Tully (Dangerous Doms 7)

Tully shakes his head. “No. We’ve good relationships with them intentionally. You’ll see. We’ll find a priest to take his place.” He sighs. “Not that anyone ever truly will.”

I watch people pay their respects. I watch an older man holding a baby, gazing at the steeple that glows in the brilliant sunlight, and I’m feeling meditative.

“Feels like the end of an era, Tully,” I say quietly. He holds my hand and nods. “I’m not sure why.”

“Feels that way to me, too,” he says with a sad smile. “But I think for me it’s for another reason entirely.”

“Oh?”

He grins. “Come, now, lass, as if you don’t know?” He tips his head to the side, and the way he’s looking at me makes my heart go all fluttery again.

I do know, but sometimes it feels superstitious to say it out loud. I didn’t think I’d find myself fulfilled or content with a man like Tully. I didn’t think I’d ever want to be a part of this big, powerful, out-of-the-ordinary family.

But I do.

I do.

I swallow hard and don’t respond. He gently pushes me off his knee and rises. I forget sometimes how tall he is, but even under the exquisite cut of his suit, his muscles and breadth are evident.

“Walk with me, McKenna?”

I nod, feeling weirdly shy and a little emotional.

“Yes, of course.”

A gentle breeze stirs the bushes outside the door, and a butterfly alights on a branch nestled in between bright rose-colored stems. The chill from earlier’s worn off, the bright sun taking its place.

He leads me to the stone pathway that takes us from Holy Family to the McCarthy home.

“Keenan says I can move in, soon as I’m ready,” Tully says in a husky voice. He gives me a sidelong look.

“Oh?”

He squeezes my hand. “Oh. And I want you with me.”

The warmth intensifies, this time, going all the way to the tips of my toes. Live at the mansion? With him?

“Of course I would. I’d love that. You know I love living there with you.”

For a moment he almost looks scared, a look so rare for him that it takes me by surprise. Is he nervous about what he has to tell me?

He walks down the path that leads to the cliffs, rather than the way that leads us back home. When the wind kicks up, he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

“I’ve something to tell you,” he says soberly. “Didn’t seem appropriate to mention it when we were at Finn’s funeral.”

“Yes?”

He frowns. “Your mom escaped, McKenna.”

I don’t like that she even had to escape, but his words give me a jolt of surprise.

“Escaped?”

“Aye.” He looks out at the sea.

“Is Keenan terribly upset?”

He shakes his head and gives me a small smile. “No, lass. In fact, truth be told, I’m pretty certain that if questioned, we’d find we know the person who assisted her.”

“Then you have to tell Keenan, Tully! Straight away!”

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh, his own mother, is it?”

I feel my jaw drop. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as I can be. This morning, when I went to go check on her, she was nowhere to be found. I didn’t think she’d escaped, wasn’t sure how she could, but it seems Maeve did.”

I shake my head, literally unable to comprehend any of this.

“Why?”

“Ah, they were mates, lass. Maybe she couldn’t bear to see your mum locked up. Maybe she feared for what would happen to her.”

I nod. “Aye. What would happen to her if Keenan found out?”

“Oh, he’d have a thing or two to say, no question, but he can’t say anything against his mum, can he? She’s the Clan matriarch.”

“Aye.”

“In all my years in the Clan, not once have I ever seen her interfere like this.”

“She’s brave,” I say, shaking my head. “Isn’t she?”

He smiles. “You all are.”

We stare out at the sea, and I wonder where mum is. Mary’s gone back to her home in Scotland, with a promise to keep in touch. Now with Mum gone, I have no family left. I know I’d feel bereft if not for the Clan.

“Thank you,” I say shyly. For some reason, I’m filled with pride, then. To be welcomed into the fold as one of their own.

Tully stands with his hands in his pockets, staring out to the depths of the blue-green sea. White caps crash on the shores below, then lap back out to sea. The rhythmic lull seems as if it never changes, but every wave that laps upon shore brings with it a small change. Sometimes it seems as if every day’s the same, one after another, but when I look back at how far I’ve come, I’m astounded at the distance.

“I’ve stood here so many times I’ve lost count,” he says. “We all have, honestly.”

“Mm. Aye. I’d have, too, if I lived nearby such a place when I was growing up.”