Wild Irish Rebel (2 page)

Morgan wasn't sure if she was ready to go to dinner with Patrick. After a long day on the boat, she just wanted to go home, shower, and curl up with a book. Morgan valued her space and, unknown to anyone else, she was slowly studying used business books that she purchased when she could afford them. If she was going to take on this job at Aislinn's, Morgan was determined to make it a success.

"I can't wait to get home and put my feet up, it's sure been a long day," Morgan said quickly, hoping to stop Patrick in his tracks.

A quick flicker of disappointment crossed Patrick's face and then his friendly smile returned.

"What time are you on the water in the morning?"

"Typically we are out there by five in the morning," Morgan said and then laughed when Patrick gave a dramatic shudder. "Not all of us can stay up all night drinking pints with the locals," she joked.

"It's more than that," Patrick said stiffly and Morgan immediately felt bad.

"I was just joking," she said as they reached the back door of Flynn's restaurant.

"Aye, I know. Alright then, enjoy your early night," Patrick said and patted her shoulder gently before walking away. She watched him move with an easy grace that she envied. People shouted greetings to him as he walked towards the pub and he'd wave a hand or shout back. Everyone knew and loved Patrick.

Nobody knew her.

It was enough to have her turn away and smile distractedly at Flynn's chef as he came to the back door. It would be wise of her not to forget that Patrick was the town's golden boy and she was still a mysterious outcast. It was better for her not to get too close to him.

She'd learned long ago that forming bonds brought questions.

And Morgan wasn't prepared to answer any of them.

"Day's catch," Morgan said with a smile and the chef nodded and scooped the buckets from the stoop. A waft of air filled with the tantalizing smell of butter and garlic caused her stomach to growl and she wished that she could afford to eat at Flynn's restaurant.

Instead, Morgan tucked her hair behind her shoulder and headed for her little apartment, keeping her head down to avoid meeting the eyes of people on the street. 

Chapter Three

Patrick watched Morgan
scurry up the road like a frightened mouse, her shoulders hunched and her eyes on the street in front of her. She missed the appreciative male gazes that lit upon her as well as the friendly smiles of the locals. The message was loud and clear – leave me alone.

He sighed and reached up to massage a knot in his neck. Ever since Morgan had come to town, Patrick had eyes for no other. There was just something about her that had hooked him immediately. The most obvious fact being that she was mind-numbingly gorgeous. Her slim body with moody eyes the color of the sea after a storm coupled with her shy demeanor made him want to dig beneath the surface to find out more about her.

And hadn't that gone well the last time he had tried?

Patrick groaned and made his way towards the pub as he flashed back to that night in Aislinn's courtyard when he had helped Morgan to carry some driftwood pieces to the gallery. The sun had been setting and it had cast a warm glow over her smooth skin, lighting up her eyes and drawing his gaze to her full lips. He'd felt compelled to lean down to kiss her.

He'd all but had a heart attack when she had screamed like he was hurting her. Patrick had jumped back, thinking there was a spider or something, when Baird and Aislinn had crashed through the gate. One look at Morgan had told him all he needed to know. The girl had been scared of him and Baird had quickly ushered Patrick away. 

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, one that deeply offended his strong code of ethics. He'd kept his distance from her, but unfortunately, that had done little to tamp down the fire that kindled within him whenever Morgan was around.

Patrick pushed through the door of the pub, noting that Cait must already be here if the door was unlocked.

"Cait?"

"Over here." Her sharp voice called to him from the dining area. Her short hair and slim frame only made her huge belly that much more prominent. Cait turned with her hand on her back and gestured to the stage.

"Do you think that we need to paint that wall? Move the speakers around?"

Shane had warned him about this so Patrick stepped softly.

"We just painted it last year. It looks right nice now with that deep green."

Cait crossed her arms and studied the wall and then turned to glare at him.

"You think that this is just pregnancy hormones?"

Patrick raised his arms in defense. "I didn't say that!"

Cait tapped her head with one finger and then narrowed her eyes at him again.

"Listen, I know that women like to nest towards the end of their pregnancies. My sister was a mess. She re-did almost the whole house. Since this is like your home, I'm not surprised that you are looking to make some changes is all." Patrick hoped that his voice sounded as soothing as he could make it and was rewarded with a smile from Cait.

"Aye, you're right. I'm just itching to make changes. I guess that I'm just nervous about the baby."

"You know we'll all be here to help. He's going to have the best family."

"Or she," Cait said stubbornly and Patrick laughed.

"Well, the pool is running neck and neck for a boy or a girl."

"Let me see it," Cait demanded and Patrick held up his hands again.

