In the Arms of the Wind (16 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

BOOK: In the Arms of the Wind
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“I thought I was your favorite brother-in-law, Mally!” Father Sean quipped, using the Manx nickname for Moirrey. He was standing beside his younger brother and moved to intercept the embrace his older brother’s wife had obviously intended for Danny.

“You’re me favorite priest, you are, Sean Michael Gallagher,” Moirrey said.

“Have you met Danny’s lady?” Father Sean inquired, keeping a light hold on his sister-in-law, turning her toward Kaycee.

“No,” Moirrey said, shrugging out of the loose hold. “Katy, isn’t it?”

“You know damned well it’s Kaycee,” Danny grumbled.

“Oh yes!” Moirrey said with a bright smile. She held out a slender hand. “How are you, Kaycee?”

“I’m fine,” Kaycee said, holding the smug look being sent her way as she took the limp hand in hers, returning the same flaccid shake women who recognize an enemy in the other give one another.

“Such a terrible thing to have happen the other night,” Johnny’s wife said. “It is a wonder you survived it. Aren’t you just terrified?”

Kaycee smiled nastily. “Not in the least. Danny is taking very good care of me. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Moirrey pursed her lips. “Oh I’m not, dear.” She swung her wintry green gaze to Danny. “Dan-o takes care of all his women, don’t you,
muirnín
?”

“Where’s Johnny?” Danny asked. “Didn’t he come with you?”

“He received a phone call as we drove up,” Moirrey replied, waving her hand airily. “Always business with that one.”

“That’s what keeps you in designer clothes and allows you to live in luxury,” an older woman who had just arrived said wryly.

Moirrey sighed and turned to face the speaker. “How are you, Mother Gallagher?” she asked in a tight voice.


Ni théann cuileog san mbéal a bhíos dúnta
,” Maeve Gallagher replied with sweetness.

Danny laughed at the Gaelic words, but everyone else seemed to tense, including Xavier.

“Old bitch,” Moirrey said beneath her breath, and flounced away.

“Is that your mother?” Kaycee whispered as the older woman greeted Danny’s grandfather. At his nod, she asked him what she’d said to anger Moirrey.

Danny’s eyes twinkled. “She said a fly will not go into a mouth that is closed.” He laughed again. “In other words, she told Moirrey to shut up.”

“They don’t like one another?”

“Not too many mothers like the woman they think stole their son,” Sean said softly. “Me being the exception, of course, since the woman who stole me from Ma was our Blessed Mary.”

“Suck-up,” Danny mumbled. “Always name dropping.”

Kaycee looked at Father Sean and the priest winked at her. She was beginning to like this man who was a bit older version of Danny though stouter.

“There are my boys,” Maeve said, and came over to hug first Sean then Danny. She turned her sparkling blue eyes to Kaycee. “And you must be the new femme fatale who has captured Daniel’s eye. The saints preserve you, dear!”

Kaycee was enveloped in a firm hug then was surprised when Danny’s mother snaked an arm around her waist and leaned into her.

“Can you cook, Kaycee Connor?” the older woman asked.

“Yes ma’am, I can,” Kaycee said, glancing at Danny for a clue on how to react to the intimate contact.

“Then I hope you can put some meat on his bones,” Maeve said. “He is much too thin. God knows Kathleen couldn’t even boil water without scorching it.”

“But she could dial a mean takeout,” Sean put in.

“Leave her alone, the both of you,” Danny said, and pulled Kaycee to his side, away from his mother. “You’re not going to scare her away before I even get a ring on her finger.”

Maeve drew in a breath. “That’s the way of it, Daniel?” she asked, giving Kaycee a steady look that seemed to miss nothing.

“That is the way of it,” Danny agreed.

Both Maeve and her middle son were staring intently at Kaycee—whose face had taken on a dull color.

“Well, you know what they say?” Maeve said slowly. “
Níl aon leigheas ar an ngrá ach pósadh
.” She put a hand to Kaycee’s cheek. “Be good to him, dear. He needs a woman who will be good to him.”

Kaycee could barely swallow her mouth was so dry. “I’ll do my best,” she said.

