Jewels of the Sun

CHAPTER Twenty

"I'm not going after her, chasing her like a puppy."

Shawn continued to fry up fish and chips while Aidan iced down his abused nose in the kitchen. "So you've said, ten or twelve times in the last twenty minutes."

"Well, I'm not."

"Fine. Be a bloody brick-headed idiot."

"Don't you start on me." Aidan lowered the ice pack. "I can hit you back."

"And so you have, more times than I care to count. Doesn't make you less of an idiot."

"Why am I an idiot? She's the one who comes swaggering in here, peak hour, too, looking for trouble, badgering me, poking at me, and breaking me fucking nose."

"That's got you, doesn't it?" Shawn slid the golden hunks of fish and servings of chips onto plates, added a scoop of slaw, and garnished them with a bit of parsley. "That after all these years and all the fine battles, it's a woman half your size who did the deed."

"'Twas a lucky punch," Aidan muttered as his pride throbbed in time with his nose.

"Sucker punch, more like," Shawn corrected. "And you're the sucker," he added as he swung out the door with the orders.

"So much for family loyalty." Disgusted, Aidan got up to root through cupboards for some aspirin. His face ached like a bitch in heat.

Under other circumstances, he supposed he'd have admired Jude for her fine show of temper, and her aim. But he couldn't find it in him at the moment.

She'd hurt him, face, pride, and heart. He'd never had a woman break his heart before, and didn't know what the devil to do about it. He'd understood, at least in part, that he'd bungled things the night of the ceili. But he'd been so sure, so confident, that he had fixed all that the night before.

Romance and teasing, perseverance and persuasion. What else did the damn woman want, damn it to the devil and back again? They fit together, anyone could see that.

Everyone, it seemed, but Jude Frances Murray herself.

How could she not want him when he wanted her so much he could barely breathe? How could she not see the life they'd make together when he could see it clear as glass?

It was all to do with that first marriage of hers, he thought darkly. Well, he'd gotten over it, why couldn't she?

"She's just being stubborn," he said to Shawn when his brother came back in.

"That makes her a perfect match for you, then."

"It's not being stubborn to go after what you know is right."

Shawn shook his head and began to build the sandwiches needed out in the pub. The place was a madhouse, he mused, with people staying long past their usual time, and others coming in as they got word of the situation. They'd asked Michael O'Toole and Kathy Duffy to lend a hand at the bar, and Brenna was on her way. He didn't think Aidan would be in the mood for pulling pints and making conversation for a bit longer yet.

"No, I suppose it's not," he said after a moment. "But there are ways and ways of going about it with a woman."

"A lot you know about women."

"More than you, I wager, as I've never had one plant her fist in my face."

"Neither have I up till now." Even half frozen from the ice, his nose was pounding like a kettledrum. "It's not the reaction a man expects when he asks a woman to marry him."

"It wasn't the asking, I'd say, but the way of asking."

"How many ways do you ask?" Aidan demanded. "And why is this my fault, I'd like to know?"

"Because it's pitiful obvious that she loves you, and needs love in return. So if you hadn't made a mess of it, she wouldn't have said no and broken your nose."

While Aidan gaped at him, Shawn strode out to deliver the next order. He started to leap up and follow, then calculated he'd spread enough of his personal business out into the pub and village that day. So he paced impatiently and waited for Shawn to come back in.

He carried empty plates this time and slid them into the sink. "Make yourself useful and wash up, would you? I've more fish and chips wanted."

"Maybe I made a mess of it the first time,'' Aidan began. "I admit that. I even talked it over with Darcy."

"Darcy?" All Shawn could do was roll his eyes to heaven. "Now I can say without a doubt you are an idiot."

"She's Jude's friend, and a woman."

"Without a single romantic bone in her body. Forget the washing, I'll tend to it later," he continued as he dredged fish in flour. "Sit down and tell me how you went about it."

He wasn't used to his younger brother issuing directions, and he wasn't sure how it sat with him. But he was a desperate man ready to take desperate measures. "Which time?"

"However many there were, starting with the first." Shawn slid the fish and potatoes into the oil and began to make a fresh batch of slaw.

He listened without a word while he worked. When the order was finished before his brother was, he held up a finger, surprising Aidan into silence, and went out again to serve it.

"Now, then." When he came back, he sat, folded his arms on the table, and gave Aidan a level look. "I'm taking ten minutes here to tell you what I think. But first I have a question. In all this telling her what you wanted and how it would be and what should be done, did you happen to mention that you love her?"

