Because You're Mine

  A low sound in the background began to escalate in volume.

  “What’s that?” she asked, tipping her head to one side to listen. “A dog?” The whine intensified when she rose and approached a line of flowering shrubs. “Here, boy,” she said.

  “Prince won’t come out,” Hattie said. “He’s scared of humans, ever since . . .”

  “Ever since what?” Alanna asked, glancing back in time to see Hattie snap her mouth shut.

  “Never you mind. It’s not important.” She nodded toward the bushes. “The dog’s a stray and fears humans.”

  Alanna crouched in the soil and held out her hand. “Come here, boy,” she said softly. She’d never met an animal she couldn’t charm. When the dog didn’t respond, she thrust her hand into her pockets, searching for something to offer him to eat. They were empty. She turned back to Hattie. “Do you have any food?”

  The woman nodded and reached for a battered red cooler just off the quilt. She lifted out a sandwich and handed it to Alanna. “Won’t do any good though.”

  Alanna unwrapped the turkey sandwich and broke off a small piece of meat. The bread wasn’t good for dogs. She went back to the shrub and held it out. “Here, boy, come on now. I won’t hurt you.” She placed the bit of turkey on the ground so Prince could easily grab it if he came out from the bushes, then she settled down to wait.

  The seconds stretched to minutes as she called gently for the dog. She was about to give up when she saw the leaves begin to rustle and a black nose poked out. “Good boy,” she said in a soft voice. “Come out to me.”

  The branches parted and the dog’s head came out, and she smiled. “You’re an Irish Setter.” One foster family she’d lived with bred setters. She had a favorite once and cried for days when he was sold. “Here you go. You can have it.”

  The emaciated dog crept close on his belly, then gently lifted the morsel from the ground. Alanna knew better than to try to touch him. She broke off another piece and laid it on the ground in front of him. He gobbled that up too. She continued until he’d devoured the entire piece of turkey except for one bite.

  She left that on her palm and extended it. His dark, sad eyes broke her heart. When he edged slightly closer and nuzzled the bite from her palm, she gently laid her other hand on his head and stroked his ears. Those ears went back in alarm, but she spoke soothingly to him, and he crouched lower on his belly.

  She ran her hands down his back and flank. “You’re so skinny, Prince. I’m going to fatten you up. Good boy, such a good boy.” She smiled when she saw his tail begin to gently wag. It was barely a movement, but she saw it. “No one will be hurting you with me here, lad.” She stroked and talked while he lay quivering.

  Hattie rose behind her and approached with a bag of chips in her hand. “Poor dog. He can have these too.”

  At the sound of her voice, Prince yelped and ran for the bushes. Alanna called to him, but he stayed in the bushes. Still, it was a start. “I’ll start bringing him scraps after meals until I can be getting him some dog food.”

  Hattie’s dark eyes shifted toward the house, then back. “Just don’t let anyone in that house know you’re feeding him. He’ll come up missing.”

  Alanna’s fingers curled into her palms. “What do you mean? Who would hurt him?”

  “I’ve said more than I should.” Hattie bent down to fold up her quilt. “I must get back. Just keep it to yourself. And remember where I live if you ever need me.” With her belongings under her arm, she picked up the cooler and set off in the direction of her house. Her long strides quickly took her out of sight.

  “Alanna!” Barry’s voice came from near the house.

  She waved at her husband, then looked around and saw Prince running from the bushes as fast as his legs would carry him. Poor pup. Frowning, she walked to meet her husband.

  He draped his arm around her. “I wondered where you’d gone, sugar. What are you doing out here?”

  “I wanted to be seeing the water, but the pier doesn’t look safe.”

  He turned her back toward the house. “It’s not. You need to stay off it. I’m going to have it repaired.”

  “Why has this place fallen into such disrepair, Barry, when you love it so much?” When he frowned, she knew she’d gone a little too far. “I mean, your place in the Battery is in perfect condition.”

  He stopped and gazed down at her. “I was waiting to marry. Here is where I want to raise a family. I wanted my wife’s input on how to restore it as well. Now that I’m married, it’s time.”

