Born in Shame
Page 82
“Yes. It hurts.”
“I know, darling.” He gathered her close. “I know it does. The heart has to break a little to make room.”
“I want to understand.” It was so comforting to rest her head on his shoulder. The tears didn’t burn then, and the pang in her heart lessened. “It would be easier to accept when I understand why they all made the choices they made.”
“I think you understand more than you know.” He turned so that they faced the sea again, the crashing and endless symphony of wave against rock. “It’s beautiful here. On the edge of the world.” He kissed her hair. “One day you’ll bring your paints and draw what you see, what you feel.”
“I don’t know if I could. So many ghosts.”
“You drew the stones. There’s no lack of ghosts there, and they’re as close to you as these.”
If it was a day for courage, she would stand on her own when she asked him. Shannon stepped back. “The man and white horse, the woman in the field. You see them.”
“I do. Hazily when I was a boy, then clearer after I found the broach. Clearer yet since you stepped into Brianna’s kitchen and looked at me with eyes I already knew.”
“Tom Concannon’s eyes.”
“You know what I mean, Shannon. They were cool then. I’d seen them that way before. And I’d seen them hot, with anger and with lust. I’d seen them weeping and laughing. I’d seen them swimming with visions.”
“I think,” she said carefully, “that people can be susceptible to a place, an atmosphere. There are a number of studies—” She broke off when his eyes glinted at her. “All right, we’ll toss out logic temporarily. I felt—feel—something at the dance. Something strange, and familiar. And I’ve had dreams—since the first night I came to Ireland.”
“It unnerves you. It did me for a time.”
“Yes, it unnerves me.”
“There’s a storm,” he prompted, trying not to rush her.
“Sometimes. The lightning’s cold, like a spear of ice against the sky, and the ground’s hard with frost so you can hear the sound of the horse thundering across it before you see it and the rider.”
“And the wind blows her hair while she waits. He sees her and his heart’s beating as hard as the horse’s hooves beat the ground.”
Clutching her arms around her, Shannon turned away. It was easier to look at the sea. “Other times there’s a fire in a small dark room. She’s bathing his face with a cloth. He’s delirious, burning with fever that’s spread from his wounds.”
“He knows he’s dying,” Murphy said quietly. “All he has to hold him to life is her hand, and the scent of her, the sound of her voice as she soothes him.”
“But he doesn’t die.” Shannon took a long breath. “I’ve seen them making love, by the fire, in the dance. It’s like watching and being taken at the same time. I’ll wake up hot and shaky and aching for you.” She turned to him then, and he saw a look he’d seen before in her eyes, the smoldering fury of it. “I don’t want this.”
“Tell me what I did, to turn your heart against me.”
“It isn’t against you.”
But he took her arms, his eyes insistent. “Tell me what I did.”
“I don’t know.” She shouted it, then, shocked by the bitterness, pressed against him. “I don’t know. And if I do somehow I can’t tell you. This isn’t my world, Murphy. It’s not real to me.”
“But you’re trembling.”
“I can’t talk about this. I don’t want to think about it. It makes everything more insane and impossible than it already is.”
“Shannon—”
“No.” She took his mouth in a desperate kiss.
“This won’t always be enough to soothe either of us.”
“It’s enough now. Take me back, Murphy. Take me back and we’ll make it enough.”
Demands wouldn’t sway her, he knew. Not when she was clinging so close to her fears. Helpless to do otherwise, he kept her under his arm and led her back to the truck.
* * *
Gray saw the truck coming as he walked back to the inn and hailed it. The minute he stepped up to Shannon’s window he could sense the tension. And he could see quite easily, though she’d done her best to mask it, that she’d been crying.
He sent Murphy an even look, exactly the kind a brother might aim at anyone who made his sister unhappy.
“I’ve just come back from your place. When you didn’t answer the phone, Brianna started worrying.”
“We went for a drive,” Shannon told him. “I asked Murphy to take me to Loop Head.”
“Oh.” Which explained quite a bit. “Brie was hoping we could go out to the gallery. All of us.”
“I’d like that.” She thought the trip might dispel the lingering depression. “Could you?” she asked Murphy.
“I have some things to see to.” He could see it would disappoint her if he made excuses, and that she wouldn’t talk to him now in any case. “Could you hold off for an hour or two?”
“Sure. We’ll take Maggie and the monster with us. Rogan’s already out there. Come by when you’re ready.”
“I need to change,” Shannon said quickly. She was already opening the door as she glanced back at Murphy. “I’ll wait for you here, all right?”
“That’s fine. No more than two hours.” He nodded toward Gray, then drove off.
“Tough morning?” Gray murmured.
“In several ways. I can’t seem to talk to him about what happens next.” Or what happened before, she admitted.
“What does happen next?”
“I have to go back, Gray. I should have left a week ago.” She leaned into him when he draped an arm over her shoulder, and looked out over the valley. “My job’s on the line.”
“The old rock and a hard place. I’ve been there a few times. No way to squeeze out without bruises.” He led her through the gate, down the path, and to the steps. “If I were to ask you what you wanted in your life, for your life, would you be able to answer?”
“Not as easily as I could have a month ago.” She sat with him, studying the foxglove and nodding columbine. “Do you believe in visions, Gray?”
