With a nod, she took the phone from him once it started to ring. Her mother answered before the first ring finished.
“Hello.”
Her mother sounded like she’d been crying.Damn.“Hey, Mom, it’s me. Sorry, it’s so late.”
There was a squeal, then arguing voices, and finally, her mother cleared her throat. “Bébhinn, sweetheart. No worries, I’m just so happy to hear your voice.”
She made a vow when she heard the quiver in her mother’s voice that she would never forget the sat phone again.
“No fucking worries. No worries, Row? For fuck’s sake, sister! You made your mother and aunts worry,” Bran’s growly voice shouted over the line, loud enough for Dagr to hear if his raised brows were any indication.
Bran must have taken the phone from her mom, or Bébhinn was on speaker. “I’m literally only three hours later than I normally call, Bran. I hardly think your tone is necessary,” she warned.
“Are you safe? I don’t like this.” Speaker then. That was Patrick.
Before she could answer, Raven said, “I’m glad you called. My husband has been impossible.”
“Ignore your brother, babe. He’s grumpy because I had a treatment on my vagina and he’s been cut off for two days.”
“Jesus, River, stop! Now I’m snowed in and gagging.” She glanced at Dagr, who had his hands covering his face to stifle his laughter.
Another thirty seconds went by when all she could hear were people saying “Stop,” “Christ, Riv,” “I’m officially sick,” and the go-to, “Dad, make her stop.”
Jonathan piped up next. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“There are several caves just off the main trail. I found one and started a fire. I just finished eating dinner. I’m cozy. Hopefully, the snow breaks by morning, and I can start early.”
Her mother gasped, “Oh, Bébhinn. A cave? That doesn’t sound safe.”
“Never mind that, Auntie Row,” Daniel cut in. “Where’d you get the sat, Bébé?”
Nosy bastard.As casually as she could, she said, “Oh crap, I forgot to tell you that another hiker got stranded too, and we’re sharing the shelter for the night.”
Cue…silence. Dagr’s hands dropped, and he shook his head, grimacing. He could see where this line of questioning was headed.
“Name?” Bran demanded.
Before she could reply, Dagr answered for himself. “Dagr Griffiths.” His deep voice held a hint of warning.
Not good. Not good. Not goodat all. Now it was her turn to cover her face with her hands, but not because she was laughing. No. It was pure mortification.
Without hesitation, he said, “Solicitor with a practice in London. Pro bono work for wildlife protection, predominantly in Wales. Avid trail runner. Assistant Ranger for Wales National Trust. I inspect trails and assess maintenance needs.
“I’m thirty-nine. Single. My mother’s passed, but my father loves me. I’m not liking your tone with Bébhinn, but I understand your worry, so I’ll let it go. I have no intention of making a pass toward your sister…niece, as she’s far too young.”
River’s snort of amusement only made her face burn hotter.Lord, take me to my father. I’m ready.
“Fine.” Bran.
“Take care of her.” Patrick.
“She snores.” Jonathan.
“I love you. Call me from Conwy.” Mom.
“Keep your hands to yourself.” Daniel.
When the call ended, I could only shrug and say, “Welcome to the O’Faolain family.”
