The Last Bride in Ballymuir (23 page)

“
Brian Rourke... does he
speak to you? Or you to him?”

The name had all the
subtlety of a knife in the back. “Rourke?” Michael spat. “What the
hell would
I know about him?”
Except that I wish him dead,
he
added silently.

“
You might know where he
is,” Flynn said. “Word
is he’s back in the
country—Sligo or Galway. You can
tell him
it’s just a matter of time ‘til we get him.”

If he were here at all—which Michael refused
to believe—it would be Galway. Rourke’s group had always had strong
connections there. In prison, Michael’s padmates had mentioned more
than once a backstreet pub that was their meeting point. Not that
he gave a good goddamn where Rourke was. Unless it was six feet
under Galway’s rocky soil.

“
I’ll be cheering when you
find him,” he said aloud.

“
Will you? There are those
who have their doubts.”

“
With you being one of them,
right, Flynn?” Michael stood to his full height. “I’ve been patient
with you, Gerry, me boy. I’ve tolerated your little game of
following me about, but that patience of mine...it’s wearing thin.
You do your job, boring as you’ll find it following the village
pariah, but keep your distance. From both me and Kylie. Understand?
Now, unless you have an official reason to be stopping me, I’ll be
on my way.”

Michael brushed past him. Flynn moved a
distinctive step backward and didn’t stop him from getting back in
the car.

The Garda’s voice quavered.
“You’ve had your say, but know this, you murderous filth. You’ll
be
going back to prison, where you belong.
If it’s the last
goddamn thing I do, I’ll
be the one getting you there. And I’ll be doing the cheering
then.”

A challenge, was it? Before he rolled up his
window and drove off, Michael tossed one of his own. “If you can
accomplish that, feel free to cheer, you stupid bastard.”

Chapter Fourteen

Possession satisfies.

—
Irish Proverb

Feet slamming down the stairs, Michael
bellowed, “Vi, pick up the damn phone!” Five rings now and she
hadn’t bothered to stop singing long enough to answer it. “Taking
after Father, are you? Deaf as a post?”

By eight rings, he loomed over his sister. Vi
lounged in her overstuffed chair in front of the empty hearth,
singing an old song about family far across the sea. She paused
only long enough to arch a brow in his direction.

“
It’s not for
me.”

Michael bit back an annoyed remark about the
grim fate of witches. He’d settle for wiping that complacent grin
off her face. Once he’d answered the damn phone.

“
Hello.”

“
Ah... is that you,
Michael?” The voice was male—a young one trying to sound adult.
City noises played in the background.

“
It is. Who’s
this?”

“
Pat.” Relative silence was
followed by the sound of nervousness being gulped back. “Your
brother... Pat.”

Michael shot an incredulous look Vi’s way.
Her smile grew until she found the good sense to hide it behind her
morning mug of tea.

“ ‘
Lo, Pat. Were you looking
for Violet?”

“
Uh, no... actually, I was
looking for you.”

For
him?

“
I see,” he said. But he
didn’t see at all. His memory
of Pat was
one of two matching carrot-headed boys crying, whining, and
generally being dual pains in the ass.

“
Tell him I’m here, too,” he
heard someone shouting not far from the phone.

“
I... uh, we—Danny and
me—were wondering how you are.”

“
Fine, and you?”

“
Expelled from school for
the rest of the week, but
if Mam doesn’t
catch wind of it, we should be right enough.”

Michael almost smiled, recalling his own
early efforts to sneak behind Mam’s back. “I won’t be telling
her.”

“
We didn’t figure you would,
especially since every time we mention your name, she tightens her
lips down to nothing. I keep hoping that one day when she does
that, her mouth’ll seal shut. Life would be easier then, wouldn’t
it? Anyway, we were thinking maybe this is a good time to come
visit. We picked up the bus schedule and so long as we’re careful
we could be to Ballymuir and back before Mam ever knows we’re
missing.”

Michael gazed down at the
cold tile floor. The chill
under his bare
feet wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as this call. He didn’t want to
hear about his mother. He knew her well enough. The twins, though,
were strangers to him. Worse, they represented another link to the
mother and father he wanted to cut from his life. As they had cut
him.

Michael tried to keep his anger behind his
teeth. “I’m working now, busy all day.”

“
We don’t want to be
entertained. We just want to see you.”

Couldn’t the boy take a “no” with some
measure of grace? “If you go sneaking off without your mother’s
permission, you can be damned sure it’ll be the last time you see
me. Hell, you’d be lucky to leave the house for another year.”

“
We’re seventeen years old
and free to go where we want.”

“
Then why are you calling me
from a pay phone? If you have all this freedom, why not go home and
ring me up from there?” Pat didn’t answer. An uncomfortable knot
grew in Michael’s gut and traveled outward, leaving him tense.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to see you, but the time’s just
not right.”

“
Yeah? When will it be,
Michael? You don’t want to see us at all. It was pretty soddin’
stupid of us to think you would.”

“
Wait—” But the line was
already dead. Telling himself it was for the best, Michael hung up,
too.

“
Royally screwed that up,
didn’t you?” Vi commented.

“
Why don’t you just go back
to your singing?” He kneaded the back of his neck where the guilt
seemed to have settled.

She stretched, then stood.
“I’ve got nothing to sing
about.” As she
padded toward the kitchen, mug in hand, she added, “Would it have
killed you to see them?”

He followed, nearly tripping
over Roger, who’d
come to associate him
with a buffet of failed cooking
experiments.

“
Not now,” he murmured to
the dog, then turned to his sister. “What would I say to them? What
the hell do they want?”

