Jane carried Fiona over to Conall. “Your niece,” she said simply.
He studied the little girl, who studied him right back. “With Niall’s hair,” he said, a smile in his voice. He tossed a grin at his oldest brother. “Bet that took you by surprise.”
“Dad was a redhead.”
That wiped out Conall’s smile. After a moment he said, “Yeah, I guess he was.” To Fiona, he said, “Hey, little one.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he laughed.
But Lia’s heart ached, because she didn’t believe any of those smiles or laughs. She knew she was right not to when his eyes met hers and for a moment she glimpsed desperation.
There wasn’t anything she could do for him but make conversation and give him pockets of time when he didn’t have to try so hard, so that’s what she did. When she and Sorrel went to dish up, he came with them, sticking so close his arm brushed Lia’s a few times. He sat with the two of them, too, but she was intrigued to see that he also kept an eye out for the boys, not seeming satisfied until they had settled at the second picnic table with Desmond and Anna.
Jane gently questioned Sorrel and volunteered the fact that she owned a dance shop. “I so wanted to dance when I was a girl,” she said, “but I never had the chance. My father didn’t approve. So I’ve been making up for it ever since. I take classes—although it’s been hard getting my body back into shape since I had Fiona,” she added ruefully.
Her husband’s mouth quirked. “Her store is filled with everything pink and sparkly.”
She grinned at him. “We sell black leotards, too. But I do a good business in costumes for dance recitals.”
Rowan talked about her desire to go back to school to get her teaching certificate, and Lia admitted that she had a certificate but had never used it. She’d been a social worker before inheriting her great-aunt’s house.
“I wanted to focus on a few kids at a time,” she said. “Sorrel’s been a huge help with the boys, and even more with the two little kids I have temporarily.”
“I guess you couldn’t bring them, could you?” Jane said. “You’d have needed a school bus.”
“This is nap time for them, anyway.”
“Like it should be for my darling daughter.” Jane pretended to frown at Fiona, who was currently on her dad’s lap, being fed bites of baby food in between his bites of potato salad and hamburger.
Lia became increasingly aware of Conall’s big body so close to her. Their thighs touched, their shoulders bumped. She could see the individual bristles on his chin when she was unwary enough to glance at him. He leaned his head close once and said, “Can I get you seconds of anything?” and took her plate when she asked for some of the fruit salad. It felt…odd, the two of them in the position of being a couple when she really hardly knew him.
Except that that wasn’t true, of course. You couldn’t help getting to know someone you lived with. She knew that he often forgot and left the toilet seat up, which presumably meant that he didn’t live full-time with a woman. He was neat; he’d been careful to clean his whiskers from the sink when he shaved, and he was generous about doing other laundry besides his when he ran a load and about helping clean the kitchen after meals. It was funny, really, because he was more helpful than Jeff, whose wife, Lia had come to suspect, must wait on him hand and foot.
Conall was unfailingly courteous, and he was as wary as any foster child she’d ever taken in. And yet he was amazing with the kids. When Niall suggested a game of horseshoes, Conall accompanied Walker and Brendan and she saw him bending over, showing them how to throw, guiding their hands, until she got a lump in her throat. After a minute he called Sorrel over and had her playing, too. All three men supervised, Niall carrying Anna piggyback, Duncan bouncing his daughter against his shoulder.
Lia stayed where she was, watching. Across the table from her, Rowan said softly, “He’s as good with them as Niall was with Desmond and Anna.”
Without taking her eyes from him, Lia said, “I don’t think he realizes he is.”