and her honey-colored hair looked more red than blond.
He’d first met her at Ronan and Laura’s wedding a year or so ago, but with her many trips to Ireland to visit her sister, he’d come to know Georgia and he liked her. He liked her quick wit, her sarcasm and her sense of family loyalty—which he shared.
All around them, the darkness was complete, the headlights of his car illuminating the narrow track winding out in front of them. This far from the city, it was mainly farmland stretching out behind the high, thick hedges that lined the road. The occasional lighted window in a farmhouse stood out like beacons, urging them on.
At last, a distant glow appeared and Sean knew it was the lights of Westport, staining the night sky. They were close, and he took his first easy breath in what felt like hours.
“Nearly there,” he announced, and glanced at Georgia. She gave him a quick grin, and he felt the solid punch of it.
From the backseat, Laura cried out and just like that, Sean’s relief was cut short. They weren’t safe yet. Focusing on the task at hand, he pushed his car as fast as he dared.
What felt like days—and was in reality only hours and hours later—Sean and Georgia walked out of the hospital like survivors of a grueling battle.
“God,” Sean said, as they stepped into the soft rain of an Irish afternoon in winter. The wind blew like ice, and the rain fell from clouds that looked close enough to touch. He tipped his face back and stared up into the gray. It was good to be outside, away from the sounds and smells of the hospital. Even better to know that the latest Connolly had arrived safely.
“That was the longest night and day of my life, I think,” he said with feeling.
“Mine, too,” Georgia agreed, shrugging deeper into the navy blue coat she wore. “But it was worth it.”
He looked over at her. “Oh, aye, it was indeed. She’s a beauty.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Georgia grinned. “Fiona Connolly. It’s a good name. Beautiful, but strong, too.”
“It is, and by the look of her, she’s already got her da wrapped around her tiny fingers.” He shook his head as he remembered the expression on his cousin’s face as Ronan held his new daughter for the first time. Almost enough to make a jaded man believe in—never mind.
“I’m exhausted and energized all at the same time.”
“Me, as well,” Sean agreed, happy to steer his mind away from dangerous territory. “Feel as though I’ve been running a marathon.”
“And all we did was wait.”
“I think the waiting is the hardest thing of all.”
Georgia laughed. “And I think Laura would disagree.”
Ruefully, he nodded. “You’ve a point there.”
Georgia sighed, stepped up to Sean and threaded her arm through his. “Ronan will be a great father. And Laura … she wanted this so much.” She sniffed and swiped her fingers under her eyes.
“No more crying,” Sean said, giving her arm a squeeze. “Already I feel as though I’ve been riding a tide of tears all day. Between the new mother and father and you, it’s been weepy eyes and sniffles for hours.”
“I saw your eyes get a little misty, too, tough guy.”
“Aye, well, we Irish are a sentimental lot,” he admitted, then started for the car park, Georgia’s arm still tucked through his.
“It’s one of the things I like best about you—”
He gave her a look.
“—the Irish in general, I mean,” she qualified.
“Ah, well then.” He smiled to himself at her backtracking. It was a lovely afternoon. Soft rain, cold wind and new life wailing in the hospital behind them. “You’ve been to Ireland so often in the last year, you’re very nearly an honorary Irishman yourself, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she admitted. They walked up to his car, and Sean hit the unlock button on his keypad.
“What’s that then?” he asked, as he opened the passenger door for her and held it, waiting. Fatigue clawed at him, but just beneath that was a buoyant feeling that had him smile at the woman looking up at him.
“About being an honorary Irishman. Or at least,” she said, looking around her at the car park, the hospital and the city beyond, “moving here. Permanently.”
“Really?” Intrigued, he leaned his forearms on the top of the door. “And what’s brought this on then? Is it your brand-new niece?”
She shrugged. “Partly, sure. But mostly, it’s this country. It’s gorgeous and friendly, and I’ve really come to love being here.”
“Does Laura know about this?”
“Not yet,” she admitted, and shifted her gaze back to him. “So don’t say anything. She’s got enough on her mind at the moment.”
“True enough,” he said. “But I’m thinking she’d be pleased to have her sister so close.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile then slid into her seat. As Sean closed the door after her and walked around the car, he was forced to admit that he wouldn’t mind having Georgia close, either.
A half hour later, Georgia opened the door to Laura and Ronan’s expansive stone manor house and looked back over her shoulder at Sean. “Want to come in for a drink?”
“I think we’ve earned one,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Or even a dozen.”
She laughed and it felt good. Heck, she felt good. Her sister was a mother, and Georgia was so glad she had made the decision to come to Ireland to be present for the baby’s birth. She hated to think about what it would have been like, being a half a world away right now.
“Ronan’s housekeeper, Patsy, is off in Dublin visiting her daughter Sinead,” Georgia reminded him. “So we’re on our own for food.”
“It’s not food I want at the moment anyway,” Sean told her.
Was he flirting with her? Georgia wondered, then dismissed the notion. She shook her head and reminded herself that they were here for a drink. Or several.
As he spoke, a long, ululating howl erupted from deep within the house. Georgia actually jumped at the sound and then laughed. “With the rain, the dogs have probably let themselves into the kitchen.”
“Probably hungry now, too,” Sean said, and walked beside her toward the back of the house.
Georgia knew her sister’s house as if it were her own. Whenever she was in Ireland, she stayed here at the manor, since it was so huge they could comfortably hold a family reunion for a hundred. She opened the door into a sprawling kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances and what looked like miles of granite countertops. Everything was tidy—but for the two dogs scrambling toward her for some attention.
Deidre was a big, clumsy English sheepdog with so much hair over her eyes, it was a wonder she didn’t walk into walls. And Beast—huge, homely—the best that could be said about him was what he lacked in beauty he made up for in heart. Since Beast reached her first, Georgia scratched behind his ears and sent the big dog into quivers of delight. Deidre was right behind him, nudging her mate out of her way.
“Okay then, food for the dogs, then drinks for us,” Georgia announced.
“Already on it,” Sean assured her, making his way to the wide pantry, stepping over and around Beast as the dog wound his way in and out of Sean’s feet.
Within a few minutes, they had the dogs fed and watered and then left them there, sleeping on their beds in front of the now cold kitchen hearth. Cuddled up together, the