The Harp and the Fiddle: Glenncailty Castle, Book 1 (18 page)

“Glenncailty is a really fucked-up place.”

Caera giggled. “Ah, it’s not so bad, just a little…lost. But what we’re doing there is a good thing—the town, the glen needs it.”

“Well, I can tell you what my favorite part of Glenncailty was.” Tim tipped her head back so he could kiss her. It was a long, slow kiss, stoking the fire of desire they’d banked by having marathon sex upon their return from Miltown Malbay.

“Mm,” she hummed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh yeah, the food was great.”

Tim was waiting with a grin when her eyes popped open. She socked him in the arm, and he laughed. 

“I couldn’t resist.”

Gathering Caera in his arms, Tim lifted her.

“Put me down, you horrible man.” 

“Nope, I found you, I captured you fair and square.”

“I’m not some…fairytale princess you can make off with,” she huffed.

“You’re not? Good, then I can do dirty, X-rated things to you when we get back to the room.”

“Promises, promises.”

Galway was a pretty town with brightly painted buildings and sunny cobblestone streets. Young people from the university covered every inch of grass in the parks that topped the seawall. Below the seawall, a sand beach and paved path allowed everyone to take in the glorious view of Galway Bay. While the rest of Ireland was a deep green, Galway was spring green and gold, brighter than anywhere else in the country.

She’d forgotten how much she missed it.

Caera took a deep breath, smiling as the sea air filled her lungs, then laughing as Tim emerged from a shop, a wool pageboy cap on his head.

“It’s warm out—what do you need that cap for?” Caera asked, standing on her toes to adjust it. It was blue wool and made his eyes sparkle.

“Because I look cool in it.”

“That cap’s worn by old men.”

“No one on Boston will know that. They’ll just think I’m cool.”

Caera laughed even as her heart lurched. This was it, their time together was done, and soon he’d return home to Boston.

“Wanna take a walk?” he asked.

Caera nodded. It was just after three, and they’d had a wonderful day. She’d taken him through the burren to the Cliffs of Moher before heading on to Galway. They’d had lunch in a little place just outside of town then checked Tim into his pre-booked hotel for the night. 

She’d hoped to have one more day with him, but really all she’d gained by agreeing to come to Galway was a few hours. He’d have to go to sound check soon, and she’d be on her way. Still, if she’d dropped him in Limerick this morning, she wouldn’t have had the chance to watch him leaping across the stones of the burren while quoting—badly—
Wuthering Heights
, or to try and pose with him at the Cliffs of Moher so they could get a picture of both of them with the cliffs in the background.

It had been worth it, though it would make leaving all the harder.

They walked along the beach in the sunshine. It was too early in the year for anyone to be in the cold Atlantic water, but there were plenty of people in skirts and thin tops. Caera had left her sweater in the car, and Tim his jacket in his hotel, but she still felt like a raincloud in her dark slacks and top amid the bright people.

“Caera, there’s something I want to ask you. Well, tell you, really.” Tim squeezed her fingers.

“All right.”

“Caera, would you like to be in a relationship with me?”

Caera stopped, faced Tim and said, “What?”

“Wow, this sounds stupider when I say it out loud than it does in my head. Caera, what we have is really special, and I don’t want to lose it, to lose you.”

Caera’s heart raced. She wanted, oh yes, she wanted to believe him and to be with him, but couldn’t he see it was impossible?

“Tim, we live three thousand miles apart.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so?’ How can we be together if we live so far apart?”

“It’s just a really long distance long-distance relationship. People do it all the time.”

“They do?”

“Yes. Listen, Caera, if you don’t want to be with me, then I’ll understand. Actually, I won’t, but that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t want this to be goodbye. I want this to be ‘I’ll see you later.’”

Of all the things Caera imagined when she thought about saying goodbye to Tim,
not
saying goodbye had never crossed her mind.

“I, I…don’t know what to say.”

“Let’s make it simple, then.” Tim cupped her face in his hands and kissed her long and deep. “I think we have something special, and I’m not going to give it up just because we live in different places.”

