Tears of the Moon (28 page)

She tried to shift around, gave him a shove so that she could get free and climb out. But he tightened his grip and pulled her back until she was curved against him in the cozy spoon position.

“You might be the lazy sort who lies in bed half the morning, but I'm not.” She started to wiggle free, and wiggling, discovered the interesting fact that not all of him was asleep. “Wake up ready, do you?” She said it with a chuckle and pushed at his arms. “Well, I don't. I want a shower and some coffee.”

His answer was a grunt, but his hand snuck up to cover her breast.

“And just keep your hands to yourself. I don't want any of this fooling around until I've had my coffee.”

He simply parted her legs and proved her a liar. “Well.” His voice was thick with sleep, but the arm that slid under her was strong enough to hold her in place. “You can just lie there, then, while I use you.”

Later, when she staggered into the shower, she thought it wouldn't be such a sacrifice to be used in such a way of a morning every now and again.

She turned the water on, keeping it on the cool side, as her skin was still hot and flushed. After stepping into the old claw-foot tub, she tugged the curtain around, then ducked her head under the stingy spray to wet her hair.

It wasn't an easy business with so little water and so much hair, but she had nearly accomplished it when the curtain jingled back. She opened one eye and fixed it on Shawn.

“I don't suppose you can give me much trouble in here so soon after that.”

“Care to wager on it?” he asked as he stepped in with her.

She'd have lost.

Her legs weren't quite steady when she snapped down a towel. “Keep your distance now,” she warned, wrapping it around her while her hair dripped everywhere.“I've no more time for you. I've got to get home.”

“I suppose you don't have time for any griddle cakes, then.”

She shoved wet hair out of her eyes. “You'd be making griddle cakes?”

“I had a mind to, but if you're in such a rush, I'll just scramble an egg for myself.”

He was already dried off and was brushing his teeth, an easy act of intimacy that barely registered. “I suppose I'm not in such a terrible rush. Have you a spare toothbrush around here?”

“I don't, but I think under the circumstances you can use mine.”

She kept one at Darcy's, along with a few other essentials, but she'd been too distracted to remember to gather them up the night before. “Would you mind if I left a few things here, for convenience sake?”

He leaned over the sink to rinse so she didn't see the gleam of triumph in his eyes. Another step, he thought. “There's room.” He handed her the toothbrush. “Use whatever you need for now. I'll go down and put on some coffee.”

“Thanks.”

Leaving her to it, he stepped out to pull on jeans and a sweater. If he hadn't been obliged to be at the pub, he would've found a way to talk her into spending the day with him. As it was, they only had an hour or so.

But he saw, clearly saw, how it could be with them. Mornings like this, begun with love and slipping into the easy routine of a meal before they went off on their ways. Brenna sitting in the pub kitchen for a while in the evening while he worked. Knowing she'd be waiting when he got home.

As he headed downstairs, he reminded himself there were a few steps left to take before they got there. But he couldn't believe, wouldn't believe, he could be so in love with someone and not find the way to spend his life with her.

They'd need their own house, one that belonged to them. A big kitchen, and bedrooms enough for the family they'd make. He had enough put by to see about acquiring some land. He put on water for coffee, and got out the makings for tea as well, as he preferred starting his day that way.

He assembled eggs, flour, buttermilk. Then nearly dropped the carton at the knock on the back door.

“I'm sorry.” With a laugh in her voice, Mary Kate opened the door. “I didn't mean to give a start.” Her cheeks were pink from her walk to the cottage, her eyes bright and cheerful. “I was just out, it being my day off, and I thought I'd stop by for a moment.”

His mind raced for the way to get her out again, fast and smooth, with no harm done. Before he'd come up with anything other than yelling
fire!
it was too late.

“Why aren't I smelling coffee?” Brenna demanded. “You wear a body out before ten in the morning, then can't even . . .” Her voice simply died away as she walked in and saw her sister.

All the happy color in Mary Kate's cheeks died, and her eyes went wide and dark with hurt. For a moment no one moved. Actors in a bad play waiting for the curtain, knowing that when it lifted disaster would follow.

