Trish Wylie - Bride Of The Emerald Isle

There was another low, rumbled chuckle of laughter beside her as they fell into step along the narrow laneway. ‘You’ve been in the city too long.’

‘What makes you so sure I’m from the city?’

‘It’s written all over you. You look—’ his face turned to study her profile ‘—expensive.’

Keelin tilted her head his way as she walked. ‘Now, Garrett, did you just go calling me high maintenance?’

His mouth quirked yet again. ‘Are you telling me you’re not?’

If only he knew. ‘If you knew me better you’d know I’m one of the least high-maintenance women on the planet. But, please, feel free to jump to conclusions.’

‘That’s why you’re enjoying being on the island so much already, I take it?’

No, that wasn’t why she wasn’t enjoying the island.

She focused her gaze forwards, following the gentle sweep of the narrow stone-wall-lined laneway she was walking along, to where it had branched out in two different directions. It could almost have been metaphor, but then every path taken had a set of choices, right? She sighed, and a confession rolled off her reluctant tongue.

‘It’s not the island’s fault. I just get a little tense when I’m nervous.’

‘And I’m making you nervous, am I?’

She glanced his way again with a small, mischievous smile. ‘Now who’s full of themself?’

He smiled a glorious, full, dimpled smile in return and Keelin found herself laughing.

Garrett leaned his head a little closer. ‘That’s better. See, now you look less high maintenance.’

She was still smiling in amusement as his focus went back to his dogs, his upper lip flattening briefly against straight white teeth as he whistled them back into closer proximity.

‘Do you flirt with every woman who gets lost on this island, then?’

When he glanced at her, his warm eyes were so intense she almost caught her breath. ‘Maybe you just bring that out in me.’

Keelin rolled her eyes, which was rewarded with another low chuckle of laughter.

Both looking up the laneway, they fell into an almost companionable silence for a while before his voice sounded again. ‘So why are you nervous?’

Ah, now there was a question. ‘Let’s just say I’m still not entirely sure what I’m doing here.’

‘You know someone at Inishmore?’

‘No. Not yet.’

They walked another couple of steps. ‘Is someone expecting you?’

‘I’d think it’s safe to say no one is, no.’

Out of her peripheral vision she saw him nod, as if he was confirming something he already knew. ‘So, are you the bearer of bad news, then?’

Even though she knew he was just seeking a logical explanation for her nervousness, Keelin faltered. Tilting her head back slightly, she looked up at the rapidly clearing blue skies above her, her voice low. ‘Sort of.’

Garrett leaned forwards and looked down at her upturned face. And he smiled an encouraging smile when she looked at him. ‘No one likes to be the bearer of bad news. It’s no wonder you’re nervous.’

Keelin stared, transfixed as he smiled down at her. Then his hand reached up again, cupping her elbow briefly, squeezing in reassurance. ‘They’re not bad people. They won’t shoot the messenger.’

‘That really depends on what the messenger tells them, doesn’t it?’

A dark brow quirked. ‘Is it the messenger’s fault?’

‘No.’ The whispered word came out on a small sigh as a wave of emotion swept over her. She really had thought she was better prepared for this. But she was out on a limb further than she’d ever been. And it was terrifying. When she had told him she still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, it hadn’t been entirely a lie. Not entirely.

She had reasoned with herself that she could handle it if she was turned away. If she was rejected. But there was still a part of her that would hurt deeply if she was. If she didn’t find out what it was she was looking for.

It would be pain on top of anguish and grief that she was barely holding together as it was. Maybe she should just have let it be. Left the past in the past and got on with building her future, instead of standing beside a complete stranger with a confession on the tip of her tongue.

The large hand on her elbow exerted a little pressure, bringing her out of her sorrowful reverie, so that she was forced to look up again.

Garrett smiled a slow, soft smile and the depth of warmth that emanated from it brought an equal warmth to her chest in reply that was surprisingly soothing.

She stared at him with wide, curious eyes. She’d just never met a man quite like him before. And she couldn’t even put it down to the romance of rolling mists and a grand entrance into her line of vision. There was just something about him, something that held her attention, fascinated her more than she’d ever been fascinated before.

He was compelling. Yes. Compelling was a good word.

Toffee eyes roamed over her face and his hand dropped from her arm. ‘Dermot Kincaid is a good man. He’ll listen to what you have to say, whatever it might be.’

Keelin’s eyes widened. ‘You know him?’

Garrett’s eyes sparkled briefly again as they began walking once more. ‘Yes, it’s safe to say I know him as well as anyone. And judging by the look on your face a minute ago, whatever you’ve come to see him for is important. He’ll see that too, if you’ll give him a chance. Not all us island folk are potential mass murderers…’

She found it difficult to breathe, her chest suddenly tight. So that it took a few moments before she could find a single question to ask from the long list she’d been forming on her way to the island. ‘What’s he like?’

Garrett’s eyes took on a far-off expression before he looked away from her face. ‘Like any other man his age. Has lived and learned some, so sometimes has entirely too much common sense, which can be annoying if you’re convinced you’re in the right when he knows you’re not. And he’s formed some strong opinions along the way, so can be a real stubborn-headed goat when he wants to be.’ He grinned briefly at her, dimples flashing.

‘But he still has an appreciation for a good-looking girl, so you’ll be just fine.’

Keelin felt her cheeks warm again.

And Garrett caught sight of it before he laughed. ‘Yeah, he’ll like you all right, even if he is old enough to be your father.’

She was glad he turned his face away as he threw out the latter.

‘That’s the house over there.’

The hand that had been subconsciously straightening the material over the elbow he had held onto froze as her gaze followed his pointing finger to the large, old stone farmhouse ahead of them.

Garrett stopped a few steps in front of her and turned, a quizzical expression on his face when she remained still. ‘What’s wrong?’

Keelin frowned. She had been so momentarily transfixed by the sight of her destination that she had forgotten he was there. And she wasn’t about to explain to him why it was suddenly so difficult to take the final steps to get there. How could he possibly understand that, to her, it had taken a lifetime to reach this place?

So she sought a safer answer. ‘And you couldn’t have just told me it was round the next bend?’

He smiled laconically. ‘And ruin all the fun?’

Hitching her chin up a very visible inch, Keelin walked past him with determined steps in flowered wellingtons. ‘You really need to get off this island more.’

It didn’t occur to her addled mind that he was still following along with her until his dogs stopped at the small gateway, wagging their tails as they waited for it to be opened. Keelin stopped, looked down at them, and then up at Garrett’s face as he reached for the latch.