Chapter 18

Evelyn O’Rourke looked at her sons, her heart pained.

James mindlessly flicked through the channels on her television. From the time he’d been a child, when he was unhappy or distressed, he would do activities that made him appear interested while his mind stayed a million miles away.

His soon-to-be ex-wife had done a number on him. Evelyn spared a few unkind thoughts for the woman, but the thought that overrode it all was, I hope he’s only bent, not broken.

Her gaze went to her other son, who sat at her table, deeply involved in his work. Colin was the polar opposite of James. Whereas James had had natural people skills from the time he was born, Colin had to work hard to cultivate his. Looking at the man he was now, Evelyn was proud of him. He’d worked tirelessly for the better part of a decade to prove himself worthy of the Herculean task Brianagh had left for him. To take a successful company and make it his own was exactly what Colin needed to give his life purpose and direction. Brianagh had always been perceptive of others’ needs, and Evelyn was grateful Bri had enough foresight to know that Colin would need to step outside of his comfort zone to flourish. Maybe she knew that he needed to prove to himself that he was capable of great things.

Evelyn knew what was troubling James, and she also knew enough that he wasn’t ready to talk about it. Colin’s source of trouble smelled of relationship issues, and while James’s was relatively straightforward, Colin’s had an entirely different set of problems that came with it.

“Colin, could you help me weed the garden?” she asked, holding up a spare pair of gloves. “It’s so overrun, and with the back spasms your father’s been experiencing, I really don’t want to ask him.”

Colin looked up from his screen. “Can James help this time, Mom? I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to get these e-mails out…”

“James is a bit involved in his troubles,” she said softly, letting her gaze stray to the couch.

Colin sighed, then closed his laptop. “Of course.”

He dutifully followed her out to the backyard, where her vegetables grew in haphazard beds. He dropped to his knees and immediately began pulling the weeds.

“Thanks, love. This can become an overwhelming task when it’s just me doing all the work.”

He grunted.

“How was your trip to Ireland? Reilly all right?”

“He’s great. The trip was pretty uneventful.”

“No extra side trips?” she asked meaningfully.

He glanced up, his dark eyes unreadable. “A bit of one, sure. There usually is.”

Evelyn nodded, though her heart contracted. She hated that her youngest child was a chosen one of the family tree. When she’d married Connor O’Rourke years before, her mother-in-law got her rip-roaring drunk and told her everything. Evelyn had thought her crazy, but she knew now that she’d been giving her a warning. The duty of being a Protector skipped at least one, but sometimes more generations, depending on how many Protectors were still alive at the time of a candidate’s birth. At least, that was what Reilly had explained to her when he’d shown up out of the blue one morning, a tiny, dark-haired child in tow.

Being entrusted with the care and raising of her family’s most important member was a joy. Evelyn loved every moment of being Brianagh’s surrogate mother, but when the time came to let her go, she’d nearly broken from the grief. The only thing that helped her through it was Colin…and his ability to take her and James back with him for the birth of each of Brianagh’s beautiful children.

Evelyn was a blessed mother, indeed.

She nonchalantly threw more weeds into the growing pile. “Oh, that must’ve been difficult to explain to Ellie. The poor girl. I wonder what she made of it when you disappeared. Did you have enough warning to hand her off to Candice?”

“It worked out,” was all he said. He plucked a weed a bit too enthusiastically, and a large mound of dirt came up with it. Muttering, he shook it free and tossed it into the pile.

Evelyn nodded, and allowed a moment of silence to pass. “I miss doing this with Dad. I hope that back surgery of his leads to a full recovery.”

“James says it will. Don’t worry so much, Mom.”

“It’s in my nature,” she replied mildly. “Love is like this pumpkin I’ve got growing here.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard love compared to a pumpkin before.”

“Well, think about it. A pumpkin takes much more work to thrive than your average fruit.”

“Aren’t pumpkins a vegetable?”

“Technically, they’re a fruit. Don’t question your mother.” She sniffed with mock seriousness. “First, you have to plant it in a safe place, far away from the cold realities of the outside world. For almost a month, you have to keep it in ideal conditions, where no matter what, it’s protected from extremes. When you’re taking care of something so new and precious, those first few weeks need to be protected so that something more substantial can grow.”

