“You’ll wish you weren’t in a minute,” River wheezed, as out of breath as her older sister.
“Give her the short-short version,” Raven said, elbowing River.
“Right. You didn’t tell us, which we understand. Well, Raven understands. I think you’re a bitch.” River frowned.
“Hurry up, Riv!” Raven moaned.
By this point, Rowan’s head was spinning, which was not an unusual occurrence when she and her sisters were in a state of excitement.
“The boys found out that Bébhinn didn’t go on the weekend hike with her hiking club and is instead spending the weekend with a man. I’ll save you how Bran and Pat got hold of the news,” River dumped the information on fast forward.
“We’ve made them wait to call Jo’s man to track her until you got home,” Raven finished right as her brothers-in-law—or sons-in-law, as the case may be—pounded down the stairs to join them in the first floor’s main room.
Rowan felt her headache from the achingly long day ratchet from a pinch to pounding. This scenario was exactly why her daughter had asked for a moment to figure out her feelings before being bombarded with the two towheaded, scowling men currently standing in front of her.
Used to their antics after over twenty years, she knew it was essential to take an offensive position first.
Holding her hands up, palms facing the men to stop them from speaking, Rowan started with, “I know exactly where my daughter is and who she is with. I gave Bébhinn hugs, kisses, and my blessing as she left my flat yesterday morning. I appreciate that you guys have always loved and protected her, but I want to be very clear here. Raising a daughter is a wholly different experience from raising a son. Sisters?” She glanced at Raven and River for confirmation.
“Completely different,” Raven affirmed.
“You guys dodged a hormonal ticking time bomb,” River agreed.
“I love you, Bran. I love you, Patrick. You’re my sisters’ heart. You were Hugh’s heart. Bébhinn asked for time. Just a bit of it. She entrusted me with her feelings, and I will guard them.
“She is my daughter, and I will always have the final say in her care. Will you let her feel out this new relationship before sending in the troops? For her? For me?”
Bran and Patrick each took deep breaths, looking at each other, their wives, and finally back to her.
“We were afraid she hadn’t told you either,” Bran admitted.
“Our sister has never done something so grownup, or mature, or…I don’t know…not like a young girl,” Patrick’s cheeks pinkened in embarrassment, still uncomfortable with his baby sister dating.
Rowan had to remind herself that Hugh would have been worse. So much worse. Hugh trusted her, though. He may have created a hundred obstacles, but he would have relented in the end if Rowan or his daughter asked him to.
“I know it’s hard to see her as a grown woman, but she is. Are we agreed, then? You’ll step back until she comes to you herself?” Rowan looked at the two men with her sternest mom face.
“Fine,” Bran spat out sullenly.
“For the moment, Row, but she’d better come to us sooner than later,” Patrick finished.
Rowan moved to the first floor’s lovely full-sized drink bar, suddenly needing two fingers of Slane whiskey more than air. As she moved behind the bar, she noticed Bran and Patrick kissing their wives goodbye as they slipped out the front door.
“Drink?” she asked her sisters.
“A double of anything dark and at least eighty proof,” River answered.
“Three Wolves.” Raven raised her finger to order.
“How long do you think our husbands will wait before they enlist Daniel and Jonathan to stalk Bébhinn?” River asked Raven.
“I bet they’re meeting our sons now,” Raven sighed, reaching for her whiskey.
Rowan leaned her elbows on the smooth wood of the bar, moving her glass across the surface with her pointer finger.
“She came to me. She opened up, really opened up, for the first time since…since Hugh.” Rowan pressed her lips tight, willing the tears that wanted to spill a swift retreat.
“You are an amazing mother,” Raven said solemnly, touching her sister’s hand in solidarity.
