Running Back (New York Leopards 2)

“Being interrogated by some great-uncle I’d never heard of, about Dad’s entire life. I don’t think she needs this too.”

I shot Mike a sympathetic glance and headed up the stairs.

Coming out of the bathroom, Maggie’s framed wedding picture at the end of the hall caught my attention.

They were remarkably young—well, I thought so, since they looked around my age. Maybe even younger. Did they look happy? Patrick looked—grimly triumphant. Maggie looked beautiful, if distant.

More photos, small and dark, covered the wall, and I followed them into the next room, an office with much larger prints. I remembered Anna’s request for pictures of her father, and looked for a second redheaded man. I recognized him instantly. He’d been younger than Mike when he immigrated, so he had to be younger still in these pictures. But they had the same cowlick, the same grin and jaw.

One picture, in pride of place above the mantel, featured Maggie between the boys. They were teenagers. Her long black hair swept over her shoulders as she laughed on the cab of a beat up Ford. Patrick had his arm around her shoulder. Brian curved his arm around her waist.

Oh...

“Can I help you?”

I spun around, almost slipping on the floor. Maggie O’Connor stood there, solemn and austere in her black dress. “I’m sorry. I just...” I had absolutely no excuse.

She raised her brows. “You’re nosy.”

I raised my hands apologetically. “Incurably.”

Her gaze wandered past me and landed on a round portrait. I turned to face it. Maggie was even younger there, maybe Anna’s age, her cheeks cherub round, her eyes holding dreams. “You were beautiful.” I looked up quickly. “I mean—that’s not to say—”

She permitted a small smile to cross her lips, and waved away my blunder. “I still see her when I look in the mirror.” Her expression softened. “I was the most beautiful girl in Kilkarten in those days. We had such grand plans then.”

“Not anymore?”

“Can’t build castles on cobwebs.” She appraised me. “Patrick was a hard man to like, especially in the later years, and I’ll take my share of the blame. But it was a good thing he did, agreeing to let you excavate Kilkarten. I think it’s wrong of Mike to not let you do so.”

“Why didn’t your husband leave the land to you?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to absolve the anger between the brothers. And I would have just left it to Mike, so. No children of my own.”

“What about Paul?”

She looked surprised, like she’d never thought of leaving the land to her other nephew. “Wouldn’t have been right. That land always belonged to the O’Connors. I’m sure Patrick didn’t want it out of the family, no matter what.” She shook her head. “We should rejoin the others.”

Back in the kitchen, I piled my plate high while watching everyone mingle. Nearby, Anna stood with crossed arms in a group of other teenagers. Lauren argued with Paul over by the bookshelves. Kate laughed out loud at something an older gentleman said.

People kept approaching me to discuss the dig. Everyone knew it wouldn’t take place, but they seemed to think that I was the person who could change that fact, and I had too much pride to blame Mike.

Well, they also liked to discuss my plate of food. One commended me on my “lively appetite.” One looked alarmed at the amount of cheese I’d taken. The third, Caitlin Riordan, whose family owned the pub, explained how excited she was for the dig and introduced her younger brother as Finn, the sullen bartender Anna kept sneaking glances at. Another, Mrs. Barry from the farm nearest Kilkarten, noted that the she’d made the scone in my mouth, and that it would be no problem for her to make up an equally delicious lunch each day for the workers—and for a small fee, of course.

Across the room, Mike smiled and nodded as strangers who’d known his father and uncle told stories about their childhoods. But while his lips stayed turned up, the muscles around his eyes stopped moving, and his hands started to shift.

When he excused himself, I followed him outside. He headed down the road for a long minute, until the laughter faded and the tiny harbor came into view.

Before him, the sea stretched flat and gray, save the metallic ripple of sun. Above, textured gunmetal blue sky and orange tinged clouds rippled out. Muddied pink and shadowy purple lined the horizon and curved coast. Mike’s hands worked at his neck, yanking the tie off. It dangled in his clenched hand, a vibrant streak of color in the softened world.

I walked closer. “Are you okay?”

He jerked and turned. An unfamiliar expression drew his brows down in stark lines, and with the sun setting his eyes were shadowed. “Didn’t I look okay?”

I hesitated, unnerved by his tone. “Not really.”

He knotted the tie around his fists as he hung his head back let out a groan and dropped it, reaching for me. The tie fluttered to the ground.

I took one of his hands and moved close, lifting my eyes to his. They were bright and unblinking. “What’s wrong?”