Shawn reached out, laid a hand on Mary Kate's arm. “Mary Kate.” He said it gently, and the sympathy in the tone snapped her out of her shock. She smacked his hand aside, turned for the door.

“Mary Kate, wait!” Brenna rushed forward, skidded to a halt when her sister turned. There was color in her face again, the wild, deep color that came from shame and fury.

“You're sleeping with him. You're a liar and a hypocrite.” She swung out, and as Brenna neither braced for nor tried to avoid the blow, the slap sent her sprawling. “And a whore as well.”

“That's enough.” Grimly, Shawn grabbed Mary Kate's arm. “You've no right to strike her or speak to her that way.”

“It doesn't matter.” Brenna got to her knees. That was as far as the horrible weight on her chest would allow.

“It matters a great deal. Be as mad as you want at me,” he said to Mary Kate. “And I'm more sorry than I can say if I hurt you in any way. But what's here is between me and Brenna and has nothing to do with you.”

She wanted to weep. She wanted to scream and was afraid she'd do both at once. Fighting viciously for one scrap of dignity, Mary Kate lifted her head, stepped back from him. “You didn't have to make a fool of me. You knew I had feelings. I still do, only now I hate you. I hate both of you.”

She shoved the door open and fled.

“Jesus.” Shawn bent to help Brenna to her feet, laid a hand over the cheek that flamed an angry red. “I'm sorry, so sorry. She didn't mean what she said.”

“She does. Right now she means it all from the bottom of her heart. I know how it is. I have to go after her.”

“I'll go with you.”

“No.” A part of her heart ripped as she backed away from him. “I have to do it myself. It would only hurt more to see us together. What was I thinking?” She shut her eyes, pressed her fingers to them. “What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking of me. We were thinking of each other. We've a right to that.”

She dropped her hands, opened her eyes. “She thinks she loves you. I should have thought of that as well. I have to go do what I can.”

“While I stay here, doing nothing?”

“She's my sister,” Brenna said simply, and left.

She ran, but Mary Kate had a good head start and longer legs. By the time Brenna caught sight of her, she was already heading down the slope to the backyard of their house, the big yellow dog hurrying behind like a rear guard.

“Mary Kate, wait!” Brenna kicked into a sprint and caught up at the edge of the yard. “Wait now. You have to let me explain.”

“Explain what? That you've been fucking Shawn Gallagher. That was clear enough by the way you waltzed into his kitchen with your hair still wet.”

“It's not like that.” But wasn't that exactly how it had started? Brenna thought. Hadn't it been just like that at the beginning?

“The two of you must've had a fine laugh or two at my expense.”

“No, not ever. I never thought—”

“Never thought of me?” Mary Kate rounded on her, shouting so now that the dog slunk off to hide. “That's fine, then, that makes it just fine. You go off playing whore with a man you know I have feelings for, but you didn't give me a thought.”

The flash came into Brenna's eyes. A warning. “You called me that before, and I took it. You knocked me on my ass, and I took that as well. You've had your say. Now I'll have mine.”

“You can go to hell.” She gave Brenna one hard shove, spun on her heel, and marched toward the door.

Then let out a whoosh of air when Brenna tackled her from behind. “You want to settle this with slaps and shoves, that suits me.” She grabbed a fistful of Mary Kate's hair and had just given one good, satisfying yank when their mother threw open the door and rushed out.

“What in sweet hell is this? Get off your sister this instant, Mary Brenna.”

“The minute she apologizes for calling me a whore twice in one morning.”

“Whore!” Tears of pain and rage blurred Mary Kate's eyes, but she managed to shout it. “That makes three.”

They rolled into a vicious tangle of arms and legs, and without a minute's hesitation, Mollie waded in, grabbed each by whatever she could snare, and hauled them apart. And since it was like separating spitting cats, she added a cuff on the side of the head to each to keep them there.

“It's shamed I am,
shamed
of the pair of you. Now in the house, and one word before you have my leave, it's the back of my hand for you.”