“That’s all I can ask,” Maeve said then smiled. She hooked her arm through Sean’s. “Come, Father, and let us discuss them where they can’t hear us.”

Danny stared after his mother and brother with his lips parted. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said softly.

“What?” Kaycee said, feeling his hand tighten in hers.

“I never thought to see the day that would happen,” he replied. “She just gave you her seal of approval.” He turned his face down to her. “She did. That’s exactly what she did.”

“What was it she said?” Kaycee asked. “Something about love?”

“There is no cure for love but marriage,” Danny translated. “It was her way of saying she was giving you her blessing.”

Kaycee glanced over at Maeve and Sean where they were speaking in low tones to Danny’s grandfather. When the old man looked her way, she felt his keen scrutiny all the way to the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t think he likes me,” she said.

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Danny said. “Come on and let’s get you two acquainted.”

Kaycee held back. There was something in the moody gaze of Xavier Gallagher that frightened her. He was a handsome older gentleman who bore a very strong resemblance to the 1960s western movie actor Rory Calhoun, but there was something very sinister in his stare.

“Come on, baby,” Danny said gently. “If he snaps at you, I’ll pound him into the carpet.”

“You could do much better,” the old man said as Danny drew Kaycee’s to his grandfather’s chair.

“She could,” Danny said smoothly.

“I think Mr. Gallagher was talking about me,” Kaycee said.

“The hell I was,” Xavier growled, eyes flashing. “I know him, lass. You don’t, and there ain’t no Mr. Gallagher here. You can call me Xavier, if it pleases you until the Joining, and then you have my permission to call me
Daideo
.” He looked across the room at Moirrey. “Some take it as their right to do that whether I gave permission or not!”

Kaycee saw something warm spark through the old man’s gaze and found herself smiling. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather call you Mr. Xavier.” When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “I am a Southern woman, sir. My mama would not like me to show disrespect by calling you by your first name.”

“See?” Xavier said, looking up at Maeve. “Didn’t I tell you the gal had spunk? Spunk and manners.” He held out a frail hand covered with liver spots.

Despite the tremor in the old man’s hand, his grip was stronger than the thin fingers implied and Kaycee didn’t feel the papery coolness of age most elderly flesh held. Xavier’s was warm and dry, the palm calloused.

“Keep him on a tight rein and he’ll do right by you,” Xavier said, giving Danny a hard look. “He’s been known to run wild now and again.”

“I came by that trait honestly, old man. It runs in the family,” Danny quipped.

“Disrespectful little shit,” Xavier said then banged his cane on the floor. “Where the devil is John? I’ll be dead from hunger any minute now.”

“He said to tell you he’d be in momentarily,” a silver-haired gentleman said as he and a lovely older lady joined the others. The lady was in a wheelchair but her lively eyes were dancing as they lit on Kaycee.

“Are you Dan-o’s sweetheart then?” the older lady asked as her husband wheeled her over to Xavier’s chair. “I am Bridie O’Leary, Seamus’ wife.” She held out her hand.

“Kaycee Connor,” Kaycee said. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

“Chit’s got grace and manners, Bridie,” Xavier said. “What were the odds of Daniel finding such as herself in a house of death?”

Kaycee was in the act of straightening. She whipped her head around to give Danny a surprised look.

“The old coot knows everything,” Danny told her.

“And often speaks when he should keep his yap shut,” Seamus, the lawyer, grumbled. “Been telling the old fool that for years but he won’t listen.” He too shook Kaycee’s hand.

“The man with the violet zucchetto is lurking outside too,” Bridie said. “He’s finishing one of the atrocious clove cigs he inhales like a chimney.”

“Filthy habit that boy has,” Xavier pronounced then gave Kaycee a steady look. “Do you smoke, gal?”

“No sir,” she replied. “I never have.”

“Good on you. Wise and spunky,” Xavier declared. He nudged his chin toward Moirrey. “That one does and she’ll pay for it when her mouth gets all puckered and ugly.”

“Dirty habit for a dirty mouth,” Maeve mumbled.