"Of course I did." Hadn't he? Aidan shifted in his chair, moved his shoulder. "She knows I love her. A man doesn't ask a woman to be his wife unless he loves her."

"First off, Aidan, you didn't ask her at all, but told her, and that's a different matter entirely. Plus it seems to me the one who asked her before didn't love her, else he wouldn't have broken his vows to her before a year was up. Certainly she'd have no reason to think he loved her, would she?"

"No, but-"

"Did you tell her or not?"

"Maybe I didn't. It's not so easy just to blurt such a thing out."

"Why?"

"It just isn't," Aidan muttered. "And I'm not some bloody Yank who'd leave her that way. I'm an Irishman who keeps his word, a Catholic who thinks of marriage as a sacrament."

"Oh, well, then, that'll convince her. If she marries you it'll be a matter of your honor and your religion that keeps you with her."

"That's not what I meant." His head was starting to spin. "I'm just saying she should trust me not to hurt her the way she's been hurt."

"Better, Aidan, she trusts you to love her as she's never been loved."

Aidan opened his mouth, shut it again. "When did you get so smart?"

"Nearly thirty years of watching people, and avoiding the situation you find yourself in. I don't think she's a woman who's been given love and respect in equal measure. And she needs them."

"I have both for her."

"I know you do." Sympathy stirred and Shawn gave Aidan's arm a squeeze. "But she doesn't. It's time to humble yourself. That's the hardest thing for you, I know. She'll know it, too."

"You're saying I have to grovel."

Now Shawn flashed a grin. "Your knees'll take it."

"I suppose they will. Can't be more painful than a broken nose."

"Do you want her?"

"More than anything."

"If you don't tell her just that, if you don't give her your heart, Aidan, if you don't bare it for her and give her the time to trust what she sees there, you'll never have her."

"She might turn me away again."

"She might." Shawn rose, laid a hand on Aidan's shoulder. "It's a risk. I don't recall you ever being afraid of taking a chance."

"Then here's another first for you." Aidan reached up, laid his hand on his brother's. "I'm terrified." A little shaky in the gut, he rose. "I'll take a walk if you can hold things here. Get my mind clear before I go see her." Then he touched his fingers gingerly to his nose. "How bad is it?"

"Oh," Shawn said cheerfully. "It's bad. And it'll get worse."

Her hand hurt like six devils. If she hadn't been so busy cursing, she would have worried she'd broken something in it. But as she could still make a fist, she assumed it was only jarred from ramming into the concrete block that disguised itself as Aidan Gallagher's head.

The first thing she did was grab the phone and change her airline reservations. She was leaving the very next day. Not that Aidan was running her off-oh, no indeed. She just wanted to get to Chicago, handle what needed to be handled quickly, efficiently, and personally before she came back.

Then she would plant herself in Faerie Hill Cottage and live a long and happy life doing as she chose, when she chose, and with whom she chose. And the single person who was not on that list of choices was Aidan Gallagher.

She called Mollie and arranged for her to dog-sit Finn.

Already missing him and riddled with guilt for leaving him behind, she picked him up and hugged him.

"You'll have a wonderful time at the O'Tooles'. You'll see. And I'll be back before you know I'm gone. I'll bring you a present." She kissed his nose.

Since she was in no mood to work, she went upstairs to pack. She wouldn't need much. Even if the business of relocating took a week or two, she had clothes in Chicago. She'd make do with no more than her carry-on and her laptop and feel very cosmopolitan.

Once she was on the plane, she'd settle back with a glass of celebratory champagne and make a list of all that needed to be done.

She'd persuade her grandmother to come back with her, to spend the rest of the summer. She would even try to convince her parents that they should come visit so they could see that she was settled and happy.

Everything else was just practical. Selling her car, the furniture, shipping the few things she loved. It was surprising how little of what she'd collected in the past few years she really loved.

Closing bank accounts, she mused as she set her carry-on beside the closet door. Finalizing paperwork. Arranging for a permanent change of address. A week, she calculated. Ten days at most, and it would be behind her.

The sale of the condo could be completed by mail and by phone.

It was all arranged, she thought. She'd take Finn and the keys to the cottage to Mollie in the morning, then drive to Dublin. Then she looked around and wondered what she would do with herself until morning.