“I know, darling.” He gathered her close. “I know it does. The heart has to break a little to make room.”
“I want to understand.” It was so comforting to rest her head on his shoulder. The tears didn’t burn then, and the pang in her heart lessened. “It would be easier to accept when I understand why they all made the choices they made.”
“I think you understand more than you know.” He turned so that they faced the sea again, the crashing and endless symphony of wave against rock. “It’s beautiful here. On the edge of the world.” He kissed her hair. “One day you’ll bring your paints and draw what you see, what you feel.”
“I don’t know if I could. So many ghosts.”
“You drew the stones. There’s no lack of ghosts there, and they’re as close to you as these.”
If it was a day for courage, she would stand on her own when she asked him. Shannon stepped back. “The man and white horse, the woman in the field. You see them.”
“I do. Hazily when I was a boy, then clearer after I found the broach. Clearer yet since you stepped into Brianna’s kitchen and looked at me with eyes I already knew.”
“Tom Concannon’s eyes.”
“You know what I mean, Shannon. They were cool then. I’d seen them that way before. And I’d seen them hot, with anger and with lust. I’d seen them weeping and laughing. I’d seen them swimming with visions.”
“I think,” she said carefully, “that people can be susceptible to a place, an atmosphere. There are a number of studies—” She broke off when his eyes glinted at her. “All right, we’ll toss out logic temporarily. I felt—feel—something at the dance. Something strange, and familiar. And I’ve had dreams—since the first night I came to Ireland.”
“It unnerves you. It did me for a time.”
“Yes, it unnerves me.”
“There’s a storm,” he prompted, trying not to rush her.
“Sometimes. The lightning’s cold, like a spear of ice against the sky, and the ground’s hard with frost so you can hear the sound of the horse thundering across it before you see it and the rider.”
“And the wind blows her hair while she waits. He sees her and his heart’s beating as hard as the horse’s hooves beat the ground.”
Clutching her arms around her, Shannon turned away. It was easier to look at the sea. “Other times there’s a fire in a small dark room. She’s bathing his face with a cloth. He’s delirious, burning with fever that’s spread from his wounds.”
“He knows he’s dying,” Murphy said quietly. “All he has to hold him to life is her hand, and the scent of her, the sound of her voice as she soothes him.”
“But he doesn’t die.” Shannon took a long breath. “I’ve seen them making love, by the fire, in the dance. It’s like watching and being taken at the same time. I’ll wake up hot and shaky and aching for you.” She turned to him then, and he saw a look he’d seen before in her eyes, the smoldering fury of it. “I don’t want this.”
“Tell me what I did, to turn your heart against me.”
“It isn’t against you.”
But he took her arms, his eyes insistent. “Tell me what I did.”
“I don’t know.” She shouted it, then, shocked by the bitterness, pressed against him. “I don’t know. And if I do somehow I can’t tell you. This isn’t my world, Murphy. It’s not real to me.”
“But you’re trembling.”
“I can’t talk about this. I don’t want to think about it. It makes everything more insane and impossible than it already is.”
“Shannon—”
“No.” She took his mouth in a desperate kiss.
“This won’t always be enough to soothe either of us.”
“It’s enough now. Take me back, Murphy. Take me back and we’ll make it enough.”
Demands wouldn’t sway her, he knew. Not when she was clinging so close to her fears. Helpless to do otherwise, he kept her under his arm and led her back to the truck.
* * *
Gray saw the truck coming as he walked back to the inn and hailed it. The minute he stepped up to Shannon’s window he could sense the tension. And he could see quite easily, though she’d done her best to mask it, that she’d been crying.
He sent Murphy an even look, exactly the kind a brother might aim at anyone who made his sister unhappy.
“I’ve just come back from your place. When you didn’t answer the phone, Brianna started worrying.”
“We went for a drive,” Shannon told him. “I asked Murphy to take me to Loop Head.”
“Oh.” Which explained quite a bit. “Brie was hoping we could go out to the gallery. All of us.”
“I’d like that.” She thought the trip might dispel the lingering depression. “Could you?” she asked Murphy.
“I have some things to see to.” He could see it would disappoint her if he made excuses, and that she wouldn’t talk to him now in any case. “Could you hold off for an hour or two?”
“Sure. We’ll take Maggie and the monster with us. Rogan’s already out there. Come by when you’re ready.”
“I need to change,” Shannon said quickly. She was already opening the door as she glanced back at Murphy. “I’ll wait for you here, all right?”
“That’s fine. No more than two hours.” He nodded toward Gray, then drove off.
“Tough morning?” Gray murmured.
“In several ways. I can’t seem to talk to him about what happens next.” Or what happened before, she admitted.
“What does happen next?”
“I have to go back, Gray. I should have left a week ago.” She leaned into him when he draped an arm over her shoulder, and looked out over the valley. “My job’s on the line.”
“The old rock and a hard place. I’ve been there a few times. No way to squeeze out without bruises.” He led her through the gate, down the path, and to the steps. “If I were to ask you what you wanted in your life, for your life, would you be able to answer?”
“Not as easily as I could have a month ago.” She sat with him, studying the foxglove and nodding columbine. “Do you believe in visions, Gray?”