  She gulped, realizing he was saying he wanted a real marriage with her eventually. When would she be ready for that? Right now it felt like never. All she could manage was a smile as she took his hand and started back to the house.

  Ten

  Barry left her at the porch. “I’ve got some work to do at the office,” he said. “You’ll be okay until I get back?”

  She nodded. “My mates are coming out in a bit. We might practice on the porch or in the garden.”

  “Fine.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head and went around the side of the house. A few minutes later, his Mercedes rolled past. He waved, then the live oaks swallowed up the sight of his car.

  Alanna glanced at her watch. Ceol should be here in a few minutes. She had time to get warmed up. Opening the case, she lifted her fiddle out and grabbed the cube of rosin. After running the horsehair bow across the rosin, she settled her chin on the chinrest, closed her eyes, and laid her bow across the strings.

  A reel flew from her bow, and her bare feet slapped against the floorboards. Her long hair flipped around her shoulders as she danced across the porch with the scent of roses blowing against her cheeks. It was Liam’s favorite reel, and she imagined him sitting on the swing and smiling as he watched.

  Her smile faded as the music did the same. She lowered her instrument. The fiddle by itself left her lonely, and she glanced at her watch again. She thought her mates would have been here by now.

  The exertion had left her sticky and hot. It wouldn’t be any better inside with no air conditioning, so she sat on one of the rockers and fanned herself as she gazed out over the lovely landscaping of live oak trees, roses, and camellias. She should have stayed out on the other side of the mansion where the sea grass waved. It was cooler there.

  The place was as isolated as an island, and it was as if the city were hundreds of miles away. The sight of such beauty should have calmed her, but she felt strangely agitated.

  A vehicle rolled up the driveway. Squinting, she watched it come. The vehicle wasn’t Barry’s silver Mercedes, but a familiar blue van with a Ford emblem. Alanna stood and waved at the vehicle. The van stopped by a row of azalea bushes. Ciara hopped out of the passenger side and waved at Alanna. A wild rush of joy filled her. It had only been yesterday that she’d seen her best friend, but it seemed an eternity.

  “You’re in the boonies.” Ciara slammed the door behind her. “I nearly called for directions again. I passed by this laneway twice.”

  “Pretty though, isn’t it?” Alanna called back. Putting down the fiddle, she started for the steps. A man stepped out of the car, and she caught her breath. For just a second, with the sun in her eyes, the breadth of the man’s shoulders and the way he held his head made her think it was Liam come back to her. Then his bulk blocked the glare in her eyes and she saw his face.

  Jesse Hawthorne. If he had never showed up to take Liam for a drive, her husband would still be with her.

  In an instant, the horror of that night and the following days rushed over her. The flames, the heat, the agony of identifying his mangled body. She thought of it every time she saw Jesse. It was worse since the detective had told her he might have intended to kill Liam along with himself.

  She paused at the top of the steps. “What are you doing here?”

  Ciara stepped in front of Jesse. “Calm down, Alanna.” She motioned for him to follow her. “I know what Adams said, but give the bloke a chance.” r />
  He hadn’t given her husband a chance. Alanna bit her lip and said nothing as they approached. The sunshine threw the fading scars on his face into sharp relief, though the doctors had repaired much of the damage. He would still be a handsome man when the scars faded.

  A slight smile lifted his lips. “You look beautiful as ever, Alanna.” His voice still held a raw, husky edge from the damage done by heat and smoke inhalation.

  What was she supposed to say to that? Flattery didn’t erase the way he’d destroyed her life. In the end she said nothing, just continued to stare at him until he shuffled and dropped his gaze.

  “What are you doing here?” she repeated, her gaze flitting from him to Ciara’s pleading gaze.

  “I need a favor,” he said.

  Her eyes snapped back to his face. “You’re expecting me to do you a favor?” She didn’t bother to hide the incredulity in her voice. His light brown eyes held her gaze. Maybe it was the color that so reminded her of Liam. In college, they’d often been mistaken for one another from a distance and thought it great fun.