“Uncle Monsignor wore his uniform tonight, eh, Bridie?” Father Sean inquired. He was dressed in a check short-sleeve shirt and blue trousers.

“Like we wouldn’t know who he is without it,” Danny joked. He looked down at Kaycee. “When I was an altar boy, I once glued a propeller on his beanie.” He laughed. “Got my ass whipped big time for that one.”

“I wasn’t amused at that tomfoolery, lad, nor was your uncle,” his grandfather snapped. “You deserved that beating and worse.”

“He got it as I recall,
Daideo
,” Maeve commented.

“Couldn’t sit down for a couple of hours,” Danny admitted.

“You deserved it,” his mother echoed. She gave Kaycee an arch look. “He was always incorrigible as a boy and he hasn’t outgrown it.”

“Can we get an amen to that, bruhthus and sistuhs?” Father Sean chuckled, high-fiving his mother.

The monsignor and his older brother, the surgeon, took that moment to walk in together, laughing about something they had been discussing. Behind them was a woman Danny informed Kaycee was his Uncle Mike’s wife, Aunt Mo—short for Maureen—and behind her a tall man who looked so much like Danny Kaycee did a double take.

“My brother Johnny,” Danny mumbled, taking a sip of the Bailey’s Irish Cream in his hand.

“It’s starting to rain again, Da,” Uncle Mike said as he came to put a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Damned rain ain’t good for this bum leg of mine,” Xavier snapped.

“You need a knee replacement, Da,” his son told him.

“What mischief is he up to now, Da?” the Monsignor asked, narrowing his eyes at Danny as he leaned over to plant a kiss on his aged father’s head. “I see you have Dan-o close at hand.”

“He’s getting married,” Xavier said. “Gotta keep the little bastard within arm’s reach so he don’t muck things up and lose the gal.”

Kaycee felt her cheeks turning hot. Danny had not proposed to her but his grandfather seemed to think it was a done deal. She looked helplessly to Danny.

Danny shrugged. “We’ve no say in the matter now. They’ve made their minds up you’re what I need, so I guess I’d better go shopping for a ring tomorrow.”

“Danny!” Kaycee whispered urgently. “That isn’t funny.”

“Not meant to be, gal,” Xavier said, and began shooing the rest of the family away. “Go on with you and let me talk to the child in peace. Get to the table so an old man won’t starve to death before his time! We’ll be in when we’re through.”

Danny hesitated but his grandfather gave him a nasty look.

“It’s okay,” Kaycee said, hoping it would be.

“Don’t upset her,” Danny said as his eyes bore into the old man.

Xavier Gallagher made no reply, waiting until everyone had exited the room before he reached over to pat the chair beside him.

“Sit down and take a load off, lass,” he ordered.

Kaycee sat demurely with her knees primly together, ankles crossed, hands in her lap and chin high although she was trembling inside, her palms sweating.

“I don’t like John’s wife,” the old man said without preamble. “She was a whore when he married her and she’ll be a whore when she dies.” He narrowed his gaze. “You didn’t go to Daniel’s bed a virgin but you don’t sleep around and that’s the telling thing.”

Kaycee blinked. “I’m surprised Danny told you…”

The old man waved an imperious hand. “Daniel has told me nothing about you, lass. He’s not the only one in the family who can gather information at the drop of a hat, you know.” He leaned toward her. “I know more about you than he does and what I’ve heard, I like. If I didn’t, I’d tell you.”

“I’m sure you would,” she said.

“There’s two things you need to know before you consent to join this family. The first thing is everybody minds everybody else’s business—or tries to—and has opinions about everyone else. We’re a gossipy bunch but that’s the Irish way. We make snap decisions about outsiders and are apt to keep those opinions for as long as we live. The enemy of one is the enemy of all.” He settled back in his chair. “The second thing is you need a backbone of steel to be a woman in the Gallagher clan. You can’t be standing off to one side wringing your hands and moaning, plying a kerchief to your eyes. You hold your ground with your menfolk, take their side in all things and keep your trap shut about it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you think you can do that, Kaycee Connor?”

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