"I can't do that. Who is to say that you won't try to sway the outcome?"

"Sure and you don't think that I can change the baby from a boy to a girl now, do you?" Cait raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, but it is also by day and time of birth so…you know." Patrick shrugged his shoulders.

"Trust me, Patrick, if I could make this baby come any faster then I would. She will come when she damn well pleases."

"You mean he, of course," Patrick said with a smile as he pulled a sheet of paper from a folder by the bar. Cait grabbed it from his hands and scanned it.

"You picked a boy, that's why you keep saying it is a he," Cait said with a sniff and then raised an eyebrow at him. "3:33 am?"

Patrick shrugged. "It's a lucky number."

Cait laughed and then paled when she scanned the last column.

"Sure and people don't think that I'll be waiting an extra three weeks to give birth?"

Patrick cleared his throat. "Erm, well, uh, they say that the first can go longer is all."

Cait turned steely eyes on Patrick.

"The baby will come by its due date and no longer. I simply won't allow it."

Patrick snatched the paper back from her.

"And that is why you aren't supposed to see this. You can skew the results."

Cait rolled her eyes and walked away, muttering to herself. Turning back, she looked at him again.

"What's up with you?"

Patrick stopped on his way to the long wood bar that wrapped around one side of the room.

"Me?"

"Aye, you seem sad."

Unused to discussing his feelings, Patrick just shrugged his shoulders and ducked under the pass-through and, out of habit, began cleaning a few empty glasses that were stacked near the washer.

Cait came closer and upon examining his face, pulled herself up onto a stool.

"Give, or I'm reading your mind," Cait ordered.

"Hey, stay out of there," Patrick grumbled.

Cait just raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, if you must know, it's Morgan."

"I could have told you that," Cait said.

"Well, why'd you ask then?" Patrick said angrily, wiping his hands with a bar towel.

"Because I want to hear what is bothering you about Morgan in this particular instance. You've been mooning after her for months."

Insulted, Patrick felt his cheeks flush.

"I have done no such thing," he said angrily.

"Well, I just meant that I know you've had an eye on her. Nobody else does, of course," Cait said quickly.

"She's just…she's so standoffish. I can barely get a chance to know her. I was going to ask her to dinner tonight when I saw her leaving Flynn's boat but it was like she read my mind and immediately cut me off." A thought occurred to Patrick and his head shot up as he glared at Cait.

"She can't read minds, can she?" he asked, accusation lacing his voice.

This time, it was Cait who held up her hands in defense.

"I certainly don't know that, now do I? I barely know the girl."

Patrick shot Cait another suspicious glance before bending over to check the contents of the cooler.

"It is like she is wearing a STOP sign on her," Patrick grumbled as he straightened. Cait had a look of sympathy on her face as she watched him.

"Be patient with her, Patrick. She's had a rough upbringing."

"So Baird has said. Yet nobody has bothered to tell me more."

Cait shrugged her shoulders and reached across the bar to pat his hand.

"It's not our story to tell."

Chapter Four

Later that night
, Morgan uncurled herself from the corduroy loveseat that hugged one small wall of her apartment. She stretched on her tiptoes, working out the aches in her neck and back from bending over a book for hours.

Aislinn had offered Morgan a manager position at Wild Soul Gallery just after her art show in Dublin. Though Morgan had been acting in that capacity for Aislinn for a while now, she'd been reluctant to officially accept the position. Aislinn bothered her about it on a weekly basis and Morgan knew that one of these days she would have to give her a formal answer.

Morgan found herself biting her thumbnail and pulled her hand from her mouth, silently lecturing herself. She knew why she was nervous about taking the job from Aislinn. After years of being rejected from homes as a foster child, Morgan was terrified of letting anyone down.

Her sessions with Baird were slowly teaching her to have more confidence in herself and even he had told her that she was an excellent fit for the position.

It was just her own demons that she had to get past.

Sighing, she glanced back at the business book folded open on her small coffee table. Slowly, she was beginning to understand the finer nuances of a business budget, as well as the need for various marketing plans and the need for passive income streams. Helping Aislinn to begin selling prints of her work had been a boon for the business so far and one that eased some of the tension that Morgan had about taking the job.

She'd just completed the last of the business books that she had wanted to get through. Flynn had given her the go-ahead to start the job. Baird and Aislinn wanted her to take it and Morgan knew it would ease some of the load from their shoulders as they were busy decorating their new house and adjusting to life as a couple.

A little thrill of excitement slipped through her and for the first time in ages, Morgan laughed freely to herself and did a giddy little spin in her apartment.

Tomorrow, she was going to accept the job.

