Night Of The Blackbird

“Ah, now, my weapon, if I have one, is the pen, you know. Or the computer, these days.”

“Whatever.”

“You never understood me, love.”

“I think I understood enough.”

He leaned against the bar next to her. Too close. “You need to spend time with me, Moira.”

“Can’t, this trip. Sorry, I’m in love.”

“Ah, yes, with perfect Michael.”

“He’s quite wonderful, really.”

“As good as me?”

She was surprised to find herself moving closer to him, eyes slightly narrowed. “Better. So damned good, in fact, that it was only my father’s presence that kept me from full-fledged sex on the bar.”

To her annoyance, he started to laugh.

“I’m so glad I always amuse you.”

He shook his head, sobering. “Sorry. It’s just that…well, if he were that good, you wouldn’t have felt the need to tell me.”

She straightened, staring at him with all the cool dignity with which she could cloak herself. “No, no, it’s different this time. Sure there were those years when I just hopped from man to man, affair to affair, my heart bleeding for you, but things change. Now I’m in love.”

“Sure you are. And like hell you hopped from man to man. You want a dossier on a man before you go to dinner with him.”

She turned, clearing away empty glasses. “Things change, your ego doesn’t. Did you really think you were the only man who ever made me happy and fulfilled?”

She was surprised at the seriousness with which he spoke. “I didn’t think I could ever make you happy, and that’s why I never stayed,” he said. His tone changed instantly, so that she thought she might have imagined the strange passion in his first comment. “Now, as to the fulfilled part…come see me. I understand the love of your life travels all the time, as well. On your business, of course, but still…I’ll be just down here, right in ye olde guest quarters, for the next few days. Come see me when you admit to yourself that it’s exactly what you want to do.”

He tipped an imaginary hat to her and started around the bar.

“That will be a freezing day in hell, Danny boy,” she called softly after him.

She couldn’t see his face as he left her, but she thought she saw his shoulders shaking slightly.

He was laughing.

He stopped, suddenly and came back to her, leaning against the bar. “A freezing day in hell before you admit it—or before you do it?” he asked.

She didn’t respond fast enough.

“I feel a chill coming on,” he said softly, and once again turned to thread his way through the crowd and head for the stage.

This time, he didn’t turn back.

She was tempted to throw a glass.

Is it only one lion that frightens you?

Josh’s words came back to haunt her. She wasn’t frightened, she was furious. And she was furious because…

Because she was afraid of lions. Or at least…

One lion.

Yet, turning to look at that lion, she realized he wasn’t looking at her. Danny was playing the drums again, apparently enjoying his time with the band. His interest seemed to be totally on the task at hand.

Yet when he looked up, she got the sense that he was watching the room. Not casually. It was as if he was looking for something, or someone, in particular.

Moira looked around. The room had gotten busy. Couples, nine-to-fivers easing down after work, the old crowd at the bar, a few loners at tables. One man alone, in a casual suit, sitting at a table in the far corner. Business traveler, probably.

Everyone seemed as ordinary as ever.

So just who was Danny looking for?

Josh’s word flitted through her mind again.

Lions.

That was it. Danny was watching the room like a lion. Lying in the sun. Tail twitching. Calculating. Watching…

As if he could spring into action at any moment. She couldn’t help but wonder, just what prey was Danny watching?

Strangely, she felt a sense of fear. As if something near and dear to her was somehow being threatened.

She turned to a man at the bar who had asked her for something, determined then to shake her feelings. It was Danny doing this to her, damn him.

Just Danny.

4

Surprisingly, it turned into a very nice night.

Michael and Josh returned to the bar after having tea with her mother and grandmother. Josh was happy; he had spoken to his wife, who was coming up with the babies the next day. Michael had looked in on her nieces and nephews as they slept and insisted on telling her just how adorable they were, as if she didn’t know that already. That always sat well with her. Love me, love my dog, she realized. She didn’t have a dog, but the same thought applied. She might be a bit wary of her family, but she did take tremendous pride in them, and she couldn’t help but be pleased that Michael seemed to be fitting in so well.

He really was wonderful. He got behind the bar for a while. He chatted with her dad’s friends as if he had known them all his life. He had a conversation with Patrick regarding a group of Americans that was forming to support Irish orphans and provide scholarships for those, Protestant and Catholic, who were of college age and had lost their parents through natural causes or violent events.

He was amazing.

She smiled at him across the bar at one point, hoping that he could sense what she was thinking.

At last it came time for Kelly’s Pub to close. The band stopped, and the last of the customers, the old-timers, departed. She was wiping down the bar when she felt Danny behind her. This time she knew he was there before he spoke. “You’ve not introduced me to the new love of your life, Moira,” he murmured.

“Oh, really? Imagine that—and when I’ve seen so much of you, too.”