“Branna—” Jake tried to stop her from walking away, but it was too late. She was running through the crowd and was soon swallowed up.
“We’ll go after her. You take him,” Buster said, preparing to follow with Annabelle and Ethan.
Jake was torn. He wanted to comfort Branna because she was his first concern, but he didn’t want Declan O’Donnell to leave until he’d spoken to him about a few things, which was what he appeared to be doing. His tall figure was making its way back through the crowd, back the way he had come.
“Stay with her till I get there.” Jake ran after O’Donnell, finding him with one hand braced on the wall of The Hoot. His head was lowered, and his breath was rushing in and out of his body.
“Did you expect that to go any differently?” Jake said, coming to a halt behind him. “It was never in the cards that she’d fall into your arms crying, ‘Daddy, I’ve missed you.’”
The man straightened to his full height and tried to glare at Jake, which was ruined by the devastation on his face.
“Who the hell are you and why were you holding my daughter’s hand?”
“I’m the man who she told that her father never forgave her for killing the only woman he’d ever loved. The man who held her when she said she was responsible for the death of her mother.”
If he’d hit Declan O’Donnell, the pain would have hurt him less. O’Donnell’s shoulders slumped, and even in the growing dark, Jake could see the pallor of his cheeks.
“Someone broke into her house a few nights ago while she was sleeping, but she woke and ran to me, and do you know what she said to herself while she ran frightened and alone?” Jake continued talking at the man, needing him to know what he’d done to his only child. His anger was simmering, but he had it under control.
“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear.”
“The very words, Mr. O’Donnell, and do you know what has become of your daughter because you turned your back on her?”
“No.” He was broken, a defeated man as Jake struck yet another blow. “I didn’t turn my back on her.”
“She’s locked herself away,” Jake said, ignoring his words. “Away from any emotional entanglements, and I would lay most of the blame for that at your feet.”
This man had failed in his duty as a parent, failed to provide love when his daughter wanted it most, and because in his own life he’d had that in abundance, Jake could only imagine what it was like to have none.
“Jake?”
His father and mother appeared at his side.
“You remember Declan O’Donnell?” He nodded to the man before him. Manners having been drummed into him from birth, he then made the introductions. “Mr. O’Donnell, these are my parents, Patrick and Nancy McBride.” Jake watched his father shake the man’s hand.
“I remember you both from my time here,” Declan O’Donnell said in a tired voice.
“Are you staying in Howling for a while, Mr. O’Donnell?”
“I had hoped to, but am uncertain at this stage.”
“You can stay with us.”
Both Jake and his father looked at Nancy McBride with raised eyebrows.
“We have that spare room downstairs with a bathroom attached. He can settle in there.”
“Mom, I don’t think—”
“Jake, I don’t know what has happened between Branna and her father, but to my mind, they need some time to fix it.”
“I’m not sure it’s fixable, Mom.”
“Shouldn’t we help them at least try?”
“I’m sure he can stay in town at the Howler,” Jake added.
“It’s booked fully at this time, especially with the carnival on tonight,” Nancy McBride added.
