“Define ‘okay,’” he mutters. “Declan’s pissed, but what else is new? They’re waiting for us at Tara.”
“Us?” I raise an eyebrow. “You told him I was coming?”
Kane shrugs. “I figured it was better than just showing up with you. Besides, Wren likes you, and she keeps Declan in line.”
“Great,” I say, feeling suddenly nervous about voluntarily inserting myself into this family drama. “So, when do we leave?”
“Now, if that works for you. It’s about an hour’s drive.”
I nod, grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door. “Let me just get my purse, and we can go.”
I head back upstairs, collecting my purse and checking that I have my wallet and phone. I’m halfway down the stairs when Kane calls up to me.
“We should probably stop for fuel on the way. Rental car’s running low.”
“There’s a gas station in the village,” I say, reaching the bottom of the stairs. “We can stop there.”
We lock up the cottage and head to his rental car. The morning is bright but chilly, the kind of deceptive Irish sunshine that looks warm but carries a bite. Kane opens the passenger door for me with an exaggerated bow that makes me roll my eyes.
“Such a gentleman,” I tease as I slide into the seat.
“Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”
As we drive toward the village, I’m struck by how comfortable this feels—being with him, heading out to what is essentially a treasure hunt with a family I barely know. It’s certainly not what I had in mind when I fled to Ireland, but I’m happy that I’m with him.
We stop at the small gas station in the village. While Kane fills the tank, I pop into the attached shop to buy some snacks for the drive. When I return with arms full of chips, chocolate, and water bottles, Kane looks amused.
“Planning for a siege?” he asks.
“Road trip essentials,” I corrected him. “I get cranky when I’m hungry.”
“Noted,” he says seriously. “Feed Kori regularly toavoid mauling.”
I punch his arm lightly as we get back in the car. “Just drive, Murphy.”
As we leave the small coastal village behind and join the main road heading inland, I feel a tightness in my chest that has nothing to do with my asthma. I’m nervous, I realize. Not just about meeting Kane’s family again under these circumstances, but about what they might find. What if this sister doesn’t want to be found? What if their father is dead after all? What if this whole thing leads to more pain for Kane?
“You’re thinking very loudly over there,” Kane observes, glancing at me as he drives.
“Just wondering what we’re going to find,” I admit.
“That makes two of us,” he says, his hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. “Whatever it is, I’m glad you’re coming along.”
“Even though you barely know me?”
“Sometimes strangers see us more clearly than the people who think they know us best,” he says, surprising me with the insight. And it takes me back to the plane ride when he sat down beside me.
I turn to look at the passing landscape—rolling green hills dotted with sheep, stone walls tracing ancient boundaries, the occasional cluster of houses forming tiny villages. Ireland feels timeless in a waythat soothes something in me, as if my personal drama is just a minor blip in centuries of human experience.
An hour later, we’re approaching the Hill of Tara. My chest feels tight again, and I reach into my purse for my inhaler only to realize with a sinking feeling that I’ve left it on the bedside table.
“Everything okay?” Kane asks, noticing my frantic searching.
“I forgot my inhaler,” I explained, trying to stay calm. My asthma isn’t usually severe, but the stress and excitement might trigger an attack. “It should be fine as long as I don’t have to run up any hills.”
Kane frowns. “Is it serious? Should we go back?”
“No,” I say quickly, not wanting to delay him meeting his family. “It’s fine. I’ll take it easy.”