  “Takes cheek, you’re thinking, right?”

  “Did you kill Liam?” she asked, not caring when he winced. “You were talking about suicide. Did you try to kill yourself and take your best bloke with you?”

  “Don’t say such things,” Ciara murmured.

  Alanna turned a scowl on her friend. “Whose side are you on, Ciara?”

  Ciara narrowed her eyes. “Yours, mate. You need to listen and not make judgments. Barry is rubbing off on you already, is he?”

  Alanna swallowed back the harsh words forming. Ciara loved her and only wanted to help. She glared at Jesse. “For the last time, why are you here?”

  “I wish it were me that died and not Liam,” he said softly.

  “You don’t even remember him,” she said. “So I’m thinking that’s a nice platitude but hardly real.” She studied his face. “You haven’t regained your memory, have you?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t even recognize the face in the mirror every morning, but that doesn’t keep the guilt away of knowing I killed a friend, even if I can’t remember what happened that night.”

  She tried not to feel any pity, but she couldn’t imagine living such a twilight existence. “What do you want from me?”

  “A job.”

  Her eyes widened. “What kind of job?”

  “Liam is gone, but I can fill in for him. I’ve been taking drum lessons, and I’m pretty good at it. Better than I expected. Ciara said you need a percussionist. You need a drummer, and I need a job.”

  She shot an accusing glare at her friend. “You recruited him?”

  Ciara had the grace to look away at first, then lifted her chin and stared back at Alanna. “I did. We need a drummer, Alanna.”

  “Not just any drummer,” she blurted out. “And it’s more than drums. It’s the bodhran, the bass, and the shakers. A new drummer wouldn’t work.”

  “I’ve heard him, Alanna. He’s deadly good,” Ciara said. “Even on the bodhran. And you know how hard that is.”

  Alanna glanced back at Jesse. He stood with his feet planted apart and his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Liam used to stand just that way. The two men had shared many mannerisms after rooming together all those years, and it was even more disconcerting now than it had been when Liam was alive.

  Jesse’s gaze never wavered. “Give me a chance. I’ve been working hard on all of those things. I’m thinking I can do it.”

  Unbelievable, he was. “Why should I give you Liam’s job?” The thought of anyone taking her husband’s place on a permanent basis made her throat tighten.

  Ciara stepped in front of him. “We’re needing him, Alanna. Without a percussionist we’re going nowhere. At least listen to him.”

  Alanna beckoned her to the porch. “I want to talk to you.” Ciara sighed but went up the steps to Alanna. Alanna put her hands on her hips and glared at her friend. “I think he killed my husband. How can I see him every day knowing that?”

  “Adams is still just guessing. I can’t believe you’d think of turning down our chance at having a decent percussionist. You’re not usually being so judgmental.”

  “Judgmental?” Alanna took a step back.

  Ciara gripped Alanna’s forearm. “He’s learned some of Liam’s tricks, says he’s been listening to CDs of our songs. We can pick up where we left off. Even his mother said all he does is practice.”

  Alanna barely heard Ciara’s statement about Jesse’s ability. Her gaze went back to Jesse, who stood waiting patiently. Liam had loved this man.

  Still she didn’t think she could take seeing him every day.

  She opened her mouth to tell Ciara no, but the pleading expression in her friend’s eyes gave her pause.

  “Think,” Ciara said. “Where are we going to get a good percussionist on such short notice? We need to start practice right away, even if the studio isn’t done. Our first concert is right around the corner.”

  Ciara was right. Alanna needed to consider what was best for Ceol. She sighed and hunched her shoulders. “Let the bloke try.”

  “Shall we set up on the porch?” Ciara asked. “We’ll be having shade that way.”

  Alanna nodded and went to help haul up the equipment, but Jesse shooed her away.

  “Rest,” he said, his gaze going to her belly. He opened the back of the van and pulled out his bass drums.

