“And has nagged at me until I almost believe I have real talent,” Moira said. “I wake up some days pinching myself when I see an advertisement for my work in some famous gallery in New York or on the West Coast.”
“Peter was so proud of you,” Kiera told her. “He bragged about you to every customer who came into the pub and pointed out all of your pictures on the walls. Original works by Moira O’Brien, he’d tell them, then show them the programs from your exhibits in America. He was so pleased that you sent those to him. He loved you like a daughter, you know.”
“Stop or you’ll have me bawling,” Moira protested. “Let’s go home, Luke. I want Mum to see our house and meet our Kate. After flying all night, she’s no doubt anxious for a bit of a rest.”
“I would like nothing more than to hug my granddaughter, then have a hot shower,” Kiera admitted. “And perhaps a cup of tea. Then I’ll be ready to see your grandfather and Nell and see whatever else the day has in store.”
“Nell has invited the whole family for an afternoon barbecue in your honor,” Moira told her. “I tried to tell her it might be too overwhelming after your long flight, but she insisted. She wants you to feel welcome. And Grandfather is anxious to see for himself that you’re doing okay after everything that’s happened.”
“When am I to begin working for you, Luke, beyond suggesting window boxes as I just did? If I’m going to be here for a while, I want to pay my own way.”
If she hadn’t been watching her son-in-law so closely she might not have noticed just the slightest hesitation, the quick glance between him and Moira. “Is there some problem you haven’t mentioned?”
“Just a bit of a delay on the paperwork,” Luke said hurriedly. “My cousin says there’s nothing to worry about. Things like this are just taking longer these days. You might have to wait before officially starting on the job.”
Kiera’s spirits sank. Her fresh start was clearly more precarious than they’d led her to believe. “There’s no job?”
“Of course there’s a job,” Moira said, casting a defiant look at Luke. “It will just be unofficial for the time being. You’ll still be consulting.”
“But this consulting work will be an unpaid position?” Kiera asked, determined to clarify her status. “I’ll be living here on your charity?” It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted, to be a burden on her daughter and Luke. She’d agreed to come for a lengthy stay only because of the promise that she’d be earning her keep.
“You’re family, Kiera. There’s no charity in this,” Luke quickly assured her. “You’ll be paid for the work you do, just not as an official employee until we can work out the legalities.”
“How long might that take?”
“Connor is certain it will go smoothly,” Moira insisted.
“A few weeks at the most,” Luke said.
Kiera sighed heavily. “I see.” She’d cut her ties with home, only to find herself with an uncertain future.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Moira said. “And you’re wrong. This is going to work out. You’ll see.”
“Perhaps we should have been more certain of that before I came,” she replied wearily.
“Kiera, you can talk to Connor yourself later today,” Luke said. “He’ll be able to reassure you.”
She was suddenly far too exhausted to argue. “Then I’ll wait and see,” she said, then amended silently, and try not to feel discouraged.
But if there was no hope for a reasonably quick resolution to her work status here, then she would have to make a call to the McDonoughs and see if there was any chance she could go back to work for them in Dublin. Even if Luke and her daughter did their best to convince her that she had a place here with them, she’d spent too many years counting on no one but herself to settle for that. The fact that she could make her own way in the world was the one thing in which she’d always taken pride. Now more than ever, she needed to cling to that faith in her own abilities.
All thoughts of that discouraging news flew out the window, though, when Keira walked into Moira’s home and met her granddaughter. With her rosy, round cheeks, halo of strawberry blond curls and blue eyes welling with tears, she was the spitting image of Moira as a baby, as was the temper tantrum she was throwing.
“I’m so sorry,” the young girl who’d been babysitting said when they came in. “I wanted her to look perfect for your arrival, but she objected to me changing her, then kicked off her shoes and screamed bloody murder when I tried to put her in her playpen.”
Kiera reached for Kate anyway, feeling a tug she hadn’t felt since the first time she’d held Moira in the hospital so long ago. The baby gave her a startled look, then settled in her arms with a sleepy sigh, worn out by her tantrum.
“You’ve a golden touch,” Moira said happily. “I knew you would.”
Kiera smiled. “Experience,” she told her daughter.
Luke laughed. “So Moira’s moods started that early?”
“In the cradle,” Kiera confirmed. “And just like our Kate, it was hard to hold them against her, when she was so perfect in other ways.”
When she glanced at Moira, she saw that tears were tracking down her cheeks. “What?” she asked, worried that she’d upset her within minutes of walking in the door.
“You thought I was perfect,” Moira whispered.
“Of course I did. Now I imagine Luke sees you that way, too.”
“Love must come with blinders, then,” Moira said, smiling. “A good thing, too.”
* * *
“Kiera, love, you seem awfully quiet,” Dillon said, drawing Kiera away from the crowd of O’Briens scattered across Nell’s yard. “Are you needing a bit of a rest? I’m sure everyone would understand if you wanted to go back to Moira’s or even just inside to lie down in our guest room here for a quick nap.”
Kiera saw the genuine concern in her father’s eyes and, not for the first time today, wanted to give in and let the tears flow. She’d shed plenty when Peter first died a few months ago, but none since. And as much as she’d wanted to cry when Luke and Moira had filled her in on the delay to her work visa, she’d held back, stayed strong and hidden her panic as she’d learned to do so well over the years. She’d never wanted her children to experience every uncertainty that terrified her.
Now, though, she wanted to feel her father’s strong arms around her, comforting her as he had when she was a girl and had skinned her knee or had her heart broken. She wondered what Dillon would think if she just buried her face in his chest and sobbed, as she held on tight.
Instead, she forced a smile. “I’m okay, Dad.”
“I’m not convinced of that,” he said. “Even after all these years, I can tell when you’re in pain. And why wouldn’t you be? Peter’s death was a shock. And coming here is a huge change.” He studied her knowingly. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken so many risks at once.”
Surprised by his insight, she murmured, “You have no idea.”
“Do you think I didn’t have a few moments of uncertainty when I agreed to pick up everything and leave Ireland to be with Nell?”
She smiled at that. “You, uncertain? I can’t imagine such a thing.”
“Only a fool doesn’t have second thoughts when they risk a big change,” he told her. “The brave move forward and do it anyway, because they believe the rewards will be worth it. Having Nell with me for the rest of our lives was worth everything I gave up.