She would work in the garden for now, so she could leave it in absolutely perfect shape, without a single weed or faded bloom. Then she'd go visit Maude one more time just to let her know she was going away for a few days.

Pleased with the idea, Jude gathered her gardening tools and gloves, slapped her hat on her head, and went out to work.

Aidan hadn't intended to walk by Maude's grave; but he usually followed impulse. When his feet took him there, he loitered, hoping, he supposed, to find inspiration-or at least a bit of sympathy for his situation.

He crouched down to trail his fingers over the flowers Jude had left there.

"She comes to see you often. She has a warm heart, and a generous one. I have to hope it's warm enough, generous enough, to spare a bit for me. She's your blood," he added. "And though I didn't know you as a young woman, I've heard tales that tell me you had a quick temper and a hard head-begging your pardon. I've come to see she takes after you, and I have to admire her for it. I'm going to see her now, and ask her again."

"Then don't make the same mistakes I did."

Aidan looked up, and into sharp green eyes. He straightened slowly. "So, you're real as well."

"As real as the day," Carrick assured him. "Twice she's said no. If she says so again, you're of no use to me, and I've wasted my time."

"I'm not asking her to be of use to you."

"Still and all, I've only one chance left. So have a care, Gallagher. I can't weave a spell here. It's forbidden, even to me. But I've a word of advice."

"I've had plenty of that today, thanks."

"Take this as well. Love, even when pledged, isn't enough."

Annoyed, Aidan dragged a hand through his hair. "Then what the devil is?"

Carrick smiled. "It's a word that still sticks a bit in my throat. It's called compromise. Go now while she's being charmed by her own flowers. It might give you an edge." The smile widened into a grin. "The way you're looking right now, you'll need all the help you can come by."

"Thanks very much," Aidan muttered even as his visitor vanished in a silver shimmer of air.

Shoulders hunched, he started toward the cottage. "My own brother calling me a brickhead. Sneering faeries insulting me. Women punching me in the face. How much more am I to swallow in one bloody day?"

As he spoke, the sky darkened, and thunder rumbled ominously. "Oh, go ahead, then." Aidan glanced up with a scowl. "Shake your fist. This is my life I'm dealing with here."

He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to forget that his face ached like one huge bad tooth.

He came around the back, had nearly knocked on the kitchen door when he remembered Carrick had said she was with her flowers. Since she wasn't at the ones there, it meant she was in the front.

Breathing slow to steady his nerves, he circled the house.

She was singing. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never heard her sing. And though she'd claimed to do so only when nervous, he didn't think that was what brought her voice out.

She was singing to her flowers, and it stirred his heart. She had a sweet and a tentative voice that told him she didn't trust it, not even when she thought no one could hear.

It was a pretty sight she made, kneeling by her blossoms, singing quietly of being alone in a festive hall, with her foolish straw hat tipped over her face and the pup curled sleeping on the path behind her.

She didn't seem to notice the dark clouds brewing overhead, the threat of storms grumbling. She was a steady and bright spot in a magic little world, and if he hadn't already loved her, he would have tumbled at that moment. But he didn't know how to explain to either of them the why of it.

His heart was simply hers. He knew stepping forward with nothing to guard it was the greatest risk a man could take.

He stepped forward, and said her name.

Her head whipped up, her eyes met his. He was sorry to see that soft and content expression vanish from her face, to be replaced by a cold and steely anger. But it wasn't entirely unexpected.

"I've finished talking to you."

"I know it."

Finn woke and with a joyful bark, scrambled to greet him. That's what he'd expected of her, he realized. That she would always be happy to see him, that she would rush forward eager for his attention.

It was hardly a wonder, he thought, she'd given him the boot when he'd treated her a bit like a puppy.

"I have a few things to say to you. The first of them being I'm sorry."

That threw her off, but not enough to soften her. It might have taken her years to learn how to use her spine, but she knew now. "Fine. Then I'll apologize for hitting you."

His nose was swollen, and bruising was already spreading under his eyes. Had she actually done that? She found the fact horrifying and shamefully thrilling.

"You broke my nose."

"I did?" Shock struck first, and she took a step toward him before she snapped herself back. "Well, you deserved it."

"I did, yes." He tried a smile. "You'll be the talk of the village for years."

Because she discovered a dark place inside her that found delight in that, she spoke primly. "I'm sure everyone will find something more interesting to talk about soon. Now, if that's all, you'll have to excuse me. I need to finish this and see to a number of other things before I leave tomorrow."