Mary Kate got to her feet, brushed herself off, lowered her head. And when she caught Brenna's eye mouthed “whore.” She had the dark satisfaction of watching Brenna start a swing and get another cuff for the trouble.

“A grown woman,” Mollie muttered, herding her daughters toward the house, where Mick stood struggling to look disapproving, Alice Mae watched owlishly, and Patty stood peering over her father's shoulder with her best I'm-above-it-all look on her face.

“Sit!” She jabbed a finger at the table, then shot a steely look at her other daughters. “Patty, Alice Mae, I believe you have other things to do. If not, I can find plenty to occupy your time.”

“She landed you a good one there, Brenna.” Alice Mae clucked her tongue as she studied Brenna's cheek.

“She won't a second time.”

“Quiet.” At patience's end, Mollie snapped, “Out.” She pointed to the door.

“Come on, Alice.” Patty laid a hand on Alice Mae's shoulder. “There's no point in staring at the heathens.” And the minute they'd rounded the corner, both of them hunkered down to hear what they could.

But when Mick started to slither out the door, Mollie pinned him with a hard stare. “Oh, no, you don't, Michael O'Toole, this baggage is as much yours as mine. Now.” She planted her hands on her hips. “What started this? Brenna?”

“It's a personal problem between myself and Mary Kate.” Her eyes clicked to her mother, then to her father when he moved to the pot to pour himself more tea.

“When it's a problem that has one sister calling another filthy names and the both of you tearing at each other like alley cats, it's no longer personal. You may be near twenty-five years of age, Mary Brenna Catherine O'Toole, but you live under this roof, and I won't tolerate such behavior.”

“I'm sorry for it.” Brenna set her hands on the table, folded them, and prepared to hold her ground.

“Mary Kate? What have you to say for yourself?”

“That if she lives under this roof I no longer care to.”

“That would be your choice,” Mollie said coldly now. “As all of my children are welcome here as long as they like.”

“Even whores?”

“Mind your tongue, girl.” Mick stepped forward. “You want to slap and wrestle, that's one thing. But you'll speak with respect to your mother, and you won't use language like that about your sister.”

“Let her deny it.”

“Mary Kate.” Brenna's voice was little more than a whisper, and more plea than warning.

Though Mary Kate's lips trembled, she couldn't fight off the rage. “Let her deny she spent the night in Shawn Gallagher's bed.”

The teacup cracked as Mick fumbled and knocked it on the edge of the counter. All Brenna could do was close her eyes as shame and sorrow washed through her.

“I won't deny it. I won't deny I've been there before, and that every time I have, I went freely. I'm sorry that it hurt you.” She got shakily to her feet. “But it doesn't make me a whore to care for him. And you know if you make me choose between you, I'll let him go.”

It took all the courage she had left to turn and face her parents. The understanding in her mother's eyes might have been a balm if not for the shock in her father's. “I'm sorry for this, all of this. I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you. I can't talk about it anymore now. I just can't.”

She hurried out, would have rushed right past her sisters, but Patty reached out. “It's all right, darling.” She murmured it, giving Brenna a hard hug.

That broke her, set free the tears that were burning in her throat and the back of her eyes. Blinded by them, she rushed upstairs.

In the kitchen, Mollie kept her eyes on her younger daughter. Her heart was aching for both her girls, but comfort and discipline would have to be meted out separately.

The only sound now was Mary Kate's ragged breathing. Holding the silence a moment longer, Mollie slipped into the chair Brenna had deserted.

No one noticed when Mick walked out the back door.

“I know what it is to have feelings for someone,” Mollie began quietly. “To see them as the brightest light, as the one who'll answer all the questions and fill all the holes, whether you're twenty or forty. I'm not doubting what you have in your heart, Katie.”

“I love him.” Defiance, still her only shield, edged her voice, but a single tear spilled over and slid down her cheek. “She knew.”

“It's a hard thing to have those feelings for someone who doesn't have them for you.”

“He might have, but she threw herself at him.”