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He smiled, obviously noticing her dubiousness. The flash of his white teeth took her off guard. As usual. He was usually so serious. When he smiled, she couldn’t look away from him.
“I’m a good pilot. You can trust me.”
“I do,” she said softly. “Let me get my coat.” She reached for her coat tree, but he reached it before her. She turned, and he slid it over her shoulders. A shiver went through her when he placed a kiss on her ear.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she faced him, warmed by the heat of his stare.
She took his proffered hand, locking and slamming the door behind her. When they reached the corner of the cottage, he tugged slightly on her hand as if to get her attention. She paused.
“I meant well, Deidre,” Nick said quietly.
“What?” Deidre asked, perplexed.
“I had the best intentions,” he murmured. He nodded toward the driveway and spoke near Deidre’s ear. “It was just a chance happening. I ran into her on Main Street. I’d rather have you to myself, but I can’t take back the invitation now.”
Deidre glanced toward Nick’s car and froze. Her mother sat in the passenger seat of his sedan.
“I asked your mom to come up in the plane with us,” Nick said.
* * *
Nick watched Deidre’s face closely, seeing when the flicker of anxiety faded and was replaced by a beautiful mask. In the past, he’d been reminded of Joan of Arc when she leveled that fierce, cold, determined expression at him. Now, he was more struck by how quickly she donned the facade. How did she repress her anxiety so effortlessly?
He urged her toward his car. He opened the passenger door and Brigit stepped out and warmly kissed her daughter on the cheek. Deidre grasped Brigit’s elbows as she stiffly returned the greeting.
“No, Mom, I’ll get in the back,” Deidre insisted when Brigit started to get in the backseat.
Deidre pointedly avoided his gaze when he opened the door for her. He suppressed his regret as he walked around to the driver’s side. Deidre may be irritated at his heavy-handedness in the short term, but he still thought trying to bridge the rift between mother and daughter was the right thing to do in the long run.
“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Deidre said as Nick backed out of the driveway. He briefly met Deidre’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Her frosty glance assured him this wasn’t the type of surprise she’d anticipated this morning when he’d mentioned it.
“For me, too.” Brigit laughed. “I ran into Nick this morning as I was leaving Celino’s Bakery, and he asked me to join the two of you. I’ve never been up in a two-engine plane before. I suppose you have, Deidre?”
“I’ve been in my share of fixed-wing military transports, but nothing as luxurious as a private plane.”
“I’m a little nervous about the whole thing, but excited too,” Brigit said, twisting in her seat to see her daughter. In the rearview mirror, Nick noticed Deidre’s expression soften slightly as she met her mother’s glance. He took heart.
It would have been so much nicer to be sharing this moment alone with Deidre, but he didn’t want to be selfish.
The image of Linc’s letter—of his looping, at times unintelligible scrawl—leapt into his mind’s eye. The letter had been heartbreaking in its simple, innocent plea. The letter had also worried Nick, as disorganized and childlike as the script had been. There was little doubt that Lincoln had loved Brigit Kavanaugh. He’d considered her the one and only true love of his life
. He’d begged Nick to get to know Deidre better, to teach her about her legacy.
It had been Linc’s insinuation that Deidre and he had an opportunity for a future together, one that had been denied to him and Brigit, that had truly alarmed him. Even if Linc had noticed his attraction to Deidre before he died, wasn’t that an odd thing for him to suggest—that two strangers could share the future that the woman he loved and he couldn’t?
Nick had been blown away when he’d read that part of Linc’s letter. It underlined his worry that Linc hadn’t been in his right mind when he changed the will. The man Nick had known since he was a boy would never have done something so impulsive, nor would he have made such naive assumptions about Deidre and him.
Nick had described to Deidre the carefree aspect of Linc’s personality that surfaced at Christmastime, but Linc was typically not a whimsical man. Nick couldn’t help but be worried that the change in Lincoln’s will was more the result of a dying man’s wish for a family than a rational, intelligent decision made with DuBois Enterprises and its thousands of employees in mind.
He couldn’t tell Deidre that, though—couldn’t show her Linc’s letter. She’d jump to the conclusion it was her he doubted. He no longer even remotely suspected her of anything underhanded in her dealings with Lincoln. Deidre had truly been ignorant all this time of the identity of her suspected natural father. She’d only had Lincoln’s best interests at heart once she’d met him.
He was certain of Deidre. But he was far from confident that Deidre wouldn’t equate his concern about the soundness of Linc’s decision-making at the end of his life with doubts about her character. Worse, she might think that his concerns about Lincoln’s state of mind in regard to the will dimmed Lincoln’s faith that she was his daughter.
His ruminations were put on hold when they arrived at the small airport. He showed Deidre and her mother onto his Cessna and began his preflight check, glad to hear Deidre and Brigit exchanging polite conversation about the changes to the Harbor Town area. Deidre even laughed a time or two as Brigit reminded her of several childhood moments.
The weather conditions were perfect. Nick took the plane southward along the shoreline and then banked west, following the tip of a finger-shaped, sparkling Lake Michigan. The tower had denied him permission to fly in too close to Chicago, but even several miles away they could see the clean, sharp lines of the skyline as the Cessna glided over the brilliant blue lake.
