever. And God, does it look good on him. His soft, gentle eyes that bely the stern cut of his jaw, his wide shoulders relaxed, Breena nestled on his lap after she slid back over to him.
“I’ll want you men to see to the clearing out of Stone City,” Keenan says. “Lachlan, you’ll be head. Take Tiernan from St. Albert’s over the weekend, as he’ll know where to look.”
Lachlan nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Carson,” Keenan says. “You’ll remove all possible connections from the O’Gregors. No more hacking into their accounts. Clear your record and strike it from anything traceable.
“Done,” he says.
“We’ll need a breather after tonight’s events,” Keenan says. “I’ll keep skeleton guard on for protection, and Lachlan and Tiernan will finish the sweep of Stone City at the weekend. But the rest of you, starting Monday, we’ll take a holiday. No work. I’ll monitor transactions in the morning, but we need some time off.”
Cheers erupt in the small room, and Keenan smiles. He’s got more gray hair around his temples and in his beard than I remember seeing. The weight of responsibility weighs heavily on him, but the others bear a good deal as well.