Lilac Lane

Luke beckoned Kiera over to the bar. “I need a closer look at this transformation,” he said. “Is this the same woman I saw polishing my bar just last night?”

“Okay, okay,” Kiera said, laughing at last. “I’m flattered by all the attention, but I wouldn’t mind a pint of ale right about now. Is the service in here falling apart without me on the job?”

“Happy to oblige,” Luke said at once. “And what about some dinner? You and Moira must be starved after your long day. The special tonight is shepherd’s pie.”

One of my favorites, Kiera thought to herself. She couldn’t help wondering if Bryan had the knack for it, since it hadn’t been on the menu since her arrival.

“You stay right here,” she told Luke. “I’ll get plates for myself and Moira.”

Before he could stop her, she walked around the bar and entered the kitchen. “Two shepherd pie dinners,” she called out.

Bryan’s head swiveled so quickly in her direction, she was surprised it didn’t make him dizzy. Then his mouth gaped in a most startling and complimentary way.

“Kiera?” he said, his voice oddly choked.

“Yes. Who else would be barging into the kitchen like this?”

His gaze narrowed. “You look different.”

“After the money Moira spent today, I would hope so,” she said tartly, then gave him a hesitant look. “Is it a good difference?”

His lips curved slightly at the apparent hint of insecurity in her voice. “You look softer, more approachable,” he said, though he sounded as if that was more troublesome than it should have been.

“Ten years younger, that’s what the stylist claimed,” she said. “Of course, she wanted to be sure of a tip.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bryan said. “You looked fine before.” He seemed to be fumbling for words. “But don’t all women want to look younger?”

Kiera studied him curiously. There was something oddly charming about his obvious nervousness. Usually he was brusque to the point of rudeness. If there was something about her look tonight, there was also something very different in Bryan’s reaction to her. She wished she could put her finger on it, but perhaps it was better that she couldn’t put a name to it. That might shift the nervousness straight to her.

* * *

“What took you so long?” Moira asked when Kiera finally returned to take her seat at the bar.

“Bryan wasn’t giving you a rough time, was he?” Luke asked worriedly. “Or you him?”

“Not at all,” Kiera said, placing two plates of shepherd’s pie on the bar. It looked just fine, and the aroma was as tempting as any she’d eaten before. “I’m anxious to give this a try. Moira, have a taste and see if it’s like what we get back home.”

“I’ve had it before,” Moira said. “It’s as delicious as any I’ve ever had, except perhaps that you’ve made yourself. The only dish you make that’s any better is your Irish stew. I have to warn you, though, Bryan’s Irish stew has become a favorite here. He takes great pride in it, as does Nell, who taught him how to make it.”

Leaving the Irish stew debate for another time, Kiera took a bite of the shepherd’s pie and nodded, pleasantly surprised that it seemed authentic. Not bad for a man who’d once been making sandwiches in a deli.

“Does it pass muster?” Luke asked.

“It does,” Kiera said. “It’s quite good, in fact.”

“And will you tell Bryan that yourself? I know it would please him.”

“Bryan’s ego needs no boost from me,” Kiera said, not sure why the thought of praising his cooking felt too much like eating crow.

Luke kept his gaze on her steady. “For the sake of harmony,” he suggested.

“Fine, then,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll tell him.” She rose to do just that before she lost the will, but Luke waved her back to her seat.

“After you’ve finished. A clean plate will speak volumes, too,” he told her. “Bryan might not show it, but he could use a bit of reassurance from you from time to time. Nell sings his praises, but that’s become commonplace. You’re a new test for him and one he’s not entirely sure he’s passing. He feels as if you’re judging him each time you walk into the kitchen.”

Kiera was confused. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? To find areas that need improvement?”

“Absolutely,” Luke said quickly. “And I’m sure Bryan would welcome a suggestion here and there. Have you shared your thoughts with him?”

Kiera thought of how she’d been handling things and realized she’d felt constrained by her lack of real standing. She’d observed and judged, but mostly kept her opinions to herself, storing them up for the time when she’d feel free to speak her mind. She could see now how that silence might make Bryan feel uneasy. He’d probably prefer a tart comment or two to the silence.

“I’ll try to do better at making him feel at ease,” she said, thinking of the hint of nervousness she’d noticed for the first time earlier. Perhaps she had inadvertently thrown him off his game. That had never been her intention, but they did seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. There was no denying that.

“I’d appreciate that,” Luke said, clearly satisfied by her response.

“I’ve been cautious about speaking up till now, but if I’m to be honest and more candid with him, then I can’t hold back my opinion when I think he’s gotten it wrong,” Kiera warned.

A smile tugged at her son-in-law’s lips. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” he said. “That would be as wasted an effort as asking the wind not to blow.”

Kiera laughed. It would, indeed.

Chapter 4 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

Rather than being stuck in his closet of an office, Luke had brought the stacks of dreaded pub paperwork that occupied way too much of his time these days to a table by the window that looked out onto the bay. That view, at least, made the prospect of spending the next couple of hours dealing with numbers and invoices slightly less daunting.

He’d barely made a dent in the work when the door at O’Brien’s opened and Moira came in with Kate in her stroller.

“Da!” Kate exclaimed ecstatically when she spotted him. She immediately held out her arms.

All thoughts of invoices and supply orders vanished as Luke reached for his daughter. His gaze, though, kept straying to his wife.

“What brings you by? Did you have a meeting with Megan? And why is this little angel with you, rather than your mother?”

“After we all had breakfast at Sally’s, I dropped my mother off at Connor’s office. There were some forms they needed to go over,” she said.

Her anxious tone provided a clue for Luke, but her pacing was a dead giveaway that something about that meeting was upsetting his wife.

“And that has you worried?” Luke asked, frowning. “Why? Did Connor suggest there might be a problem? Is something holding up the visa application?”

“No, to the contrary, he thinks this will be the last bit of paperwork needed to satisfy immigration.”

“That’s great news,” Luke said, lifting Kate high into the air until she giggled.

“You might want to watch that,” Moira warned. “She just ate an entire pancake at Sally’s, then went after Mum’s eggs. Our little one has the appetite of a horse now that she’s trying regular food, but she hasn’t learned when to stop.”

“Yes, my worrywart,” Luke said, shifting Kate till her feet touched the ground and she could cling to his knee to stay upright. “You know, I think she’s very close to walking.”

Moira regarded him incredulously. “She’s not going to be a year old for another month. She’s still falling on her bum whenever she tries.”