“
They want a brother. And as
for what you’d say
to them, say whatever.
You, more than anyone, know
it’s not the
words that matter, it’s welcoming them into your life.”

“
Maybe I don’t need
them.”

Vi’s empty mug clattered
onto the counter. “You really can be a selfish bastard, can’t you?
Did it ever occur to you that Pat and Danny need
you?
That Mam’s been as
horrible to them as she was to you? Have you thought beyond your
own troubles even once since you got out of prison?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but she wasn’t
quite done.

“
And don’t be telling me you
don’t need your family! Is your life so rich and wonderful? Now,
I’m glad for Kylie and for your work at Muir House, too. But is it
all so grand that you can afford to shut out the rest of the
world?”

It was a blessing that he loved Vi, because
at that moment he didn’t like her very much. “Can’t you ever leave
me alone? Isn’t anything I do enough?”

Her expression softened, and he thought maybe
he saw a hint of tears shining in her eyes. “Everything you’ve
done is wonderful, and I know that healing yourself is no easy
thing. But you can’t stop now. Weeks ago I would have held off Pat
and Danny, told them to wait before they spoke to you. It’s
different now—you’re ready. You can be what they need, and you just
might get something back in return.” She paused. “It’s been that
way with Kylie, hasn’t it?”

“
Yeah, but I could no more
have turned away from Kylie than I could from—”

“
Your own
brothers?”

She had a tidy way of making him feel small.
Of forcing the truth on him. Michael made a show of getting a mug
and throwing together a cup of tea.

“
If they call again,” he
said over his shoulder, “tell
them... tell
them that I’m asking after them.”

“
Good enough.”

It had better be. It was all he was willing
to offer.

“
I’m expecting that you’ll
be out at Kylie’s this evening” Vi said after a tactful
silence.

“
I will.”

Over the past few weeks, two
routines had
become part of his life.
Michael liked the first one far
more than
the second. Each night he slipped off to Kylie’s where they would
share dinner and talk about their day. Then they’d spend time
holding each other, edging closer to the point where there would be
no turning back. Where need would push past her lingering
hesitance. Soon, he thought. Soon or he just might die from wanting
her so badly.

The second routine was his nightly drive home
with Gerry Flynn staying just far enough back that he couldn’t do a
damn thing about it. With luck, Flynn would tire of the game—or
find some better way to spend his nights—before he was forced to
spread the boy’s nose from ear to ear.

He pulled out of his thoughts to see Vi
digging around in the velvet sack he privately termed her
sorcerer’s bag. She drew out an envelope with a victorious
“Ah!”

“
When you see Kylie, give
her this, will you?”

Michael took the letter. “What is it?”

Vi laughed. “None of your business.” At his
threatening look she added, “What do you think, vain man, that
we’re passing notes about you?”

“
Kylie, I trust. You, Sis,
take a little more watching.”

“
Me? You’ll be steaming open
that envelope the second I turn my back. And just to find out that
I’ve
managed to secure Village Hall for the
Gaelscoil stu
dent art show,
too.”

“
That was grand of you.
Kylie will be thrilled.”

His sister shrugged off the kind act. “It was
nothing.”

“
To think that I was
doubting your motives,” he teased, “nosing into Kylie’s life like
you did.”

“
All right, so I wasn’t
exactly pure-hearted when I started this project, but I like my
time with the children. I like watching Kylie, too. She’s a
natural with them, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted
a brood of her own.”

“
Now you get your own words
back. It’s none of your business.”

“
It’s not, but it’s
something you’d best be considering.”

He preferred to consider the
step preceding parent
hood. Much preferred
it. “You sound like one of those talk programs on the radio. But I
haven’t rung you up and I’m not looking for advice.”

“
Then just store that bit
away for when you are,” Vi said before disappearing back to her
bedroom.

Left in the kitchen with
just Roger for company, he
said, “Keep an
eye on her today. She’s up to no good.”

The dog peered up at him as
if to ask,
What’s in it for me?

“
You’ll be getting a true
dinner tonight,” Michael answered, no longer concerned that he’d
fallen into the habit of talking to the homely beast. “It’s my
night to bring food to Kylie’s.”

Seduction.
Kylie rolled her eyes at the thought. No woman had
ever been less equipped to carry off the act. But seduction was all
she had left—a flat-out luring of Michael into her bed. For days
now he’d been noble and not gone beyond the kisses and touches that
left her weak-limbed and knowing that there was something
absolutely marvelous shimmering just beyond her reach.

How she wanted him! One dreadful night in her
past was nothing against the here and now. Nothing against her
need.

Seduction.
He’d never take that last step before she
asked, and the idea of asking filled her with
panic. Kylie peered down at the silky top and tweed trousers she’d
put on. They were a bit more alluring than the drab convent blue
skirt and white blouse she’d worn to work yet again today. Better,
but hardly how she had pictured this moment.

Soon he’d be knocking at the door. She had
mere minutes to go from schoolteacher to seductress. Kylie flew
back into the bedroom. Fingers fumbling, she tugged out of her
tweeds, then stared into the gaping doors of her wardrobe.

“
Well, what then?” she
asked, shoving aside her only two dresses. And there it hung, the
man’s shirt that Michael had tossed to her weeks before. She smiled
at the memory and felt her fear begin to fade.

“
Of course.” She’d been a
seductress that day. She slipped on the shirt over her conservative
undies, which she didn’t even consider taking off. One could carry
a role only so far. Kylie walked to the front room. She pulled
aside the curtain and looked out the window, hoping Michael would
appear soon.