She walked like Shayla, even with her eyes squinted and lines of pain around her eyes.
The easy confidence, matching hair, and softness in her smile gave her away as the daughter of one of my very best friends.
I rose and extended a hand. “Morning.”
She shook my hand, her smooth palm sending a jitter of sparks up my arm. “Sorry I’m late, Mr…” Her cheeks pinked. “Declan called you Ronan but never gave your last name.”
“Ronan is fine.” I rushed to reassure her without giving the tired line of Mr. Hale being my father’s name and I’d be looking for him any time someone called me that.
We were not exactly friendly enough for jokes and I had a job to do.
Bree swept her hair over her shoulders, pulling it around to one side as she slid onto the booth across from me. A beat of silence stretched.
I should break it, but honestly I was enjoying the sight of her sipping her morning coffee too much to ruin the moment.
My blood rose, attraction tugging at me every time her gaze skipped over to me then darted toward the window.
I remained perfectly still. It bothered some people, but I’d be damned if I changed my core being to make other people comfortable.
I was already damned for finding my old friend’s daughter attractive. “I suppose it’s natural that you don’t remember me.”
Bree’s head swiveled in my direction, and for the first time since she walked down the stairs, I had her full attention. A tiny line formed between her eyes, then smoothed when she groaned. “Sorry, I don’t remember much beyond Mom and Nana. I guess that’s one of the bad things about leaving a small town at such a young age. Everyone knows everyone, and remembers everything. Except me.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t say it to make you feel bad. And you’ll get used to it again. That’s also the perk of living in a small town.” It took my late wife Nancy a while to adjust to life in Clover Hill, but once she did, she fell in love with it.
My heart squeezed in that familiar way grief had of ripping me out of every moment and reminding me of what I’d lost. Five years had dulled the sheer agony, but I wouldn’t call it tolerable by any means. Survivable, at most.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Maeve was a wonderful woman.” I kept my hands steady on the table, though a spasm ran through my fingers as a need to comfort her almost had me reaching across to touch her again. “Maeve was the life of Clover Hill, and she’ll be sorely missed.”
“Yes, she will be.” The line reformed between her eyes, and she rubbed it away with her thumb then finished the coffee. “Do you already know the stipulations of the will?”
I’d heard rumors since Bree’s arrival last night, but I’d rather hear it straight from her. “Why don’t you fill me in?”
She laid out the stipulations with a clear, controlled voice that showed maturity.
No whining just simple facts.
When she finished, she met my gaze without flinching. “I’m not sure I’m going to follow through with it.”
My stomach hollowed out at the thought of losing her so soon, but I masked it with a nod.
Three months wasn’t long at all, but Maeve had prepared me for this. “Would you like to go over what Maeve envisioned for this place?”
“She talked to you about it?” Disbelief raised Bree’s eyebrows. “Then why am I even here?”
“That’s for Maeve to know.” I tried to keep any hint of laughter from my voice. “Maeve had her own way of doing things. She gave me a list of her ideas and left me to pull it all together.”
Bree wiggled her fingers in a “gimme” motion. “Let’s see what you came up with.”
“All this is subject to change. Maeve was clear about what she wanted, but she also insisted that I had the right to take the lead on the project since I’m the one overseeing it.”
“Right. Listen to Nana and you. Don’t come up with any wild ideas of my own.” Something that looked like disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Makes even less sense why she gave me so many rules if she already put this in place. But whatever.”
I couldn’t help it. I patted her fisted hands where they rested on the edge of the table. “I’m here to take suggestions, Bree. You’re the owner now, and while Maeve’s wants are valid, this is your place. You should be comfortable here…in case you decide to stay and finish the project.” Did I say the rest? She needed to hear it, and I had the best chance at making it sound genuine. “I understand you’re feeling overwhelmed right now. When my wife died, I couldn’t think straight for weeks. I think that’s why Maeve put me in charge. She knew you’d have enough decisions to make, so she tried to lighten the load. Maybe after she’s been laid to rest, you’ll have time to consider how you want to proceed.”
She stared at my hand on hers without moving.
Time stopped having meaning as that single point of contact became the focus of my entire world.
