My men laugh, and Lachlan stands to give me a manly embrace and slap on the back. His redheaded wife Fiona’s eyes twinkle at me as she stands and kisses my cheek in greeting.
During our hardest times, when we lost my oldest brother, the McCarthy family were our greatest allies. Keenan even sent some of his men, and they helped us do the jobs that we had to. The McCarthy clan matriarch came and visited my mum, and we won’t forget what good friends they were.
“Fiona was just saying she's never seen snow like this, and how she’d love to bring our son in his little snowsuit,” Lach says, sitting back at the large kitchen table.
“He’s with his nanny now, but wouldn’t that be such great fun?”
Cairstina’s eyes twinkle, and she waves her fingers at me. I wave back and sit beside her. I take her hand in mine and give her a little squeeze.
“Couldn’t find you when I woke,” I say in her ear. “Didn’t see the note until Tate told me about it.”
Her eyes grow troubled and she shakes her head, then takes out her mobile and sends me a quick text.
I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to wake you.
I nod. I’ve already forgiven it; it was an honest mistake.
“Next time, doll. Wake me.”
She nods and the conversation picks up. Mum sits at the table with Nan, and they ask about the children, Maeve, and how things are getting on in Ballyhock.
“Things are smashing good,” Lach says. “Keenan’s had to put another addition on the house, we’re fairly bursting at the seams, but few of us want to leave. Since Nolan and Sheena moved out, though, Fiona and I moved into their place. It’s within walking distance of the main house, but we like the privacy.”
“Aye,” Fiona says. “Agreed.”
“Aw, why didn’t you bring the wee bairn?” Nan asks. “I’d have loved to see ‘im.”
“He’s with his nanny for the day, but we’ll bring him in the summer?” Fiona says with a smile. “We were afraid the trip would take too long. He’s rubbish in the car.”
“Now, Fiona, you must come down and see my wee home,” Nan says. “Cairstina’s planted an herb garden with me, a right goodindoorone, and it’s thriving. Come have a look?”
Fiona pushes up from the table. “Would love to,” she says. She takes Islan’s arm. “And you tell me about those books you girls were goin’ on about, eh?”
I roll my eyes at Lachlan. “Scottish fucking mafia romance,” I mutter. “They’re damn near smitten with ‘em.”
He shrugs. “Romance is good for a woman’s soul, mate. Ask me how I know.”
Mum laughs and follows the girls. “I think this is my cue to leave, lads. You can catch up on yer manly gossip for a bit, eh?”
Mac comes in, and catches the bit. “Manly gossip,” he mutters with a pretend pout. “My feelings are hurt.” He claps Lachlan on the shoulder. “Bloody good to see you, mate.”
Lachlan’s a large, strapping bloke. I remember when he was newly inducted in the McCarthy Clan, one of the youngest they ever had. I'm not sure exactly how old he was but I don't think he’d quite reached his eighteenth birthday. Keenan McCarthy inducted him early, and he's become one of the most steadfast members of the McCarthy clan. A foreign liaison to several countries, the most traveled among them, and now that he's settling down with a family of his own, he and Fiona are trying to keep things closer to home. Scotland's about as far as he'll go.
Works for us.
Clyde joins us, and a few of the others, and I watch as one of the staff whispers to another. Ailsa. Her friend takes her leave, grabs a duster, and goes to the other room, while Ailsa comes over to our table with the kettle.
“More tea, sir?” she asks Lachlan.
He covers his cup. “All good, thanks.”
I watch her as I sip my own steaming mug. “Lach, you heard the girls talking about the romance novels they were reading just now.”
“Aye.”
“It’s a bit unsettling, mate.”
“Why’s that?”
