Alice apparently heard the noise at the same time. “You obviously have company coming. I should go,” she said a little too eagerly.
Given the choice between the company he knew and the uninvited guests outside, he opted for the familiar. “Stay,” he commanded. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
But when he stepped onto the deck, he saw not one or even two people who could be easily dismissed, but three, all dark-haired replicas of the man he’d come to hate—Connor Devaney.
“Patrick Devaney? Son of Kathleen and Connor?” one of them asked, stepping forward.
Patrick nodded reluctantly, his heart pounding. It couldn’t be that these three men who looked so familiar were really his brothers. Not after all these years. And yet, somehow, he knew they were, as surely as if they’d already said the words.
“We’re your brothers,” the one in front said.
And with those simple yet monumental words, his past and present merged.
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