“I suppose,” he replied doubtfully.

Evelyn didn’t look up. “Then, after it’s safe to plant it, you have to make sure the outside conditions are right. What if there’s a cold snap? That can kill the fruit before it even has a chance to develop itself. Just give it what it needs—water, sunlight, some words of encouragement. And even though it sounds like it, that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

“What does it mean, then?”

“It means that if you’re willing to put in the time and care necessary to foster something that nourishes your soul, then at first you keep it safe, then give it what it needs.”

He blinked. “What happens if, after you give it the water and the sunlight, it still dies? Do you toss it out with the weed pile?”

She gently brushed the dirt off some leaves of a tomato plant. “Well, of course you could. But it seems counterintuitive. I mean, you’ve already put in the time and effort. And your seedling has, against all odds, survived to a point. You should always be certain before you pull up the roots. Give it a bit of time. With a little more sunlight, a bit more water, and room to grow, love can be quite forgiving.”

“You mean plants,” Colin replied. “Plants can be forgiving.”

“Those, too.”

Colin stood and kissed her on her head. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Any time, dear.” Evelyn sat back on her calves and, pleased, surveyed the neat soil around her small pumpkin as Colin made a beeline back to the house.

• • •

Ellie absentmindedly dusted the book in her hand again, her unfocused gaze on the wall opposite her register, where a large painting of a poppy had been placed earlier in the week. A man had entered her shop, asked for her by name, and handed her the wrapped parcel.

Bemused, she’d taken it, and the man left before she could tip or thank him. When she tore the paper open, the bold strokes of red, tinged with veins of deeper red, had her curiously peeling back the rest of the wrapping.

It was an enormous painting of a red poppy, tinged with white. The flower was painted in full, exacting detail on a stark white canvas background. And in the center of the flower, in a shade just a touch lighter than the deep black of its slightly imperfect circle, it read, My Rose, she is anything but simple.

Her throat closed, and her eyes blurred. Oh, Colin…

“Nice gallery piece, though the artist messed up the words a bit there,” Norman had declared, eyeing it critically. “He capitalized Rose, and it isn’t even that. It’s a poppy flower. It’s a weed, really, but whoever painted this made it look quite interesting.”

He’d then hoisted it and hung it on the wall opposite the register, claiming it was a good start at redecorating.

When the bell over the door tinkled, she suddenly realized she was staring at the painting again and quickly put the book down. She glanced around. Perhaps Norman was right in that it was time to change things up a bit. She tried to see what her customers saw when they walked in.

The longest wall was floor-to-ceiling shelves, stuffed with different shapes and sizes of books. The rolling library ladder, which followed each wall in the shop, added a feeling of whimsy and a good deal of practicality to the space. The tables in the middle of the store were stacked with gently used books, arranged by subject matter. At the back of the shop, a little gas fireplace blazed merrily, even though it was now late summer. A small, comfortable, second-hand couch flanked it, and the low coffee table held a selection of tea and teacups for customers to enjoy.

She waited for the feeling of joy to infuse her but, as had been the case for the last few weeks, she felt only emptiness.

“I’m running out for coffee,” Norman declared, tossing his apron on the counter. “Want anything?”

“No, thank you,” she murmured, lost in her thoughts. Perhaps new paint? Maybe a bright shade of yellow would cheer her.

Probably not.

“Hullo,” she heard Norman greet the patron who just entered. “If you need anything, the owner’s in the front.”

“Thank you,” the man replied, and Ellie’s heart leapt to her throat.

No.

It couldn’t be.

But it was. Colin O’Rourke rounded the corner, his presence filling the space. Ellie stopped breathing, suspended in a moment of absolute agony that pierced her soul, rendering her unable to move, or think, or be.

“I see you got my gift,” he said, his voice low. A slight question at the end of it, perhaps, to goad her into responding.

She remained silent even as her heart yearned for him.

He rocked back on his heels, looking around the shop. “This is really nice. I can see why you’re such a success.”

Another customer entered and called out. She managed to reply, and the woman came around the stacks. “Self help?” she asked.

“Back wall, just there.” Ellie pointed, and the woman turned her back to them with a nod of thanks.