“But, but how…”

“Skype, FaceTime, emails—we’ll do it all. The world has pretty much solved the issue of long-distance communication.”

“I, I—”

“If you don’t want to try this, then all you have to do is say so.”

His hair was brilliant gold in the sun, his eyes glittering and intense. 

I love you,
she thought, but said, “I never imagined you’d say this, you’d want this.”

“Then I must not have done a very good job of showing you exactly how much I like you.” He bumped her hip with his. 

He was grinning at his own silliness, and his face was so handsome, so familiar, so dear to her. The idea that she might have a real relationship and a future with him was new and thrilling, terrifying.

“I’ve never had a relationship.”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. He’d removed the most obvious barrier between them, but there was a second, much more real problem their potential relationship faced. She had no idea how to be in a real, healthy relationship.

“I thought you… That’s okay. Obviously this isn’t going to be like a normal relationship where I see you every night and make you watch me play Call of Duty. I guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go along.”

Caera was giggling by the time he was done. The hope that they could do this, that this wasn’t goodbye, made her almost painfully happy.

“So, will you be my girlfriend?” Tim asked with a grin.

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“We should probably make it official.”

Caera leaned forward, ready for a kiss, but Tim started dragging her back they way they’d come.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To have boyfriend-girlfriend sex.”

“Is that different than other sex?”

“We’re about to find out.”

“Shoes, you need shoes!” Caera dropped to her knees and reached under the bed, hoping Tim’s shoes were there. He’d been ready to walk out the door wearing nothing more than (ugh, Americans!) white socks.

He raced back, dropped onto the bed and pulled on his shoes as she handed them to him.

He jumped up and held out his arms. “Will this work?”

She looked him up and down. He was wearing his normal jeans and a T-shirt, with his leather jacket on top. The clothes were clean and not too wrinkled, but his hair was another story.

“Wash your face, you’ve some of my lipstick,” she said, then turned back to rooting through the disaster their energetic sex session had made of the hotel room. She grabbed the silly hat he’d bought and ran into the bathroom. He dried his face with a towel while she finger-combed his hair and put the hat on his head. “That’s better.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Tim took her hand.

“No, Tim, I can’t go with you. I have to leave.”

He turned around, gaze searching her face. “Caera…”

“Our relationship has nothing to do with me not wanting to be in Galway. Plus, I have to drive all the way back to Glenncailty tonight.”

“Could you stay until after the show?”

“No, I need to go. There’s something I have to do before I leave.”

Tim kissed her hard and quick. “I hate this, but okay. Be safe. If you get tired pull over and find a place to stay. Here’s a tip—don’t stay at a bridewell.”

“I won’t.” She kissed him softly, one last time. “Come back to me.”

“I will. Hopefully soon. I’ll know more once I meet up with my agent’s guy in Amsterdam. Until then, check your email.” 

“Okay.”

“Walk me down?”

“Um.” Caera gestured to herself—still completely naked—and then to her clothes scattered around the room.

“Right, okay, no time. Well, then…” Tim kissed her long and deep. “I’ll see you soon, all right?”

“All right.”

“I have to go.” Tim held her tight for a moment, then turned for the hotel room door.

“Tim.” Caera grabbed her shirt off the floor and held it over her breasts so she wouldn’t be so vulnerable as she said this. “
Tá mé i ngrá leat.
”

“You know, it’s not fair using a language I don’t know.”

Caera shrugged but smiled. She loved him, and she’d told him so. Even if he didn’t understand, at least she’d had the courage to say it. Maybe someday she’d say it in English.

“Goodbye, Caera. Oh, and ditto what you just said.”

Tim slipped out of the room, leaving Caera to drop down onto the bed, wondering what, if anything, Tim did understand…or feel.

Chapter Thirteen

The Hope

It was coming on suppertime. They’d be sitting at the table in the kitchen, listening to the radio before moving to the little TV room to watch the news and their shows.

