Kate Hoffmann - The Mighty Quinns - Dermot-Dex

“Are you finally ready to be rid of me?”

Rachel shook her head. “No. I’m going to be lonely without you.”

“You could come with me,” he said.

“No!” Taylor shouted. “She has to stay here. So do you.”

They had carefully avoided talk of the future for the past few weeks. But in the past couple days, it seemed to come up again and again. “It was beautiful while it lasted,” she murmured.

“Why haven’t you asked me to stay?”

She was shocked by the question and she frowned, trying to read the expression on his face. Rachel had never even considered that he might be happy living on the farm with her. Sure, he felt a need to help her, but Dermot didn’t seem like the kind of man to be happy tending goats for the rest of his life. “I—I guess I know how anxious you are to get home. Back to your brothers and your grandfather.”

“ You feel like my family,” he said.

“That feeling will go away. You’re tricked into that because we’ve been so close. We’ve been living like an old married couple.” She nodded to the boys. “With two kids.”

“I don’t think that feeling’s going to go away,” he said, picking at his food.

The sound of a car on the gravel driveway interrupted their discussion and Rachel slowly stood, staring out into the yard. “Oh, no.”

“What is it?” Dermot folded his napkin and set it on the table. “Who is it?”

“It’s my brother. I should have known this was coming. He shows up every now and then to try to convince me to sell the farm. I’ve been ignoring the letters from the lawyers, which has probably pissed him off.”

“He can’t force you to sell the farm. It’s in your father’s will.”

“That’s not going to stop him,” Rachel said. “And now that the boys are here, he knows his case is not so good anymore.”

Dermot stood up and moved to her side, slipping his arm around her waist. She could feel his body tense beside her and she knew from the look on her brother’s face that he had run out of patience.

“Why is Uncle Jim here?” Taylor asked. Trevor stood up as if he sensed the tension in the air.

“Guys, why don’t you take your dinner inside,” Dermot ordered. They reluctantly went into the house, but stood at the screen door, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Dermot grabbed Rachel’s hand as they stood at the bottom of the porch steps.

“Hello, Jim,” Rachel said as her brother strode up to them. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Rachel,” he said with a curt nod. “I’d heard Jane’s boys were living here.”

“They are. This is Dermot. Dermot Quinn. He’s my—”

“Boyfriend,” Dermot interrupted.

“Boyfriend?” Jim’s brow rose perceptively. She could tell that the news wasn’t what he wanted to hear. A boyfriend meant help on the farm. The longer Rachel struggled on her own, the happier her siblings had been.

“Yes.” She glanced up at Dermot. “My boyfriend. He lives here with me—and the boys. And Eddie.”

“I do,” Dermot said, forcing a smile.

“So things are going better than when I saw you last?”

She nodded. “Much better. The dairy is running smoothly. I’m thinking of increasing the size of the herd. We just had our state inspection a few weeks ago and passed with flying colors. The price of goat’s milk is up, so I can’t complain. Would you like to stay for supper? We’re having meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

He shook his head. “I’m just on my way home. I had a business meeting in Madison and thought I’d check things out.”

“I can give you a little tour,” she said. “If you’re interested.”

Jim shook his head. “No, no. That’s fine. I’m just going to head out.” He turned for the car, then realized his manners. “It was nice meeting you…”

“Dermot.” Dermot sent him one of his most charming smiles. “Nice meeting you, Jim. Drive safe, now.”

Jim turned back to Rachel. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but one day you’re going to realize that you’ve wasted your life working on this farm. It would be better for all of us if you’d just give up gracefully.”

“I’m not going to do that,” she said.

Cursing beneath his breath, he walked away. She and Dermot watched as he turned the car around and roared out of the driveway, gravel spitting up from the tires. The boys rejoined them on the porch.

“Why did he come here?” Taylor asked.

“He just wanted to check up on me,” Rachel explained.

“He wants Aunt Rachel to sell the farm,” Trevor said. “Our mom wanted that, too, until she brought us here.”

“I promised your grandfather that I would try to keep the farm in the family,” Rachel said. “And you boys are family. As long as you’re here, we’re not going to sell the farm.” She smiled at them. “Don’t worry. You have a home here for as long as you want.”

They seemed to be relieved and Rachel felt good, knowing that they were becoming attached to their legacy. Maybe goat farming skipped a generation?

She and Dermot sat back down at the dinner table and continued to eat. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it just below her wrist. “If you ever need help, if money gets tight and you’re afraid you’ll lose the farm, I want you to promise that you’ll call me.”

She smiled and gave him a hug. “Thank you, that’s very—”

“It wouldn’t need to be a loan. Call it an investment. You wouldn’t have to pay me back. It would be like a timeshare. I could come and work the farm whenever I wanted and you wouldn’t have to worry.”

Rachel laughed at the notion. “A timeshare on a goat farm. Gee, I wonder if we could sell a whole bunch of shares? You’re very funny.”

“I’ve grown to love this place almost as much as you do. And I have plenty of money. And I am your boyfriend, after all.”

“Thank you,” she said, emotion filling her throat. “But I really think I need to do this on my own. If I can’t make it work, then my brothers are right. I’m wasting my time.”

Dermot pulled her into his embrace. “I just want you to be happy,” he said. He kissed her, lingering over her mouth for a long time before stopping.

“I am happy,” she said. “Right now, at this very moment, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

“Then let’s finish our dinner and watch the sun set and then go to bed.”

“Separate beds,” she whispered.

“I have a plan,” Dermot said. “Do you want me to tell you about it?”

“I think we can save that for dessert,” Rachel said softly.

“I thought we were having pie for dessert,” Dermot said.

Rachel groaned. “Is that all you boys think about? Food?”

“Yes!” Trevor and Taylor shouted from the kitchen.

“No,” Dermot murmured. “But it does take my mind off the other hungers.”

A shiver skittered down her spine. “Behave,” she warned.

DERMOT LAY ON HIS BED in the stone house. The weather had cooled and a breeze blew at the curtains, rustling the maple trees outside the window. He hadn’t spent a night in this bed since his first one on the farm. But now, it was the only place he and Rachel could find any privacy when the boys were around.

He understood her reluctance to set a bad example. They were affectionate with each other in front of the boys but when it came to sleeping in the same bedroom, Rachel drew the line. Dermot found that quite amusing, prude by day, wanton by night.

He heard the screen door downstairs squeak. And then soft footfalls on the stairs. Dermot sat up, waiting, listening, watching the door in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window. And then, she was there, silhouetted in light and shadow, her long limbs visible beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.