Ellie looked back at Colin. “Can I help you?” A small wave of relief washed over her when her voice didn’t shake.

“You haven’t returned Candice’s calls. She’s in a bit of a panic, you know.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped to her toes, and she resisted the prick of tears. Of course. He still thinks I’m the determining factor of his business here.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh?” Colin asked, taking a step toward the counter. His eyes were molten chocolate, and they bore into hers, the intensity robbing her of breath. “I’d like to remind you of the contract you signed with Celtic Connections. You promised to give it a try. Your second match—Reginald. He told us you ended things.”

“I did,” she replied, her throat dry.

Colin stared at her. “You told me that you were ready to find love.”

Ellie glared at him. “I was ready. It was the fool I fell in love with who was not.”

He paused, his eyes glinting, and he leaned back. “So it’s like that, then.”

Wearily, she sighed. “The contract was for three months, with an option to extend.”

“Yes.”

“Well, my three months are up. And I choose not to extend.”

His face remained impassive, and Ellie felt a flash of annoyance beneath the hurt. “Can I help you find a book, sir?” she asked, drawing herself up. “Anything to move you along from this shop?”

He stroked his chin. “Do you have anything on gardening?”

She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white with repressed emotion. She didn’t know if she was angry, annoyed, or just immeasurably sad, but she willed her voice into compliance. “Many titles. What type of gardening?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure. Maybe you can direct me a little here. You see, I had the chance to hold a flower that was both strong yet fragile. It’s a rare one. Stunningly beautiful at first glance, but as it began to grow and open itself to me, I realized that it was so much more. Its beauty went all the way to its core, and I suddenly realized what a treasure I was being entrusted with. I was overwhelmed, and terrified that I would ruin it, simply by accepting its gift.”

“Was it an orchid?” the woman by the self-help section asked. “Those are quite complicated and require a lot of maintenance.”

“No, no,” Colin replied, his eyes still locked on Ellie’s. “This flower doesn’t require maintenance. It simply requires trust, and room to grow.”

“What kind of flower is it?” the woman asked breathlessly.

Ellie closed her eyes against her tears and gripped the counter harder.

Colin stepped closer. “A poppy.”

“Colin,” Ellie whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

The woman, realizing they knew each other, discreetly left with a murmur.

“Because I’m a pompous ass. Because I’m an idiot.” He reached over the counter and touched her hands, gently releasing her death grip. He kissed first one hand, then the other. “Because once upon a summer night, I fell in love. Not a little, Ellie. No, I fell all the way, head-over-heels, fully, truly, soul deep in love. The intensity of it scared the daylights of out me. I thought loving someone would mean I’d ruin her chance at happiness.”

She couldn’t see him at all now. She remained still, his hand now gently cupping her face, his thumb wiping away the steady stream of tears.

“I have messed up in the worst of ways. You gave yourself to me over and over, and I rejected you each time. I’m begging you, please, let me spend the rest of my life showing you how wrong I was. Let me love you as bravely as you loved me. As I hope you still love me. You’re not just my soul mate, Eleanor Carberry. You’re the other half of my heart.”

“You hurt me, Colin,” she whispered. “You gutted me.”

His breath caught. “Never again, love. I vow it. I will work every day to put a smile on your face. I will give you all of me, forever, and be your hero, as you are mine. I am yours, Ellie. Eternally.”

She swallowed, and blinked away the tears. His chocolate eyes implored her to believe him, to trust him.

And, deep in her soul, she knew she could.

“You told me once that Fate had a different tale for you.”

“And you suggested it might be a fairy tale,” he remembered.

“In my world, fairy tales end with a happily ever after.”

He looked at her with such love, she lost her breath. He whispered, “I guess that begs the question…do we get a fairy tale after all?”

“I think we do, Colin.”

His eyes lit up, and he gently tugged her around the counter. She took a step towards his open arms and immediately tripped into him with a muffled, “Oomph!”

He barked out a laugh. “Don’t you ever change, Eleanor.” He pressed his lips to hers, gently branding her. “Never—” he kissed the corner of her mouth “—ever—” he moved to the other side “—change.” His lips claimed hers in a searing kiss, and Ellie accepted it, mind, body…and soul.