wonder our hometown has ‘rock’ in its name.” Julianne smiled, then stifled a yawn. “I’m so tired I could melt onto the floor. Now that I’m here...” She glanced around the compact, tidy kitchen. “I won’t mind staying here on my own if Lindsey doesn’t show up.”
Colin stood back from the counter. “I’d like to know where she is.”
“She’s probably got a million things going on and just forgot. People forget things, you know. Not all of us are as perfect as the Donovans.”
Their moment of near-camaraderie had passed, Emma saw, but she said nothing.
Colin sighed. “The Donovans aren’t perfect, Julianne.”
“I know that. I was being sarcastic. You’re going all FBI on me and jumping from A to Z without any good reason.”
“I’m not jumping to anything. I’d just like to hear from this woman.”
“I get that. That’s why you’re an FBI agent and I’m a marine biologist. You have a suspicious mind.” Julianne had clearly lost what limited patience she had with him. “I’ll let you know when I hear from Lindsey, okay? I have your number. I’ll text you.”
Emma started out of the kitchen into the living room. “We’d love to have you join us at the hotel for lunch, dinner, a Father Bracken–approved whiskey—whatever you’re up for. It’s nice to see someone from home.”
“Thanks, Emma,” Julianne said, her tone warmer. “Right now I’ll be happy with a grilled cheese sandwich and a nap. Sorry if I’m being defensive. It’s good to see you guys. Really. I’ll stop at the field station later and find out if anyone there has heard from Lindsey.”
“Colin and I can pop in on our way back to the hotel,” Emma said. “We’ll let you know if she’s there or anyone there has heard from her. Enjoy your grilled cheese sandwich.”
Colin said only, “You know where to find us.”
“Yep. Thanks again.”
Emma could see it was time to leave and all but elbowed Colin back outside. The air had turned cooler, and the sky was overcast, no sun now, although with the short November days, dusk would be coming early. “It’s a cute place,” she said. “Finian never would have recommended it if he thought it wasn’t safe.”
“I guess.”
“Julianne’s like a little sister to you.”
“More like a thorn in my side.” Colin glanced back at the lonely bungalow. “I guess there’s no way I’m going to like leaving her up here by herself.”
“As you said, she knows where to find us.”
The ewes returned to the fence, baaing, crowding against each other. Colin grimaced. “The sheep can keep Julianne company.” He tucked his hand into Emma’s. “Let’s go check out this field station.”
5
JULIANNE LASTED IN the cottage for ten minutes before she had to get out into the Irish air. She couldn’t believe she was finally here. She tightened her sweater around her and walked across the lane to a stone wall. She could hear waves whooshing on the rocks far below her, and the sigh of the wind in the grass and hollows.
So beautiful, so peaceful.
She breathed deeply, releasing some of the tension that had built up since she’d strapped herself into her little rented car and hit the Irish roads.
The lane continued past the cottage, narrowing even more as it turned to dirt and disappeared around a bend. She noticed a man come around the bend, ambling toward her. He wore muddy work clothes and muddy dark green Wellies, as if he’d just come in from the fields. As he approached her, she saw he had thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes, something of a devil-may-care look about him. She guessed he was in his late thirties—Father Bracken’s age, maybe a little younger.
“You must be Julianne,” he said in a pronounced Irish accent. “I’m Sean Murphy, Fin Bracken’s friend. Welcome to Declan’s Cross.”
“Thank you. It’s great to meet you, Mr. Murphy.”
“Sean.”
She smiled. “The cottage is fantastic. I’m glad it worked out on such short
Colin stood back from the counter. “I’d like to know where she is.”
“She’s probably got a million things going on and just forgot. People forget things, you know. Not all of us are as perfect as the Donovans.”
Their moment of near-camaraderie had passed, Emma saw, but she said nothing.
Colin sighed. “The Donovans aren’t perfect, Julianne.”
“I know that. I was being sarcastic. You’re going all FBI on me and jumping from A to Z without any good reason.”
“I’m not jumping to anything. I’d just like to hear from this woman.”
“I get that. That’s why you’re an FBI agent and I’m a marine biologist. You have a suspicious mind.” Julianne had clearly lost what limited patience she had with him. “I’ll let you know when I hear from Lindsey, okay? I have your number. I’ll text you.”
Emma started out of the kitchen into the living room. “We’d love to have you join us at the hotel for lunch, dinner, a Father Bracken–approved whiskey—whatever you’re up for. It’s nice to see someone from home.”
“Thanks, Emma,” Julianne said, her tone warmer. “Right now I’ll be happy with a grilled cheese sandwich and a nap. Sorry if I’m being defensive. It’s good to see you guys. Really. I’ll stop at the field station later and find out if anyone there has heard from Lindsey.”
“Colin and I can pop in on our way back to the hotel,” Emma said. “We’ll let you know if she’s there or anyone there has heard from her. Enjoy your grilled cheese sandwich.”
Colin said only, “You know where to find us.”
“Yep. Thanks again.”
Emma could see it was time to leave and all but elbowed Colin back outside. The air had turned cooler, and the sky was overcast, no sun now, although with the short November days, dusk would be coming early. “It’s a cute place,” she said. “Finian never would have recommended it if he thought it wasn’t safe.”
“I guess.”
“Julianne’s like a little sister to you.”
“More like a thorn in my side.” Colin glanced back at the lonely bungalow. “I guess there’s no way I’m going to like leaving her up here by herself.”
“As you said, she knows where to find us.”
The ewes returned to the fence, baaing, crowding against each other. Colin grimaced. “The sheep can keep Julianne company.” He tucked his hand into Emma’s. “Let’s go check out this field station.”
5
JULIANNE LASTED IN the cottage for ten minutes before she had to get out into the Irish air. She couldn’t believe she was finally here. She tightened her sweater around her and walked across the lane to a stone wall. She could hear waves whooshing on the rocks far below her, and the sigh of the wind in the grass and hollows.
So beautiful, so peaceful.
She breathed deeply, releasing some of the tension that had built up since she’d strapped herself into her little rented car and hit the Irish roads.
The lane continued past the cottage, narrowing even more as it turned to dirt and disappeared around a bend. She noticed a man come around the bend, ambling toward her. He wore muddy work clothes and muddy dark green Wellies, as if he’d just come in from the fields. As he approached her, she saw he had thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes, something of a devil-may-care look about him. She guessed he was in his late thirties—Father Bracken’s age, maybe a little younger.
“You must be Julianne,” he said in a pronounced Irish accent. “I’m Sean Murphy, Fin Bracken’s friend. Welcome to Declan’s Cross.”
“Thank you. It’s great to meet you, Mr. Murphy.”
“Sean.”
She smiled. “The cottage is fantastic. I’m glad it worked out on such short
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