Chapter Five

Morgan entered the
courtyard tucked behind Wild Soul Gallery and smiled at the sight that greeted her. Aislinn must have had a painting session the night before because several canvases stood along the fence, drying in the soft light of the morning sun.  Instead of Aislinn's usual turbulent seascapes, these paintings reflected the bright colors of village life. Morgan nodded her head in approval and made a note to have them made into small prints and postcards. They would be perfect for the upcoming tourist season.

Taking out her keys, she moved to the shop door only to find it slightly open. Pushing the worn wood door wide, she stepped inside to find Aislinn rinsing her brushes in the small kitchen at the back of the gallery. Her mass of curls was piled on top of her head and she glanced back at Morgan with an easy smile.

"Morning," she said.

"Good morning. Your paintings are beautiful. Please tell me that you aren't still up from working on them?" Morgan asked as she moved further into the shop to stand beside Aislinn.

"Aye, I am at that. But, I'll be off to bed soon. I just got a bug in me last night and it was the first real balmy night we've had in a while. I couldn't resist painting under the stars," Aislinn said and took down a small towel from the shelf above the sink to pat her brushes dry.

Morgan found her mouth going dry and she struggled for a moment as she tried to form the words that she wanted to say.

Aislinn turned and peered at her, a concerned look crossing her face.

"Okay, what are you scared for? I can read you a mile away," Aislinn said.

Morgan blew her breath out on a laugh. "I keep forgetting that I can't hide stuff from you and the other ladies," she said and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, go on," Aislinn said, drying her hands on a small towel.

"If the offer still stands, I'd like to accept the position as manager of the gallery," Morgan said quickly and jumped when Aislinn let out a cheer and hugged her.

Her shoulders immediately stiffened when Aislinn wrapped her arms around her and Morgan tried to remember what Baird had taught her about returning easy affection. She wrapped her arms around Aislinn and squeezed back, knowing that this woman, with the big heart and generous soul, had saved her life.

Aislinn pulled back and studied Morgan's face.

"You're perfect for this job, you know that, right?"

Morgan just shrugged her shoulders and looked at Aislinn, surprised to feel tears prick her eyes. "I just, I don’t want to let you down. I want you to feel comfortable with me managing your work and I want you to be proud of me, and what this gallery can become." Her words came out on a rush of breath, but Morgan was happy that she said them. She was working on opening up to people and Morgan knew that honesty with her emotions was something that would help her to form better bonds with others.

Aislinn's face softened and she patted Morgan's arm.

"Listen, Morgan, I may come across as carefree and head-in-the-clouds with my business, but despite the appearance, I am a hard worker and driven to succeed. I would never put someone at the helm of my business if I didn't trust them implicitly."

Aislinn's words emboldened her, but helpless not to, Morgan reached out and did a quick scan of Aislinn's mind and feelings. What she found there made her cry just a little harder.

Aislinn believed in her completely. Not only that, she loved Morgan.

"Get what you need?" Aislinn asked, knowing that Morgan had dipped into her personal space.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that was rude of me," Morgan said, wiping her eyes.

Aislinn smiled up at her.

"You've no reason to apologize. I understand why it is particularly hard for you to believe that someone wants you to stay – believes in you. But that is in your past now."

Morgan nodded, wiping her eyes again. Straightening, she smiled at Aislinn. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"Now, let's talk salary," Aislinn said and began outlining what she had in mind for Morgan. By the time she was finished, Morgan's mouth had dropped open and she grasped the side of the counter to keep the wave of dizziness that hit her from sending her stumbling back.

"You can't be serious," Morgan said. It was more money then she'd ever dreamed of making in her life. Granted, she knew that she lived a humble life and at best, lived paycheck to paycheck. This new salary would allow her to actually put some money away in a savings account.

"I never joke about money," Aislinn said.

"This will change my life. I won't feel like I will be constantly worried about making rent!" Morgan exclaimed.

"Aye, and maybe you can even move into a bigger place," Aislinn said and Morgan immediately sobered.

"No, I like my place just as it is. It is the first spot that I can call my own," Morgan admitted. Aislinn didn't say anything, only patted her arm in understanding.

"I'm off to sleep for the day. If Baird stops in, tell him I'm at the house and not to wake me up. Unless he plans to do something about it," Aislinn said with a wicked smile and slipped out of the back door.

Morgan stayed where she was for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to process the benefits of her new role as manager. She'd never even considered a pay raise when she'd thought about taking the job and now Morgan was glad that she hadn't known about it. The amount of money she was now making would surely have put her off from ever accepting the job.

