She turned her head and smiled at him. “These nights out here like this have been too few and far between. Let’s leave the children to sort out their own problems for now and concentrate on us. I feel as if we have a lifetime to catch up on and, even with the extension of your stay, only limited time to do it.”
“We do,” Dillon said simply. “But do we really want to waste the time we have now thinking about the past? Perhaps we should be looking ahead, making plans of our own.”
Nell felt a quick stirring of anticipation. “What sort of plans?”
“Precisely how long I’m to stay, for starters,” he said, then reached for her hand. “Nell, is an interlude all you want? Ironically, it’s my granddaughter who’s gotten me to thinking about this. I’m content to be with you under any circumstances, but, to be honest, you’ve owned a part of my heart for most of my life. I’d be honored if you’d agree to be my wife and claim the rest of my heart from now till eternity.”
Nell had thought that if her heart ever began beating this hard at her age, it would be a terrible thing, but it wasn’t at all like that now. She was suddenly filled with a profound joy she’d never expected to experience again. She held Dillon’s gaze.
“Are you sure marriage is what you want?” she asked. “Perhaps it’s foolish to consider taking such a step at our age. It’s not as if we’d scandalize anyone by just living together.”
“I’ve dreamed of the day I could put a ring on your finger,” he admitted. “I dreamed of it sixty years ago, and now I’ve a chance to make that dream come true.” He reached over and held her hand. “But, unlike Moira, if you say you’re content with the way things are, I’ll stay right here by your side. I just want you to understand the depth of my feelings for you.”
Nell felt the surprising dampness of a tear trickling down her cheek. “Now you’ve gone and made me cry,” she said.
He frowned. “Is that the good sort of crying or the bad?” he asked anxiously.
“The very best kind,” she said, laughing through the tears she couldn’t seem to stop. “I think I’m going to have to marry you, Dillon O’Malley. My heart will never forgive me if I don’t, because I’ve loved you all these years as well.”
Until just this moment, she hadn’t realized how true that was. Though she’d loved her husband, though her life with him had been blessed in so many ways, including three fine sons and so many incredible grandchildren, Dillon had claimed a part of her heart years ago in Dublin. He still owned it.
“Then we’re agreed?” Dillon asked, as if not daring to believe he’d heard correctly.
She squeezed his hand. “We’re agreed. We’ll need to break the news carefully, though.”
“I’ll go to Mick tomorrow,” he said at once. “As the oldest, and the least likely to be receptive, I’ll do whatever it takes to win his approval.”
“Some might say a better strategy would be to win others over first,” she suggested.
Dillon shook his head. “I owe Mick the courtesy.”
She laughed at his old-fashioned belief in the order of things, but it touched her just the same. “Do I need to come along to protect you?”
“Mick doesn’t scare me,” Dillon said with confidence. “Because in the end, he and I both want only the best for you. I think we’ll come to terms.”
“As long as you don’t throw a couple of cows or sheep into the bargain, I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Dillon’s booming laugh carried on the surprisingly cool evening breeze, filling her heart with unexpected joy. And with her hand nestled in his, she was overcome with a contentment so pure it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. And at her age, that was saying quite a lot!
Luke was fairly certain he hadn’t slept a wink all night. Just after dawn, he showered and headed for the pub to get ready for the noon opening. His eagerness to see how well the place would do on a day in midweek was overshadowed by his realization that he was on his own. There would be no Moira at his side, looking out for details, backing him up, giving his hand a quick squeeze as she passed by.
Well, he thought, that was just the way it was. He could hardly blame her for walking away when he’d given her little reason to stay.
He spent the morning checking supplies, even though he’d gone through the same lists just the day before. He confirmed orders with suppliers, who responded that yes, the information they’d given him yesterday was correct, deliveries would be on schedule. In a few cases he could hear the amusement in the voices of the customer service representatives.
“You’re newly opened,” one woman said. “I can tell.”
“Sorry. I’m still a little paranoid about things not going smoothly.”
“Understandable,” she said. “And the woman I spoke to earlier said the same.”
Luke went absolutely silent for a moment as her words sank in. “A woman called? From O’Brien’s? Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am that I spoke to you yesterday as well as just now,” she confirmed. “She called not fifteen minutes ago. I keep a notation of all calls in the account record.”
“I see,” he said softly. “Thanks.”
What on earth did it mean that Moira was conducting pub business as if nothing were awry?
He didn’t have long to ponder that, because a key turned in the lock and she