  Alanna sat on the swing until they had the equipment set up. Fiona motioned for her to come join them. As she reached the area where the equipment was set up, Jesse began pounding away on the drums. Alanna stopped and listened to the staccato beat. Her lungs squeezed with pain as memories swept over her. The intensity on Liam’s face when he’d play, the way he flipped his hair out of his eyes, the careful way he cared for his instruments.

  She forced herself to listen as Ena snapped off pictures. Jesse wasn’t Liam, but he was good, more than passable. He must have practiced a lot during his recovery.

  Maybe she could deal with this.

  He glanced up when she approached. In the shadows she couldn’t see the scars from his plastic surgery at all. The surgeon had done a great job.

  He stopped drumming and continued to watch her. “Well?”

  “Not bad,” she said. “How about the bodhran?”

  Without another word, he left the drums and picked up the instrument on the porch, then sat down. He held the drum like Liam, resting it on his left thigh and forearm with his left hand acting as the “skin hand” so he could vary the pitch and timbre by where he touched the back of the skin. The tippers clicked against the skin at just the right times.

  Alanna couldn’t help herself. She grabbed her fiddle and lifted it to her chin. The dancing strains of a reel joined the fast thump of the bodhran. Closing her eyes, she danced in her bare feet across the worn floorboards of the porch. For just a minute she could imagine she was with Liam practicing before a performance. When she was done, he’d sweep her into his arms and dance around the room with her. She could almost feel his lips on her hair, the scent of his breath on her face.

  She finally realized Jesse had stopped drumming a few seconds before. She opened her eyes and dropped the fiddle away from her face. Her face was wet with tears, so she turned her back and dried it while she made a show of putting her fiddle away. When she faced Jesse and Ciara again, she hoped she was looking composed and serene.

  “I told you he was good,” Ciara said, her voice smug.

  “What do you say?” Jesse asked. “Will you give me a go at it?”

  Alanna wanted to be saying no, but she couldn’t come up with a reason that didn’t seem selfish. The days were ticking away, and they couldn’t go on tour without a drummer. Their futures hung on it. “All right. We’ll try it for a week.”

  Ena put down her camera. “Let’s run through our sets.” She picked up her pennywhistle and began to play the tune to “The Last Rose of Summer.”

  Fiona
began to sing the words in her crystal voice. Ciara harmonized with her. Alanna longed to sing with them, but she put her fiddle back to her chin and began to play. They ran through four songs. She had to admit Jesse was a passable percussionist. His competence with the bodhran surprised her.

  They were about to run through another song when a plume of red dirt behind the tires of a car attracted her attention. She squinted and shaded her eyes with her hand. “I think Barry’s back.”

  “Then I think I’m out of here,” Ciara muttered.

  Eleven

  Wait and say hello,” Alanna chided as her mate started off. Ciara stopped and turned back to join her, but her black eyes held rebellion. She twirled a cornrow in her fingers.

  Ena picked up her camera and snapped off a few shots of Jesse. Fiona stood twisting her necklace in her hands. Alanna went to meet Barry at the top of the steps.

  The Mercedes rolled to a stop, and Barry unwound from under the wheel. He pushed his blond hair off his forehead and smiled at them. “Hello. Good to see you, Ciara. You look as lovely as ever. Ena, Fiona.” He glanced toward Jesse. “You look much better than the last time I saw you in the emergency room. The surgeons have done well by you.”

  “I’m doing okay.” Jesse nodded toward the mansion. “Beautiful home you have here.”

  Barry beamed. “It’s been in my family for generations. Would you like a little tour?”

  Jesse glanced at his watch, then at Ciara, who quickly spoke. “We’d love a tour but not today, Barry. We have to be getting back. Thanks for the invitation though.”

  “Some coffee or tea at least?” he asked. “Since I had to go to town, I stopped for some benne wafers. Come on in. I’d like to talk to you about the plans for the studio, get your input.”

  Alanna noticed how Ciara’s smile seemed genuine. Maybe she’d thaw toward Barry eventually. “Come on, Ciara, you can be staying a little longer.”

  “Are you having any chocolate benne wafers?” Ciara asked.