He stood up and walked to the bedroom door, then turned back to her. “Good night, Nan.”
“’Night, Riley.”
Riley walked through the cottage and out the front door, into the cool night. He drew a deep breath and smiled to himself. He’d never in his life turned down a warm and willing woman. But then, he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Nan. The best things in life were always worth waiting for.
3
“MORNIN’.”
Nan smiled at the handsome man behind the bar, then realized he was the brother she’d met last night, freshly shaved and sober. “You’re Danny, right?”
He nodded. “Danny. We met last night. Although it was so black in here that we didn’t have time for a proper introduction.” He held out his hand over the bar. “Danny Quinn. I’m the younger. Don’t know if you’ll get a chance to meet Kellan. He’s the elder.”
She shook his hand, then took a seat on one of the stools. “I’m Nan. Nan Galvin.”
“I remember,” he said, his smile wide. “And how are you enjoying your stay in Ballykirk so far?”
“I haven’t seen much,” she replied. “Riley said we were going out sightseeing after breakfast, but it’s almost time for lunch. Is he here?”
“He had to make a quick run into Glengarriff to pick up mussels, but he said to tell you he’d be back around eleven. Which means, he’ll be back in ten minutes. Can I get you anything while you wait?”
“Coffee, if you have it,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I’m trying to reset my clock and I think it might take more than a day.”
“How do you have it?”
“Black,” she said. “And very strong.”
“Katie’s made some lovely soda bread. Can I interest you in a slice? Fresh out of the oven.”
Nan nodded. “I’d like to try that. I read in my guidebook that it’s traditional Irish food.”
Danny disappeared into the kitchen. While she waited, Nan took in more details of the pub. She hadn’t had much chance to really look around. Riley had told her about watching the singers in his parents’ pub, about how he’d memorize all the songs and then try to figure them out on an old guitar his father had bought him.
This place was as familiar to him as the library was to her. She peered at an old photo hung above the cash register and then circled the bar to take a closer look.
A man and woman stood in front of the pub with two teenage girls and a trio of young boys. Nothing had changed much in the ensuing years with respect to Riley and Danny, Nan thought. The two Quinn brothers she’d already met still possessed their boyish smiles and tousled hair. The sisters, though all arms and legs, were already beauties.
The kitchen door opened and Danny reappeared with a plate and a mug. “Here we are,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Nan murmured. “I was just taking a look at this photo. You and your brother haven’t changed much.”
“That was taken the day my da bought in to the Hound,” he said. “I think I was seven. Riley was nine and Kellan would have been eleven. Shanna and Claire were teenagers.” He set the plate and mug on the bar. “There are other photos over on that wall. A few of Riley performing when he was just a lad.”
She returned to her seat and picked up the coffee, then took a slow sip. “Umm, I really needed this. I have to shop for groceries today. I don’t have anything up at the cottage. Where would I go?”
“We have a small green grocer in town. He sells locally grown vegetables. And the baker’s right next door to him. If you want fish, just walk down to the waterfront when the boats come in. If you want chicken, Bobby Rankin raises them and will deliver them to the green grocer the day after you order. Anything else, you’ll need a real supermarket and that’s in Kenmare, across the pass.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“No problem,” he said with a warm smile. “Now, you’ll have to pardon me because I need to change out the barrel on the Guinness.”
As promised, the soda bread was lovely-a bit tangy and filled with plump, sweet raisins. She spread butter over a slice and took a big bite, then groaned softly. It was the perfect breakfast food, she mused. Grabbing her mug, Nan walked over to the wall of photos, curious to find more of Riley. There were layers upon layers, some so old they were yellow and curled and the color faded.
As promised, there were a number of Riley performing at the pub, from the time he was just a young boy through adulthood. She compared each one, noting how happy he looked standing in front of the microphone, his guitar almost bigger than he was.
As she turned away to return to the bar, a snapshot caught her eye. Nan stepped closer, leaning in to the group of six young twenty-somethings-three men and three women. For a moment, her heart stopped beating and she felt dizzy.
One of the girls in the photo looked so much like her mother it was-no, it had to be her mother. She set her bread and coffee down on the edge of the pool table and carefully peeled the photo off the wall. Nan hurried over to the window, searching for more light.
“Oh, it is,” she murmured, the words coming out on a sigh. There was no doubt in her mind. Though the colors were faded, the girl with the red hair was someone she’d seen in pictures at home-the wedding photo her father had kept on the mantel, the framed portrait that she’d had next to her bed and the family pictures that her grandparents had pasted in albums.
A rap at the window startled Nan out of her contemplation and she looked up to find Riley smiling at her. She quickly shoved the photo into her jacket pocket and hurried to the door. When he stepped inside, Nan wasn’t quite sure what to do. She wanted to put the photo back where she’d found it, yet she needed time to examine it more closely.
She’d put it back later. No one would miss it, not with all the other photos tacked to the wall. Riley appeared in the doorway and Nan smiled. Her first impulse was to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. But the ease they shared yesterday had been tempered by a night apart. “Hi,” she said.
“Well, what kind of sorry greeting is that?” To her relief, Riley grabbed her around the waist and gave her a playful kiss. “Hello. You’re up early. I expected you’d sleep the day away.”
“No,” she said, smiling up at him. “I feel great.”
“You look great,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. “Have you had breakfast yet?”
“Danny brought me coffee and some soda bread. I didn’t have anything at the cottage to eat.”
“Well, we’ll have to go get you what you need. I’m just going to grab some coffee and we’ll be off.”
Nan retrieved her coffee from the pool table and gobbled down the rest of her bread, then wrapped the other two pieces in a bar napkin. When Riley returned with his coffee, he walked to the door and held it open. “Ireland awaits.”
When they got outside, Nan remembered that the car was still at the cottage. “We’ll have to walk back,” she said. “I was afraid to bring the car.”
“We can take my car,” he said. He pointed to a Toyota SUV parked at the curb. The back hatch was open and Katie, the cook, was retrieving small crates and setting them on the sidewalk. “Thanks, darlin’.”
“Your car? This is what you drive?”
“Yeah. I have to haul a lot of gear when I have a gig. And this morning, I hauled mussels from Bantry.”
“If this car has an automatic transmission, I’m going to murder you,” she said.
He chuckled as he opened her door. “Sorry. It’s got a gearshift. And no, I’m not going to let you drive this one until you’ve mastered the clown car.”
“I’ve decided that I’m not going to learn how to drive that car. I’m just going to have you chauffeur me everywhere I want to go.”