They walked across the yard, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The boys had finished their homework and were throwing a football around in the waning light, Benny running back and forth, trying to play with them. When they got inside, Dermot took her upstairs and gently undressed her, then filled the tub with hot water.
When she was settled, he sat down beside the tub and grabbed the sponge. Once it was lathered, he scrubbed her back, brushing aside her hair. “It’s been a good day,” he said.
“It has. And it’s nice having you here with me at the end of it all.” She braced her arms on the edge of the old tub and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
Cupping her face in his hands, Dermot kissed her softly. “No problem.”
“You know, you’ve been a really important part of this farm these last weeks. And worth a whole lot more than a hundred dollars a week.”
“How much am I worth?” he asked with a playful smile.
“A million dollars,” she said.
“That much?”
“I wish I had enough money to lure you away from your regular job.”
“That wouldn’t take money,” he said.
Dermot thought about what it would take. He’d considered staying, making a life with Rachel. It was easy to believe that what he shared with her was real and lasting. But he had a life somewhere else. Did he love her simply because she needed him?
“I’m going to go down and get you a glass of wine,” he said. “And then, I’m going to wash your hair for you.”
Rachel sank down in the water and closed her eyes. “Two million,” she said. “That’s what you’re worth.”
Dermot walked downstairs, and when he got to the kitchen, he stood in front of the fridge and stared inside, his thoughts occupied with the woman upstairs. Every ounce of common sense told him that he’d have to go. At least for a little while. How would he ever know if their feelings for each other were true unless he had a chance to put them in perspective? With Rachel in his arms and in his bed, he’d been lost in an infatuation that didn’t seem to have an end.
He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Women had always held a very specific place in his life. He’d never, ever let any woman get under his skin like Rachel had. She’d become a part of who he was as a man, and excising her from his life would be like losing an arm or a leg.
If he were at home, he’d go out for a beer with his brothers and they’d be able to give him some solid advice. But he felt more than just a physical distance from them. The bonds that had seemed so strong between the four of them had been replaced by the bond he shared with Rachel.
He reached for the bottle of wine and then closed the refrigerator. Drawing a deep breath, he fixed his mind on the naked woman upstairs. If he thought about the future, he got lost in a vortex of confusion. He’d just have to take one day at a time and hope that, when it came to goodbyes, he’d know exactly what to do.
ON WARM NIGHTS, they ate dinner on the porch around a weathered wooden table with a bouquet of wild-flowers in the center. The boys had been at the farm for a week and were already settling into a happy routine.
Though their presence had put a bit of a crimp in her sex life, Rachel and Dermot had managed to find plenty of time together in the afternoons, before Taylor came home from school. But now they had Saturday and Sunday to contend with, and Rachel found herself planning a little getaway in the late-night hours.
“I’m starving,” Dermot called through the screen door.
“Me, too,” Taylor yelled.
“Me, three,” added Trevor.
“So hungry that you’ll even eat my cooking?” She stepped out onto the porch, her arms laden with plates and bowls. “Dinner is served.”
“I love your cooking,” Dermot said, grabbing a platter as she walked past. “Can’t you tell? I think I’ve put on a few pounds since I got here.”
“You’re just being polite,” she said. “I know I’m not a great cook.”
He nuzzled her neck and she giggled, trying to wriggle out of his embrace. “You’re good enough for me.”
“Thank you,” she said, finally escaping his arms. She returned a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses, then handed them to Dermot before she sat down. The boys filled their plates and sat down on the porch steps, tossing bits of bread to Benny, who sat between them.
Dermot poured her a glass of wine. “I love your meatloaf.” He chuckled. “And that was purely a nonsexual comment.”
Rachel smiled and leaned over her plate to kiss him. “Stop it,” she whispered.
“Are you finally ready to be rid of me?”
Rachel shook her head. “No. I’m going to be lonely without you.”
“You could come with me,” he said.
“No!” Taylor shouted. “She has to stay here. So do you.”
They had carefully avoided talk of the future for the past few weeks. But in the past couple days, it seemed to come up again and again. “It was beautiful while it lasted,” she murmured.
“Why haven’t you asked me to stay?”
She was shocked by the question and she frowned, trying to read the expression on his face. Rachel had never even considered that he might be happy living on the farm with her. Sure, he felt a need to help her, but Dermot didn’t seem like the kind of man to be happy tending goats for the rest of his life. “I—I guess I know how anxious you are to get home. Back to your brothers and your grandfather.”
“You feel like my family,” he said.
“That feeling will go away. You’re tricked into that because we’ve been so close. We’ve been living like an old married couple.” She nodded to the boys. “With two kids.”
“I don’t think that feeling’s going to go away,” he said, picking at his food.
The sound of a car on the gravel driveway interrupted their discussion and Rachel slowly stood, staring out into the yard. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Dermot folded his napkin and set it on the table. “Who is it?”
“It’s my brother. I should have known this was coming. He shows up every now and then to try to convince me to sell the farm. I’ve been ignoring the letters from the lawyers, which has probably pissed him off.”
“He can’t force you to sell the farm. It’s in your father’s will.”
“That’s not going to stop him,” Rachel said. “And now that the boys are here, he knows his case is not so good anymore.”
Dermot stood up and moved to her side, slipping his arm around her waist. She could feel his body tense beside her and she knew from the look on her brother’s face that he had run out of patience.
“Why is Uncle Jim here?” Taylor asked. Trevor stood up as if he sensed the tension in the air.
“Guys, why don’t you take your dinner inside,” Dermot ordered. They reluctantly went into the house, but stood at the screen door, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Dermot grabbed Rachel’s hand as they stood at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Hello, Jim,” Rachel said as her brother strode up to them. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Rachel,” he said with a curt nod. “I’d heard Jane’s boys were living here.”
“They are. This is Dermot. Dermot Quinn. He’s my—”
“Boyfriend,”