*Aaron lounged beside Jamie on top of the hill overlooking Ballyglass Castle, the smell of freshly mown grass and sun-warmed wildflowers tickling his nose as he inhaled a satisfied breath.
This place was as close to heaven as he was ever likely to find. Being here cleansed his soul of the terrible things he’s seen and the vile people he’d had to deal with in the Dublin underworld.
He’d forgotten how idyllic it was here. Maybe his mind had blocked out this blissful sense of peace and well-being. To face violence and fear every day, knowing he’d turned his back on this wonderful life, might have broken him.
He sucked in a breath and released it slowly, willing all his stress and worry to leak out with the air. For a few weeks he would relax and forget Dublin. He’d forget he had to go back to the clogged streets full of noisy cars and pushing people to give evidence. For a few weeks, he would pretend he belonged here.
A breeze set the seed heads on the grass twirling like ballerinas, and a lazy bee bumbled by, stopping to visit with the buttercups and clover. In front of him, the hill fell in a gentle slope to the corner of the meadow at the back of the castle where the old oak tree stood on sentry duty.
He and Jamie had safely lopped off the dangerous branch and sawed it into logs for the castle fireplaces, then heaped them on the trailer attached to the back of Jamie’s tractor. Along the eastern boundary of the castle property ran the River Glass, or Little Glass as the locals called it, bubbling over rocks and beneath willow trees.
The wildflower meadow covered four acres and stretched to the ten-foot-high wall that enclosed the flower garden at the back of the castle. Against the blue sky the familiar castle towers stood out, and farther away the shining surface of Lough Glass gleamed, smooth and still, living up to its name.
Shading his eyes, Aaron focused on the people moving about in the castle gardens. Children dashed around, their screams and laughter carrying on the still air, and adults sat at the tables beneath the candy-striped umbrellas dotted over the grass.
Among the flowers and shrubs in the walled garden, he could see the sun glinting off jars in people’s hands. That must be Fiona’s wishing trail. Even from this distance he could identify her distinctive, jaunty walk. She moved between the tables, stopping to talk, gesturing with her arms.
Fiona was one of a kind. He had consigned her to his past, but he’d only been back here for a few hours and already he yearned to be close to her, to kiss her—and she wasn’t too young for him anymore. The four-year age gap that had seemed huge when she was sixteen was nothing now.
Aaron chugged some water from his bottle and wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Man, it’s hot.”
“I know. Great for business, though.” Jamie had taken off his boots and wriggled his bare toes in the grass.
Aaron moved his gaze to the tiny triangles of white sails on the lough, but it didn’t take long for his gaze to be drawn back to find Fiona among the crowd.
“So, what’s the deal with these wishing jars of Fiona’s? Why are they so popular?”
“I know. Weird, isn’t it? I can’t understand the attraction. But they sell like hotcakes and attract people to the castle. We make a steady bit of money from renting the rooms, but not enough to live on and cover the castle upkeep.
“Ewan’s folk concerts twice a year help top up the bank account, but the wishing jars make more money than the concerts. Fi sold jars at the last concert, and people went crazy for them. She’s trying to get a loan to extend the wishing jar workshop, but she’s not having much luck.”
“What goes inside the wishing jars?”
“You saw what she has in that workshop of hers, lace and flowers and girly stuff. I hate going in there. It makes me think of weddings.” Jamie took a slug of water and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as if even saying the word wedding left a bad taste in his mouth.
“What have you got against weddings?”
Jamie hiked his eyebrows as if Aaron had asked a stupid question. “Who wants to be tied to a woman?”
“Surely it depends on the woman and where she’s trying to tie you.” Aaron flashed a suggestive grin, and Jamie chuckled.
They fell silent, and Aaron’s gaze drifted back to locate Fiona. In his years working in Dublin, he’d met plenty of women, but there had never been anyone serious. Fiona had been the woman of his dreams, but back when he was twenty he’d been too stupid to realize it.
Now it was too late for them. His life was in Dublin and hers was here. Some things weren’t destined to work out.
*
Fiona sank into the squishy cushions of her favorite lawn chair and sipped her red wine. She was exhausted, but it was a good tired. The afternoon wishing trail and tea session had been very successful. Now the litter had been picked up, the tables wiped, and the dishwasher was cleaning its second load. Finally she could relax.
At just after nine, the sun was edging its way closer to the horizon, sunset less than an hour away. Already bats streaked overhead, making high-pitched squeaks. Jamie and Aaron appeared from the side of the castle, their boots thumping on the stone path before they cut across the smoothly trimmed lawn towards her.
“What’s for dinner?” Jamie asked, dropping into a chair.
Fiona held up her glass. “Wine. I had planned to roast a chicken, but it was so hectic earlier, I forgot to put it in the oven.”
Completely unfazed by her announcement, Jamie stood again. “I’ll drive over to Foxbridge and get Chinese takeout. It’ll only take me thirty minutes.” He slapped Aaron on the shoulder. “Coming, mate?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll have my usual,” Fiona called as the two men went inside to change out of their boots.