Caera’s fingers were white around the steering wheel as she looked at her childhood home. She couldn’t pinpoint when she’d made the decision to come see her family before leaving the west, but she had. Now that she was here, she couldn’t bring herself to get out of the car. 

She inched down the long drive, and the separate garage came into the view. There was a car there, an SUV she didn’t recognize. She stopped, prepared to use the excuse that they had company and she shouldn’t interrupt, when she realized it had to be her sister’s car. Her sister was married with children and lived not far from here. They’d been close once, but Caera’s leaving marked the end of that.

“What are you doing?” Caera asked herself aloud. “You can’t just sit here.”

Steeling herself, Caera drove up to the house, parking behind her sister’s car.

Grabbing the flowers and box of Quality Street sweets she’d picked up in Galway, she got out of the car and went around to the kitchen door. 

She shouldn’t have to knock on the door, she should just go right in. They were her family. But this place was no longer home, as much as she might want it to be. 

She knocked.

Her father answered the door, his puzzled expression melting to shock.

“Caera!”

“Hello, Da.”

He grabbed her in a hug. He smelled like earth and wood shavings, a smell uniquely his own and so dear to her that tears stung her eyes. As quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I was in Galway.”

“Come in and tell us. Your mother will want to see you.”

“Thank you.”

Caera followed her father through the dusty back hall with its collection of work wear and muddy shoes, into the warm kitchen.

Her mother stood from the table, her mouth open in surprise. She came forward, ready to embrace Caera, but stopped short. Caera knew how much she resembled her mother, but seeing her in person reminded her anew. They had the same dark hair, though her mother’s was cut short and was no longer naturally dark, but dyed to cover the gray. Their eyes were the same, as was the tentative smile that tugged on the corners of her mother’s mouth.

“Caera, you’re home.”

Home? No. She’d never really come home.

“Mama, it’s good to see you.”

“Caera.” Her sister Aisling was seated at the table, her youngest child asleep in her lap. 

“Aisling, I’m happy to see you.”

“Sit, sit. I’ll make you a cup,” Caera’s mother said as she took the flowers and sweets Caera held out. “What brings you to the west?”

“I had work. An artist who played in my place was playing in Galway, so I brought him out.”

“Well, that was kind of you,” her father said.

“You should have called if you’ll be staying,” Aisling pointed out, jiggling the sleeping baby on her lap. A frown marred her sister’s face. Caera wanted to offer to hold him—she was sure that was little Matty—but she so rarely saw her niece and nephews she couldn’t be sure. 

“I won’t stay,” Caera assured her.

“Aisling,” her mother reprimanded, “don’t be rude to your sister.” She set a cup of tea down in front of Caera. It was warm and milky, with a touch of sugar, just the way Caera liked it. She took a sip, hoping it would melt away the tears that were lodged at the back of her throat.

“No, Mama, it’s fine. I just wanted to say hello.”

For one wild moment, she thought about telling them she’d met a man, that she was going to be in a relationship like a normal girl. That she’d met someone who cared about her and who thought her music was brilliant and who she knew, deep in her soul, would never betray her or hurt her.

But her bad choices around love and men had hurt them all, and she feared telling them anything about her love life would only make her mother worry.

“How are the boys?” she asked.

Her mother updated her on her brothers, showed her a picture of the girl her oldest brother was seeing seriously. Her father told her about the latest jobs he was working on. As a carpenter, he specialized in custom furniture and cabinets. She’d worried about her parents in this economy, but so far the loss to her father’s business hadn’t been enough to trouble them.

“I should go,” Caera said after an hour. “I have a long drive.”

“Are you sure you won’t stay?” her father said.

“She’ll be fine,” Aisling told her parents. 

Caera sighed. At least her sister never hid her feelings. 

Caera thanked them and let her mother hand her a travel mug of tea, as well as a few slices of homemade bread in a bag. Her father walked her to her car, kissed her cheek as she got in.

“Come back again—your mother and I love to see you.”

“Thanks, Da.”

Caera was in the middle of turning around in the drive so she wouldn’t have to back all the way down when she saw her sister come running out of the house. She rolled down her window.