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“Would you mind?”
“Not at all, considerin’ this is partially my fault for not locking my brother in the cellar when he told me his harebrained idea.” She pulled out her phone and placed a call. “Bring the car around the back, Hammer. I’m takin’ Casper home with me.” She paused. “You stay and man the place.” She paused again. “Of course I can bloody drive, yaeejit.” She shook her head and ended the call. “Men,” she huffed.
No more than a couple of minutes later, her cell phone pinged. “C’mon, the car’s here.”
I stood and followed her.
“You sure this is what you want to do?” Maeve asked.
“I’m sure. If you’re certain you don’t mind.”
She led me out, muttering words under her breath I couldn’t decipher.
On the drive to Maeve and Hammer’s ranch, I fingered the top of the box like I had earlier. Carved into it was the number five. It was rough and crude, as if the person doing it had no experience with hand carving.Someone like Beau.
“I don’t knowabout you, but I could use a drink,” Maeve said after leading me into the sitting room just off the foyer. She leaned down, struck a long match, and held it to the logs and kindling I had no doubt Hammer had laid before they left for tonight’s party.
“That should make it cozier,” she said when the fire caught. “Now. A drink?”
“Please.”
“What’s your fancy?”
“Whatever you’ve got. Straight up.”
“I like the way you think, Casper.”
While I looked down at the box I still held in my hands, I couldn’t see it through my tears. Why now? Why hadn’t someone found this right after Beau died? When I was still in the throes of the worst grief, the worst pain I’d ever known? Then, I could’ve handled it. Now, it brought it all back. Everything I thought I’d processed, the stages of grief I climbed my way through. It all landed back in my lap like the little wooden box did.
Maeve sat beside me on one of the loveseats and handed me a glass. She set the bottle of Irish whiskey she’d also brought with her on the table in front of us and raised her glass to me.
“To you, Casper. The bravest, most badass woman I’ve ever known.”
I smiled through my tears. “I’m not brave,” I whispered.
“Of course you are, love. You’re here, aren’t ya? You’ve faced everything life has thrown at you, and you persevered.” She touched her glass to mine. “Now, drink up.”
We both downed what was in the glass, and she poured us each another.
Something dawned on me. “Where’s Mary?”
“Darrow is hosting a slumber party at King-Alexander. She, Tee-Tee, and Wellie are mindin’ all the wee ones. Did ya know Wellie was in town for the holidays?”
“I don’t know who Wellie is,” I confessed.
“Aye, well, that’s a story for another time. Suffice to say he’s Darrow’s godfather. The man’s ninety if he’s a day, and yet, I bet he’s got a handle on the brood they’re mindin’.” She motioned to the box. “Are you gonna open it?”
“Maybe another drink first.”
“Aye. Just one, though.” I noticed Maeve’s Irish brogue became harder for me to understand the more she drank. Or maybe it was the more I drank.
I finished what was in my glass and rolled my shoulders.
“You’re sure you’re wantin’ me to stay?” she asked.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to do this if you leave.”
She nodded and put her hand on my arm. “Go ahead, then.”