She sipped her wine and laid her head back, listening to the peaceful garden, enjoying the quiet. A phone rang, drawing her gaze to Aaron as he and Jamie came out of the kitchen door. He put his mobile to his ear, then wandered towards the wishing jar workshop and turned his back.
“I’ll go on my own, Fi,” Jamie said. “No point in hanging around for him. I’ll probably be back before he gets off the phone.”
Fifteen minutes later, Aaron wandered back. “Sorry, had to take that call. Did Jamie leave?”
She nodded, noticing the tense lines around his mouth and eyes were back. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. Any chance of a cold beer?”
“In the fridge.”
Aaron went inside and came out again a minute later with a bottle in his hand. He sat in a lawn chair close by and sipped his beer. Insects buzzed, and the water burbled in a small fountain among the flowers.
“What gave you the idea for the wishing jars?” Aaron asked after a few minutes of silence.
“I saw one somewhere and thought they were pretty.” She wasn’t about to tell him that he’d inspired her first jar, and many others since.
“I thought I might walk your wishing trail later.”
“Be my guest. It’s pretty at night, all lit up with tiny fairy lights in jars.”
“Wanna give me a guided tour?” Aaron lounged back in his chair and took a swallow of beer.
Fiona met his sultry, dark gaze, and her heart gave the familiar kick. He was an almost irresistible temptation, like a mega box of Belgian chocolates that looked oh so delicious, but if she succumbed it would only end in regret.
“You don’t need me to guide you. It’s easy to follow.” She averted her eyes and sipped her wine.
A car door slammed close by. A moment later, Ewan strolled into view, his battered guitar case in his hand.
“Hello, stranger. Lovely to see you,” she said to her brother, relieved not to be alone with Aaron anymore.
Ewan nodded at Aaron and kissed her cheek. “Any dinner?”
“Chinese takeout. Jamie should be back with it soon.”
“Will there be enough for me?”
“You know Jamie. He always gets enough to feed the whole village.”
Ewan grabbed a cold beer from inside, then took his guitar out of its case and sat across the table from her. He strummed a gentle melody and Fiona closed her eyes, remembering many other summer evenings when she’d hung out with her brothers and Aaron.
Contentment drifted through her. She adored this place and the people in her life. It had been tough after her father died suddenly in his fifties. She and her brothers had fought to keep Ballyglass Castle, but now they were finally doing well. Life was good, and it would be perfect if she could get her darn loan.
She lifted her eyelashes to find Aaron watching her, his expression unreadable. She stared back, trapped in his intense gaze. She didn’t notice Ewan had stopped playing until he spoke.
“Have you finished your undercover op then, mate?”
Aaron snatched his gaze away from her and pinned Ewan with a warning glare. “You weren’t going to tell anyone.”
Ewan shrugged. “It’s only Fi.”
Aaron’s gaze flicked to her and then back to Ewan. “That doesn’t matter. When I said tell nobody, I meant nobody.”
“Okay, chill.” Ewan raised his palms in a placating gesture. “I won’t mention it again.”
So she was nobody? Aaron’s words stung as if he’d slapped her. “You don’t trust me to keep your secrets?”
“It has nothing to do with trust.”
“No,” she muttered as Jamie arrived with a bulging bag.
“Here we are, lads and lasses.”
He set the bag on the table and handed around the cartons of food. They all dug in with disposable chopsticks, but Fiona’s appetite was gone. She took a few mouthfuls and dropped her carton back on the table.
“Jamie, do you know what Aaron’s been doing recently?” she asked.
Jamie was eating and missed the warning glare Aaron cast in his direction. “Yeah. He’s been working undercover on some investigation for the Garda.”
“So I’m the only one who didn’t know.”
A long time ago she’d accepted that Aaron didn’t love her, but she had thought they were friends. It seemed she’d even been wrong about that. Why would he confide in both her brothers and not her? He’d even cut her off this morning when she asked him questions.
The realization hurt even more because Ewan had never been especially close to Aaron. While she, Jamie, and Aaron had been working at O’Malley’s boat rental place and hanging out together, Ewan was usually practicing his guitar.
“Fiona, they only know because they needed to. You didn’t.” Aaron’s tone was defensive.
Fiona drained the rest of her wine and refilled her glass. Why was she bothered? She knew Aaron didn’t care about her or he’d have come back years ago. But the pain squeezing her heart hurt more than she would have believed possible after all this time.
She rose and grabbed some of the empty Chinese cartons, stacking them together before carrying them inside. She tossed them in the trash, missed, and scattered rice and sauce on the floor. Tears filled her eyes as Merlin trotted up to lick the tiles clean.
“Good boy. You love Mummy, don’t you?”
Aaron appeared in the doorway, holding the rest of the take-out cartons. “While I was working undercover, we went to a club where Ewan was playing. I had to tell him so he didn’t blow my cover.”
“And Jamie?”
“He wanted to meet up when he visited Dublin.”
She was certain that if she’d visited Dublin and wanted to meet up, Aaron would have simply said no.