A feeling of pride slowly slipped through her. It was foreign to her, feeling proud of her accomplishments, and on a small laugh she wrapped her arms around herself and looked out at the gallery.

Today was the beginning of her new life, she decided.

Stepping into the gallery, she ran a critical eye over the room. When she'd first started working for Aislinn, Morgan had taken it upon herself to use her power to rearrange the shop. Feeling a little more confident in her ability to change things now, Morgan decided another makeover was needed.

First, she strolled through the racks of prints and towards the large windows that ran the length of the front room. They stretched from street level to ceiling height and offered passersby an unobstructed view of the artwork. When she'd first rearranged the gallery, she had done so with the intent of allowing the customer an easier browsing experience. Now, she wanted to do something to really draw the clientele in.

Morgan turned to the windows and snagged the cord that controlled the blinds. Without a second thought, she dropped the blinds to the floor so people walking by couldn't look in. Making sure that the closed sign was still up, she turned again, her hands on her hips.

"Alright then, let's start with moving the print racks back by the cash register," Morgan said out loud. "That way when a customer is ringing something up, they may make an impulse purchase. Plus, it will force them to walk through the gallery to get to the more affordable items."

With a nod, she glanced around one more time, ensuring that she was alone, and then moved the racks with her mind. They skidded across the room, just barely lifting from the floor, before coming to a rest in a neat row by the cash register. Tapping her finger on her lips, Morgan began to circle the room, now wide open from where the racks had once been. The wall above her was dominated with Aislinn's most expensive work and Morgan agreed with their placement. Leaving those untouched, she wandered towards the back room and looked at some of Aislinn's newer works.

"I wonder if I set them up so each has its own mini-space…" Morgan wondered out loud and then went to the storeroom. There, lining the walls, were close to thirty easels in various sizes.

"Perfect," Morgan said and walked out of the room, the easels following her in a neat row. Walking into the gallery, she directed each easel to a place, with the three largest positioned facing the window.

"Now, for the art," Morgan said and scanned the room, moving paintings of the Irish countryside, small town Grace's Cove, and seascapes to various points around the room. She stopped in front of a large oil painting of the cove.

"So it's you who has given me this power, is it?" Morgan murmured as she traced her finger down the edge of the painting. Aislinn had told her that all female descendants of Grace O'Malley had a touch of power, but Morgan knew little else. She knew that Aislinn wanted her to go to Fiona, the great healer, to learn more about her past. Morgan just wasn't sure if she was ready for it. It was almost as though she needed to get steady on her feet first before claiming a family history that she knew little about.

One that would give her an actual identity, she lectured herself as she lifted the painting and moved it towards the front of the shop.

It was funny, Morgan thought, that she was so reluctant to learn about her ancestry. Perhaps because she had been protecting herself for so long that she was scared to learn anything that connected her to her past. It was easier to move forward, never looking back.

Morgan settled the painting on the large easel in the middle and stood back. She sighed in pure envy of Aislinn's artistic prowess. She had painted the cove at sundown. The golden rays of the sun sliced across the sea-green water of the cove, illuminating the rock walls above the beach and casting shadows on the cliffs that hugged it. The painting was moody and beautiful at the same time; nobody who saw it would remain untouched. Morgan would be sad to see it go.

Making a note to purchase a print of this painting as her first purchase with her new salary, Morgan picked two other paintings to flank the seascape. One was a cheerful depiction of the colorful stores that lined the waterfront in downtown Grace's Cove and the other was a dreamy watercolor landscape that showcased the infamous Kerry Green pastures of Ireland.

Pleased with her work, Morgan stepped back and scanned the gallery. It looked edgy, like a funky artist's studio with a serious punch of talent. Anybody who walked past the window would stop for a second look. With a quick nod to herself, she pulled the cord to open the blinds and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN on the front door. Unlocking the door, she moved across the room and pulled the books from beneath the cash register, ready to run her numbers for the day.

Hours later, Morgan looked around her in dismay.

She'd never expected two tourist buses to unload in front of the shop that day. Her new window display had done more than she'd expected and not only had she sold the shop out of prints and postcards, but she'd also sold five paintings. Five! Morgan did a little dance as she raced across the room and locked the front door. This was their highest sales day in months and she couldn't wait to tell Aislinn the numbers. It would be enough money for Aislinn to finish the renovation of her apartment above the gallery into a studio.

Pleased with how her day had gone, Morgan finished up counting the money and placed everything in the safe in the storeroom. She was in a good mood, and contemplated going over to the pub for a pint. She rarely drank but sometimes it was fun to celebrate.

Undecided, Morgan swung outside and stopped in her tracks.