"Leave?" He recognized panic now when it grabbed him by the throat. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to Chicago in the morning."

"Jude-" He started forward, stopped short, warned back by the flash in her eye. He wanted to kneel, to beg and plead, imagined he would before it was done. "Is your mind set on it?"

"Yes, it is. I've made the arrangements."

He turned away to gather himself. He looked out over the hills, and toward the village, the sea. Home. "Would you tell me if you're going because of me, or because it's what you want?"

"It's what I want. I'm just-"

"All right, then." Shawn had said he'd be humbled, and so he was. He turned back, walked toward her slowly. "I've things to say, things to tell you. I'm only asking you to listen."

"I am listening."

"I'm getting to it," he muttered. "You could give a man a moment when he's changing his life right in front of your eyes. I'm asking for another chance, even if I don't deserve it. I'm asking you to forget the way I put things twice before and listen to how I put them now. You're a strong woman. That's something you're just finding out, but you're not a hard one. So I'm asking you to put aside your anger for just a moment so you can see-"

When he trailed off, looking perplexed and flustered, she only shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I accepted your apology, you accepted mine."

"Jude." He grabbed her hand, squeezed hard enough to have her eyes widen in surprise. "I don't know how to do this. My stomach's in knots over it. It never mattered be fore, don't you see? I've got words. I've barrels of words, but I don't know the ones to use with you, because my life's in the balance."

She'd hurt him, Jude realized. Not just physically. She'd slapped his ego, humiliated him in front of his friends and family. And still he was sorry. Part of her did soften now. "You've already said it, Aidan. We'll put it aside, just as you said, and forget it happened."

"I've never said it, and that's the problem." There was temper in his eyes again, and the edge of it in his voice. Overhead, thunder crashed like balls of lead. "Words have magic. Spells and curses. Some of them, the best of them, once said change everything. So I haven't said them, hoping, in a cowardly way, that you would change first, and I'd just tend to you after. I'm sorry for that, too. I do want to take care of you." He lifted a hand to her cheek. "I can't help it. I want to give you things and show you places, and to see you happy."

"You're a kind man, Aidan," she began.

"It has nothing to do with kindness. I love you, Jude."

He saw her eyes change, and the fact that it was shock and wariness that came into them only showed him how far he'd gone wrong. There was nothing left to do but bare his heart. "I'm lost in love with you. I think I was the moment I saw you, maybe somehow before I ever did. You're it for me. There was never one before, there'll never be another after."

She felt a desperate need to sit down, but there was only the ground and it seemed much too far away. "I'm not sure- I don't know. Oh, God."

"I won't rush you the way I did before. I'll give you all the time you need. I'm only asking you to give me the chance. I'll settle things here, then come to Chicago. I can open a pub there."

She had to press a hand to her head to make certain it stayed on her shoulders. "What?"

"If that's where you need to be, that's fine."

"Chicago?" It didn't matter about her head now. Nothing mattered but the man gripping her hand and looking into her eyes as if everything in the world he wanted was centered there. "You'd leave Ardmore and come to Chicago?"

"I'd go anywhere to be with you."

"I need a minute." She tugged her hand free to walk to the garden gate, lean on it while she caught her breath.

He loved her. And because of it he would give up his home, his legacy, his country to follow her. Not asking her to be what he wanted, what he expected. Because she was enough just as she was.

And more, he was offering to be what she wanted. What she expected.

A miracle.

No, no, she wouldn't think of loving and being loved in return just as strongly, just as deeply, just as desperately as a miracle. They deserved each other, and the life they would make.

So she would just consider it right.

She'd found Jude Murray, all right. And a great deal more.

Her heart was steady when she turned back. Steady and quiet and calm. He didn't quite know what to make of the little smile on her face.

"You said you needed a wife."

"And I do, so long as she's you. I'll wait as long as you need me to wait."

"A year?" She lifted her brows. "Five, ten?"

The knots in his stomach twisted like snakes. "Well, I'll hope I can persuade you sooner."

Dreams took risks, she thought. And courage. Her deepest dream was standing, waiting for her answer.

"Tell me again that you love me."

"With all my heart, with everything I am or will be, I love you, Jude Frances."

"That's very persuasive." With her eyes on his, she walked back down the garden path. "When I realized you were attracted to me, I thought I would have an affair, something hot and reckless and daring. I'd never had one before, and here was this big, gorgeous Irishman more than willing to cooperate. Isn't that what you wanted, too?"

