compassion when there was need for it. Last night’s incident with Nic Rivers proved that much.
“I’ll worry about that when the time comes.” He gripped Farran’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ve had enough years of learning how to deal with these days. One day it won’t stop her like it does now.”
“Let’s hope so.” Farran gave him a weak smile and then returned to her station at the grill. “If you’re checking on that light, you better hurry. Food’s almost ready.”
“Gotcha. I’ll take it in the dining room.”
“Patrick will bring it out.”
Con shoved through the door and made a beeline for the restrooms at the back of the pub. Before tackling his duties as the man of the family, he fed the jukebox a few quarters and punched in several different song selections. The first song—one of his favorites by Nickelback—piped through the sound system. Tonight he needed to keep a flow of upbeat songs for Mam’s sake. For his sanity.
Hell, for everyone’s sakes.
Tragedy two days in a row for this little town was two too many. Tonight would be about the living.
• • •
The lid on Nic’s temper blew. She couldn’t stomach the evasive answers and thick silence. Whatever Cassy had plotted would not be sprung on her like a surprise party. Nic abandoned the meal halfway through and took off in her truck, heading for town in a downpour.
Engaging her ingrained training, Nic let her mind go numb as she drove. The music blaring from the radio, along with the steady thrum of rain and the wipers against the windshield, created the white noise she desperately sought. Anything to keep her from thinking or feeling.
When she turned her truck into the Killdeer Pub parking lot, the blank veil fell from Nic’s consciousness. She parked at the end of the long line of vehicles and cut the engine. With her hands gripping the top of the steering wheel, she settled her chin on her knuckles and stared at the brightly lit building. Fat drops smeared the windshield, turning red and blue with the lights from the Killdeer’s neon sign.
Why am I here?
O’Hanlon’s family owned this place. Many of Eider’s residents visited the pub for Farran O’Hanlon’s cooking. If Nic passed through those doors, she was certain she’d be accosted for her part in Dusty Walker’s death.
She should start the truck and back out of here. Go somewhere else. Or back home.
She sniffed. Going home with Cassy there was out of the question. Where else could she go? The only other decent eating place in Eider—the diner—was closed for the night. And she didn’t dare set foot in one of the handful of bars in this town. What the hell. She would have to face these fools and their prejudices at some point. Might as well get it over with.
Palming the keys, she bailed from the truck cab, slapping the door lock, and ran through the curtain of rain, not bothering to miss the puddles. Nic paused under the awning to shake the water from her jacket and her hair, then pushed inside the pub. The bass-heavy sounds blasted her. For a pub owned by an Irish family, rock music pumping through the speakers was odd.
Nic scanned the well-lit interior. “Shit,” she said under her breath.
Just her luck that tonight the place would be full. All the seats that kept her back to a wall were taken. There were a few open spots at the bar, but her muscles seized at the thought of having all those eyes glaring at her backside. Her choices were to take a position at the bar and use the mirror behind the liquor racks to keep an eye on the floor or sit with her back against the bar.
Or just get the hell out of here and go home.
Nope. Better to face a room full of hateful people than to get into a standoff with her stubborn sister. Nic could hang here for a few hours, then go home. Hopefully by that time Cassy would be asleep, or long gone. Yeah, that was wishful thinking on the leaving part.
Steeling herself for the first confrontation, she strode to
“I’ll worry about that when the time comes.” He gripped Farran’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ve had enough years of learning how to deal with these days. One day it won’t stop her like it does now.”
“Let’s hope so.” Farran gave him a weak smile and then returned to her station at the grill. “If you’re checking on that light, you better hurry. Food’s almost ready.”
“Gotcha. I’ll take it in the dining room.”
“Patrick will bring it out.”
Con shoved through the door and made a beeline for the restrooms at the back of the pub. Before tackling his duties as the man of the family, he fed the jukebox a few quarters and punched in several different song selections. The first song—one of his favorites by Nickelback—piped through the sound system. Tonight he needed to keep a flow of upbeat songs for Mam’s sake. For his sanity.
Hell, for everyone’s sakes.
Tragedy two days in a row for this little town was two too many. Tonight would be about the living.
• • •
The lid on Nic’s temper blew. She couldn’t stomach the evasive answers and thick silence. Whatever Cassy had plotted would not be sprung on her like a surprise party. Nic abandoned the meal halfway through and took off in her truck, heading for town in a downpour.
Engaging her ingrained training, Nic let her mind go numb as she drove. The music blaring from the radio, along with the steady thrum of rain and the wipers against the windshield, created the white noise she desperately sought. Anything to keep her from thinking or feeling.
When she turned her truck into the Killdeer Pub parking lot, the blank veil fell from Nic’s consciousness. She parked at the end of the long line of vehicles and cut the engine. With her hands gripping the top of the steering wheel, she settled her chin on her knuckles and stared at the brightly lit building. Fat drops smeared the windshield, turning red and blue with the lights from the Killdeer’s neon sign.
Why am I here?
O’Hanlon’s family owned this place. Many of Eider’s residents visited the pub for Farran O’Hanlon’s cooking. If Nic passed through those doors, she was certain she’d be accosted for her part in Dusty Walker’s death.
She should start the truck and back out of here. Go somewhere else. Or back home.
She sniffed. Going home with Cassy there was out of the question. Where else could she go? The only other decent eating place in Eider—the diner—was closed for the night. And she didn’t dare set foot in one of the handful of bars in this town. What the hell. She would have to face these fools and their prejudices at some point. Might as well get it over with.
Palming the keys, she bailed from the truck cab, slapping the door lock, and ran through the curtain of rain, not bothering to miss the puddles. Nic paused under the awning to shake the water from her jacket and her hair, then pushed inside the pub. The bass-heavy sounds blasted her. For a pub owned by an Irish family, rock music pumping through the speakers was odd.
Nic scanned the well-lit interior. “Shit,” she said under her breath.
Just her luck that tonight the place would be full. All the seats that kept her back to a wall were taken. There were a few open spots at the bar, but her muscles seized at the thought of having all those eyes glaring at her backside. Her choices were to take a position at the bar and use the mirror behind the liquor racks to keep an eye on the floor or sit with her back against the bar.
Or just get the hell out of here and go home.
Nope. Better to face a room full of hateful people than to get into a standoff with her stubborn sister. Nic could hang here for a few hours, then go home. Hopefully by that time Cassy would be asleep, or long gone. Yeah, that was wishful thinking on the leaving part.
Steeling herself for the first confrontation, she strode to
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