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When he hung up, he filled his chest with air. He’d never had high blood pressure, but he’d wondered about the stress these last few days. Sleeping had been difficult and moving around was like walking through water. Bets was the same. They all needed Malcolm to go down. Hard.
He checked on Bets. She was wiping tears and talking into Ghislaine’s camera phone. Her natural beauty caught him by the throat. Her laugh lines were more pronounced around her eyes and lips, but her blue eyes shone brightly with a mother’s love as she said, “Veritas, I know you probably don’t take gifts, but I’d really love to make you some of my special gooseberry jam or even send you a dozen of my prize roses next summer.”
Shewouldthink of that, and he touched his chest as his heart swelled madly. God, he was so lucky to have her.
“You can’t know how much it means that you returned to Ireland to do another mural to help my son, Liam,” she continued, wiping more tears, “and to show how dangerous Malcolm Coveney is. Not only to my son but to the Sorcha Fitzgerald Arts Center and the rest of Ireland. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Since Wilt had recorded the conversation with Malcolm’s threats and the lawyers had submitted it as evidence, they could publicly speak about his intimidation.Way to go, Bets, he thought. Then she went from loving mother to fierce warrior. “And to all of you working with Malcolm Coveney and protecting him, wake the hell up. You’re next.”
“That was terrific, Bets!” Ghislaine said, already typing on her phone after stopping the video. “I already have media requests pouring in based on this new development, so let’s talk through a plan for today until Liam comes home. Be a nice chance to remind people of what we’re facing here. Maybe people will pay more attention to the sheep incident now.”
“Give me a second to talk to Linc,” Bets said, walking over to him.
She put her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, looking vulnerable and overwhelmed. They each knew what the other was thinking, and for a moment, the look that passed between them said it all. Then she smiled.
“You go on and do your thing, sugar,” he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her softly on the mouth, feeling his heart lift.
“What are you going to do, cowboy?” she asked, caressing his jaw.
“Find a hammock and shut my eyes for a bit.” He gave a full-fledged laugh and slapped his knee. “No, wait! That’s what I’ll do after we take Malcolm down. Taylor sounded positive about their work down there.”
“Good!” She rubbed his chest, making him aware of how tense he’d been. “You should take some time. I know you’ve been acting all strong for me—”
“We take turns when we need to.” He tipped up her chin. “Partners, remember?”
She swallowed thickly. “The best imaginable. I love you so much!”
“I love you too.” He kissed her soundly again. “Go kick butt.”
“What are you really going to do while I’m off with the media?”
He scratched his jaw, which he hadn’t shaved. “I’m going to do my part to raise some spirits around here. This village has been hit hard. We need to come together and find some happiness again. Liam coming home will be a big part of that.”
Her eyes swam with tears. “Go on before I completely lose it.”
Blowing her a kiss, he headed for the door.
“Linc?” she called.
He spun around. “Missing me already?”
“Yeah.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Thanks for coming to Ireland too. You’re like Veritas, you know. You came when we needed you. Me especially.”
Well, shit, now he was going to bawl like a baby. “You started it all, Bets, with your big vision. I was only too happy to help. Besides, I couldn’t resist you from the moment I saw you standing in the porch light with sadness on your face. Even though I was sad myself, I wanted to wipe yours away and make you laugh.”
“Which you do. Always. I’ll see you later.”
“Count on it.”
He thought about that first night—how he’d invited her out to dinner, wanting to turn her sadness to joy. She hadn’t known he’d meant in Paris. They’d had one hell of a time. He should take her to Paris for a few days once this was over. They could both use a break.
The idea of a Paris weekend lifted his spirits. Hell, they’d bring Liam and Taylor. Shoot, he should probably take over an island or something and fly the whole village out to a resort for some time off and as a way of showing gratitude.
Because, other than a few bad apples, the people of Caisleán stuck together through thick and thin.
He’d been looking for a community and people like this all his life, and God, was he happy he’d found them. When he left their own war room, the first person he visited was his daughter—the one who’d brought him to Ireland. Being an overprotective father had worked in his favor. His whole world had opened up here—because of Ellie—and he made sure to tell her, reducing them both to a few tears before he moved on to continue spreading good cheer.
He found Angie painting in her studio with baby Emeline napping in a bassinet beside the easel. Later, he came upon Megan with her hands covered with clay as she shaped a vase while she told him about Ollie’s recent attempt to ride his horse bareback. He pledged to teach the boy how to lasso before heading outside to Kathleen’s shed.
