He was on his way, as instructed, his way being directly back to the same pile of rocks where he’d made his fateful turn off themain road a week or so earlier. He recognized it easily and found that, though he’d been walking for a good bit of time, knowing Maeve Butler was up the way had put a spring back in his step.
He meant to ask why it was she’d never come to see him and whether he’d imagined the connection between them, perhaps even discover where he’d gone wrong. Though men don’t generally like to admit to worrying over such things, they most certainly do. And Seanhadbeen worrying a bit.
He reached the familiar red door and lifted his fist to knock, but a voice stopped him.
“Have you come, then, Sean?” Kieran was even then approaching the same spot. “Liam thought you might, though Maeve’s despairing of it.”
“She’s expected me?” That seemed encouraging, though with women one couldn’t always tell.
Kieran nodded. “We let her know that old Desmond wasn’t likely to allow you any time of your own this first week or two, but she kept right on hoping.”
Encouraging news, to be sure. “Why did she not drop by the stables and give me a wave? She said she might.”
“And she might have if not for an unfortunate tumble off the ladder.” Kieran scratched at his stubbly chin. “Fortunately ’twas only a rung or two. Well, it might’ve been six. Eight at the very most.”
“Saints above.” Sean grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.
He found his Maeve in an instant, sitting in a rocking chair at the hearth, her head dropped into one upturned hand. At her side sat Finley Donaghue going on about sheep and acreage. Other than seeming rather bored out of her mind, she appeared well. Relief pulled a sigh from the very depths of him.
Maeve looked up at the sound. On the instant, a grin split her face. “Why, Sean Kirkpatrick! Aren’t you a sight?”
“A fine sight, or a horror?” he pressed with a smile of his own.
“Why’ve you not come sooner?”
He crossed directly to her and hunched down before her. If Finley was surprised at the interruption, he didn’t say anything, and Sean was too intent on looking at Maeve to bother eying the other fellow to see his reaction.
“Desmond won’t allow his stable hands any time of their own during the first few weeks in his employ. ’Tis his way of breaking us the way some would break a horse.”
“I told you so,” Liam called from the kitchen.
“You’ve not taken French leave, have you? I’ll not allow you to lose your position on account of visiting me.”
He slipped his hands around hers. “Desmond gave me permission. But what’s this I hear, lass, about your falling near to your death?”
“’Twasn’t so bad as all that. I turned my ankle a touch and haven’t been able to leave this house on account of I don’t walk terribly well yet.”
He rubbed at her hand with his. “How long’ve you been cooped up in here?”
“A week.” Those two words told Sean all he needed to know.
“An entire week? Why, you must be climbing the walls.”
Kieran answered before she could. “Not with that ankle, she isn’t.”
Maeve threw her brother a look of ill-amused scolding. For the sake of family harmony, Sean thought it best to wander off with Maeve for a time. Family harmony being quite important and all.
“Have you a riding horse?” he asked Kieran. “Or a carriage or wagon of some kind?”
“We’ve a hay cart,” Kieran said.
That’d do. Sean returned his gaze to Maeve’s lovely dark eyes. “Would you care to go for a quick ride with me in a very fine and fancy hay cart?”
“I’d be in your debt forever and ever, Sean Kirkpatrick, if you could find a way to get me out of this house for even a moment.”
He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Consider it done, lass.”
He stood once more and turned to face the Butler brothers who were standing a piece behind Finley Donaghue, whom he’d nearly forgotten about. The company of a good woman can do that to a man— make him forget everyone around him.
