“Wolfe.” Mother grabbed my hands, hers so tiny compared to mine. “What’s going on?” The hope in her voice broke my heart.
“I’m here for dinner,” I said, thinking of Niamh, how happy she’d be to see this. She’d come next month, but tonight, I needed to do this alone.
She let out a little sob, then turned, sniffling as my brothers both gave their nods of approval, Cillian smiling like an idiot and Nevan with a small smirk.
Mother turned back around, a bright smile on her face, eyes shining so bright. “Well, you better wash up in the water barrel outside. I don’t want to see any dirt under those nails.”
I let out a laugh, looking down at my hands. Some things never changed. “Yes, Mother. I’ll go wash up and be right back.”
I turned and went outside, stopping at the barrel next to the door, where fresh water brimmed to the top.
“We’ve really missed you, you know,” Jerome said from behind meas I scrubbed my hands with the bar of soap that sat on the windowsill. He came to a stand beside me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not even sure what I was saying sorry for. Everything, maybe.
“I know,” he said back. “I know you are. I also know that I just want my son back.”
I stiffened, the water sloshing against my hands suddenly feeling ice cold. I waited for him to tell me that it was too painful to see me, that seeing me just reminded him of Lor, how it was my fault his oldest son was gone.
Then I felt Jerome’s arms around me, and I turned into his hug. “And I finally got him,” he said, voice muffled against my shoulder.
My eyes filled with tears. I’d been so stupid all these years, thinking that I was doing everyone a favor by staying away, that I was saving them pain and unnecessary grief. I’d been adding to it all along, but I’d been too scared to admit it.
Jerome pushed me at arm’s length, both of us sniffling and wiping our tears. “Well, your mother’s going to have a fit about that cut on your arm.” He nodded to it. “Have you seen Nevan about it?”
“I will,” I said, walking back into the house.
“Uh-huh. Well, you better do it soon or suffer her wrath.”
I leanedback in my chair after a dinner of stuffed potatoes and roasted carrots, my stomach full.
“You have a little something.” Cillian gestured to my beard, wrinkling his nose. “I have no idea why Niamh is attracted to you.”
“Wait till she sees him eat,” Nevan said under his breath. “They’ve been engaging in a lot of other activities lately, so she hasn’t been exposed to this side of him yet.”
I took a roll and launched it at Cillian’s head, and he ducked. “Hey!” He cocked a brow. “Missed.”
“Rafe Wolfgang,” Mother said. She blotted her face with hernapkin, but I knew she was hiding a smile underneath. “You are forty-two and much too old to be engaging in such childish activities.”
“And you!” She pointed at Cillian. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.”
Nevan smirked until Mother shook her finger at him. “That goes for you as well, sir.”
“Sorry,” we all mumbled, while Jerome smiled broadly, patting his belly.
“Were you going to introduce me to Niamh any time soon?” Mother asked, her fiery gaze on me.
I scratched the back of my neck. “I thought you’d already met her.”
“Yes,” she said, exasperated. “When Cillian brought her. But I haven’t met her since you two started courting.”
“I’ll bring her to dinner next month.”
“So you’re coming again?” Hope filled her voice.
“Yes. I’ll be here every month.”
She gave me a watery smile, and Cillian cleared his throat. “If he doesn’t somehow screw things up with Niamh in the next month, that is.”
