prologue
HUGH O’FAOLAIN
Hugh wason his way to a small airport with several personal hangars that housed planes and helicopters, a few miles outside Dublin. He kept his own plane there, but today he needed a helicopter. He knew the man who owned the helicopter charter business on site and arranged the ride and the pilot.
He and the boys were interested in a large tract of land they believed was a good investment for possible development in the future. Daniel, Jonathan, or even his daughter, Bébhinn, might use it one day to expand on one of their current businesses or to create something new. Regardless, Hugh wanted an aerial view before he made an offer.
He massaged his neck at a stoplight, cursing when he felt the tension threading into his shoulders and upper back.
“Damn it,” he cursed. He knew why he was out of sorts. He and Rowan argued that morning, and they never argued—or rarely since he became prudent enough to choose his words more wisely.
Rowan was his second wife, the mother of his youngest child, and his entire world. He still couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into a relationship with a woman twenty-nine years his junior. But that was Row, the most stubborn human being to ever exist.
She told him she loved him, and he loved her, and that was the end of it. They’d been married for twenty years, and her stubbornness was still her best quality in his opinion.
He’d dreaded his sixties, and the thought of entering his seventies was paralyzing. When they both happened, as time stopped for no man, his wife never looked at him differently. He wouldn’t have believed it possible had he not witnessed the devotion shining from her eyes every day that they were together.
His dark hair was white now, much to the amusement of his two white-headed boys. He was no longer flush with the muscles of a man in his prime, even though exercising was still a part of his everyday routine. Still, she worshipped his body no matter the changes.
They’d worshipped each other’s bodies that morning. Watching Rowan come apart in his arms was his favorite way to start the day.
Only after, she had become pensive. He asked, but she said nothing was wrong. Hugh had never been the type of man to let something go, and never with his wife.
“Tell me, Row,” he demanded.
Sighing, she turned on her side and snuggled her naked body against his own. “You’re exasperating, you know that, right?”
“Yes. Now tell me.”
“You’ll think I’m foolish,” she hedged.
“You’ve never been foolish a day in your life,” he countered.
“Last night I dreamed that you had an accident. In a helicopter.”
He felt a hot tear touch his chest and pulled her closer. “It was only a dream, Rowan. Everyone dreams of tragic things from time to time. You’ve been overloaded at work, and I’ve made you more stressed by asking you to work less. Your brain was anxious.”
“No, Hugh. It was like I was there. Like I was a ghost at your shoulder, watching the helicopter malfunction, seeing the terror on your face when you realized you probably wouldn’t make it.
“I saw you texting me, damn it! Don’t go today,” she begged. “Any day but today.”
Hugh took off slowly when the light turned green. Frustrated with himself. He should have handled her fears better. He should have stayed home until she was past the shadow of her dream. Instead, he told her that today was one of the last chances he would have for the aerial. The property was going up for sale in only a handful of days.
He needed the intel.
She wiped her tears and finally nodded her agreement, but her eyes were sad when he left, and he fucking hated that.
He promised to take her out for a night on the town later, with all the bells and whistles. Her response was to kiss his cheek and tell him, “I love you. Be safe.”
Now, he was waffling his choices and basically kicking his own ass for upsetting his wife. Exhaling another disgusted huff, he picked up his speed, deciding to get the charter over with as quickly as possible. There was nothing to worry about except how he planned on making his wife smile again.
A shrill whistle screamed through the helicopter’s cab as the pilot frantically told emergency services that their tail rotor hadfailed. Their location was given before the pilot yelled, “Fuck!” while he frantically tried to correct the helicopter’s jerking spin.
Hugh’s immediate thought as he saw the ground rushing toward them was despair at how his death would hurt his family.
“Rowan,” he moaned. “Oh, God.”
They had seconds until impact. The pilot was trying his damnedest, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough.
