Trish Wylie - Rescued - Mother-To-Be

But looking into his eyes so close up wasn’t any less distracting. Up close she could see that there were flecks of gold through the hazel—gold that seemed to glow fiercely at her as he stared her down. And anger rose up in her stomach in reaction to her own lack of self-control.

‘Your father and mine built this place out of love. You throwing money at it wouldn’t be the same thing. There’s no way in hell your father would have taken your money, and you know it. It wasn’t money he needed from you!’

The gold flared. ‘Money would have let him keep this place the way he wanted it. And we both know this place meant more to him than anything else, don’t we?’He smiled sarcastically. ‘The world doesn’t revolve around love.’

Colleen’s breath caught. Fighting down a wave of hurt, she answered him with a tight-lipped, ‘Oh, I know that. I know that better than most people, thanks.’

One large hand caught her arm as she turned away. Held it tight in a vice-like grip for a second, before she looked down at it, and then back up with a determined gaze. A gaze that said clearly, Back off or I’ll fight you off.

Unexpectedly the hold softened, his thumb brushing back and forth as his voice sounded in a low grumble. ‘Is it really so hard for you to let someone look out for your welfare? Even for a little while?’

Her heart thundered loud in her chest, and she took several breaths to calm herself while she freed her arm with a small twisting movement. Looking down again, she rubbed at the heated place where he had touched, as if rubbing it would somehow remove the brand of his touch. ‘You won’t be here that long, Eamonn. There’s no point in me getting used to you looking out for me.’

Eamonn stood statue-still as her eyes slowly rose to meet his.

She forced a tight smile into place. ‘I’m a big girl. I can look out for myself. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing. But, really, there’s no need. We horsey women are made of sterner stuff.’

He didn’t move as she turned away from him. But in the space of a heartbeat—less time than it took for her to retreat two steps—his deep voice sounded again. ‘Fight me all you want, Colleen McKenna. But you’re getting my help.’

Colleen stopped dead—didn’t look at him, couldn’t, her heart still beating loud in her chest. It didn’t make any sense. What did it matter to him?

‘Why?’ It was as eloquent a reply as she could manage.

‘Because it’s fairly obvious you need it, whether you’ll admit it or not.’He moved closer to her with one long step, his voice sounding above her ear. ‘Put it down to a guy thing, if you have to. But that’s the way it is. You won’t change my mind.’

There was a brief pause. Then he continued. ‘I found your stuff in the house this morning. You’ve been living there, rather than in the Gatehouse. So where did you stay last night while you avoided me?’

Colleen felt her cheeks flame. She hadn’t been back to the Gatehouse since her world had fallen apart. But telling him that would be opening up a can of worms, and she still wasn’t ready. ‘The Gatehouse is kept for renting out. And it’s rented now, as it happens. I slept in one of the rooms above the stables.’

‘Why?’

‘Because technically it’s your house now.’ She aimed a glance over her shoulder. ‘It didn’t feel right, that’s all. I wasn’t avoiding you. I was respecting your space.’

A small exhalation of breath accompanied by a quirk of his dark brows told her he wasn’t buying that. Then his eyes skimmed over her face as he spoke. ‘Well, I’d prefer it if you stayed in the house. It’s been your home for a while, judging by how much of your stuff is there.’

‘Your dad started to find it tough getting around. It made sense to have someone keep him company. In case he needed help with anything.’

Eamonn’s face darkened. ‘I didn’t know he was that bad.’

‘No.’ With a sigh, she turned and lifted her chin to look up into his face. ‘And that wasn’t your fault—not entirely. He wouldn’t have told you, was too proud to ask for your help. He was a stubborn man.’

He glanced down for a moment, his thick lashes disguising his thoughts from her. Then he took a breath and lifted his chin, looking deeply into her eyes for a long, long moment. Almost as if he was searching for something. ‘Then maybe he and I weren’t all that different after all.’ Another breath, and he added, ‘You’ll stay in the house, Colleen, whether it’s mine or not. And you’ll accept my help ’til this baby is born. No arguments. That’s the way it’s going to be, and that’s that.’

She opened her mouth to argue.

But he spoke again. ‘I may not have been here to help him when I should have. But I’m here now. You’re getting my help, so learn to deal with it.’

Colleen stood in the middle of the cobbled yard as he walked away, his long, confident strides putting distance between them. And even while her mind recognised that the baby had shifted into a position where it wasn’t so painful, she was deeply aware of another ache. In her chest.

Eamonn might be righting some of his perceived past wrongs by helping her out. Wrongs that might be monumental in his mind, but could be nothing compared to what she’d let happen. Maybe he remembered as much about the day he’d left as she did—the words that father and son had thrown at each other in the heat of the moment. But he hadn’t been responsible for the man’s death.

While Colleen had. Indirectly.

She had no right to accept any form of a helping hand from Eamonn. No matter how much she might want it. And no matter how much she would reluctantly admit to herself she could do with it.

Regardless of all that, even under perfect circumstances, there would be no point in becoming reliant on him. Because he wouldn’t stay. It wasn’t in him. Never had been.

No matter how much the young Colleen might have wanted to be taken care of by him, how she had longed for him to simply care, the simple fact was he never had.

And if he hadn’t ever looked at her back then, there was just no way in hell he would look at her now she was damaged goods. Even before he knew everything.

No, Inisfree was the only thing she had left. The fact that it was in such a mess, that she couldn’t afford extra staff to do the work even temporarily, ’til she had her baby, was her fault at the end of the day. The burden was hers alone.

And the sooner Eamonn went back to his glamorous world the better. Because she couldn’t let herself get sucked back into a useless fantasy.

But knowing all that didn’t stop her chest from aching as she stood alone in the centre of the yard, watching him walk away.

‘HOW long will you be there, do you think?’

Eamonn pressed the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he worked on his laptop, and his partner’s voice continued. ‘Gimme a vague idea.’

‘I really don’t know, Pete. It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.’

‘Well, I won’t say I couldn’t do with you here. Marcy is making me crazy with all the extra hours I’m doing. I could be divorced by the time you get back.’

Eamonn smiled. ‘Nah, I doubt that, somehow. Though why she married you in the first place is still a mystery to me. She’s too good for the likes of you.’

‘That’s as may be. But now that she’s got me, I’d kinda like it if she hung on. At least when your workaholic butt was here she got to see me.’

‘It’s about time you did something, right enough. I couldn’t keep carrying the both of us for ever.’

Laughter sounded down the line. It wasn’t true, and they both knew it. Eamonn had struck gold when he’d met Pete. Fourth generation Irish, the gentle giant had taken the newly arrived, wet behind the ears Eamonn under his wing in the big city. Without his help and his contacts Eamonn might never have made it. And he would never forget that.