"I did-thought I did." Panic snuck back up on him. "Damn it, it isn't enough."

"That's convenient, because the trouble was-is-" she corrected, "I'm just not built for reckless affairs, not in the long run. So even before that first night, when you carried me upstairs, I was in love with you."

"A ghra." But when he reached for her, she shook her head and stepped back.

"No, there's more. I'm going back to Chicago, not to leave but to sell my condo and settle my business so that I can move here permanently. It wasn't for you, and it still isn't for you that I've chosen to do this. It's for me. I want to write. I am writing," she corrected. "A book."

"A book?" Everything in his face went brilliant, with a pride, she realized, that astonished her. And sealed everything. "That's wonderful. Oh, it's what you're meant to do."

"How do you know?"

"Because just saying it makes you happy. It shows. And you've a lovely way of telling a story. I said so before."

"Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, you did. You said it before I could."

"I'm so pleased for you."

"I've always wanted to, but I didn't have the courage to do it, to even consider it. Now I do." Now, she understood, she had the courage for anything. For everything. "I want to write, and I'm going to be good at it. I want to write here. This is my place now. This is my home."

"You weren't leaving?"

"Not for long, but I was determined not to come back to you. I found my place here. My place, Aidan. It had to be mine first. And I found a purpose. That had to be mine, too."

"I understand that." He reached out, just touched the ends of her hair. "I do, for I was the same. Can you accept that I know that, and want all of that for you, and still want the rest?"

"I can accept that I found my place, my purpose, and now I've found you. So it's you I'll come back to. And I'm going to be good, very good, at all of it." This time she reached out, took his hand. "You've given me the words, Aidan, and the magic of them. I'll give them back to you. Because what we start here, today, we start on even ground."

She paused, waiting for the fears and the doubts, but all that came into her was joy. "There was never one before," she said quietly. "Though I wanted there to be, tried to make myself into someone so that there would be, because I was afraid to be alone. Now I've learned how to be alone, and trust myself, to like myself. I won't be coming to you weak and malleable and willing to always do what I'm told so as not to make trouble."

With his heart humming, he touched a finger lightly to his battered nose. "I think I've got that part, darling."

She laughed, and wasn't the least bit sorry. "Once I take you, there'll never be one after." She held out her other hand. "Forever, Aidan, or never."

"Forever." He took her hands, bringing first one, then the other to his lips, then on a deep breath, he knelt at her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Doing it proper, finally. There's no pride here," he told her, and his heart was in his eyes for her. "I don't have a bag of jewels taken from the sun to pour at your feet. I've only this."

He reached into his pocket to take out a ring. The band was thin, and old. The little diamond in its center caught a stray beam of light and sparkled between them, a promise once kept, waiting to be given and kept again.

"It was my mother's mother's, and the stone is small, the setting simple. But it's lasted. I'll ask you to take it, and me, for my love for you is beyond measure. Belong to me, Jude, as I belong to you. Build a life with me, on even ground. Whatever that life is, wherever it is, is ours."

She promised herself she wouldn't cry. At such a moment she wanted her eyes clear. The man she loved was kneeling at her feet, and offering her- everything.

She knelt with him. "I'll take it, and you, and treasure both. I'll belong to you, Aidan, as you belong to me." She held out her hand so he could slip the ring on, a circling promise to the heart. "And the life we build starts now."

As he slid the ring on her finger, the clouds whisked away and the sun poured out light bright as jewels.

And kneeling there among the flowers, they didn't notice the figure watching from the window, or the wistful way she watched them.

They reached for each other. Lips met. And as fresh pain exploded, Aidan sucked in his breath.

"Oh! It hurts." Jude eased back, struggling not to laugh as she stroked his cheek. "Come inside, we'll put some ice on it."

"I've a better cure than that." He rose and scooped her up into his arms. "Just have a bit of a care, and we'll be fine."

"Are you sure it's broken?"

He slanted her a look. "Aye, since it happens to be attached to my face, I'm sure. And there's no need to look so pleased about it." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he paused at the front door. "And I'm thinking, since you are, this might be just the time to remind you, Jude Frances, you're owing me two hundred pounds."

"And I'm thinking you'll make it worth my while."

She lifted her hand, watched the way the little diamond sparkled in the sun. Then reaching out, reaching forward, she opened the door herself.