Spitfire (Puffin Cove) (4 page)

"Why, hello Kane, dear
. How's it all goin' then? Keepin' well up there at the farm, are ya?"

George
and Moira Sullivan were sitting in a booth, having their Friday night dinner out.

Moira, the unofficial town matriarch, had appointed herself Kane's surrogate aunt that first autumn he had come to Newfoundland, and kept on top of his business doings, his farm doings, and despaired of his lack of social doings
. Her fading red hair, generous bosom and twinkling eyes really did remind him of his aunts back home. And just like they did, she drove him batshit half the time.

He tried hard not to resent her well-meaning interest in his life
. Not a lot new happened in small towns, and even after almost four years he was still new and interesting. So he swallowed his quick spurt of irritation and turned on his stool to hop down.

"Moira, leave the poor man alone
. He doesn't need you constantly badgering him about his life," George grumbled to his smiling, eyelash batting wife.

"Moira, me love, when are
ye gonna throw this man over, run away with me and be me muse?" Kane winked at George and swept to their table. He lifted Moira's hand to his lips, and gave it a smacking kiss.

"Oh, you,
" she giggled, her cheeks colouring. She swatted his hand and waved her napkin in front of her face. "Why, you carve birds, not silly old women. I can't be your muse."

"
Well, ye just let me know if this young man doesn't treat ye right and I'll challenge him fer yer hand. We'll duel t' the death fer ye, me queen," he said with dramatic flair, winked again at George, and turned back to his seat at the bar.

Landon
shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Jesus. You know you're just encouraging her."

They both looked back at the booth to see Moira laughing at something
George was leaning over the table to whisper to her, their hands clasped together. Kane had an unbidden moment of sharp longing, a keen stab of pain that he no longer had what they did.

H
e gave himself a mental shake.
Shite.
He really was a friggin' girl.

Sweeney pushed through the swinging kitchen door, carrying a tray loaded with
plates piled high with fish and chips, and a basket of thickly sliced bread.

"Lord, that smells good
. Sweeney, if ye looked as good as ye cook ye'd be feckin' gorgeous." Kane snatched a slice from the basket.

"Get stuffed, Downey," the barkeep grinned good naturedly
.

"Mm
. Good bread," Kane muffled around a mouthful. "Jill's?"

"Course
. Haven't been able to sneak anything else by for years. Last year when her oven went kaput and I had to serve a replacement I had a bloody revolt on my hands. Girl's spoiled my customers for anything but her baked goods."

Kane remembered
. He'd had a hell of a time getting that old monstrosity up and running again. He tried to talk her into getting a new one, but she would have no part of it. "There's nothing wrong with it that you can't fix," she'd said. Sometimes her confidence in his dubious abilities scared him.

"And when are you going to make an honest woman of the girl?
" Moira piped up.

George
cleared his throat with a harrumph and Sweeney suddenly found a very stubborn spot on the bar.

When no-one answered, Kane turned around on his stool
.

Jaysus.

"Would ye be talkin' to me, Mrs. Sullivan?" He knew what a lot of people thought, but was ever amazed at the woman's brazen forthrightness.

"Well,
" she drew out. "You two do spend a lot of time together. We all just assumed…" she trailed off, her voice getting small.

His temper simmered low
. Time to nip this one in the bud. For good. "Ah, fer the love o' God, ye can't be serious. She's ten years me junior."

Moira shrugged apologetically
. Resigned, his burner snicked down another notch. "Oh, aye. I suppose I can figure why ye might think it. Jill was me first friend when I came here and I do love her."

Moira's eyes lit up and she clasped her hands under her chin
.

"Like a sister.
"

She deflated like a popped balloon
. Kane smiled at the predictability of the old bat.

"She is a beautiful girl inside and out, and a wonderful mother
. Any man would be lucky t' have her," he told Moira as his eyes softened.

Landon
snorted into his beer.

"Problem, Blood?
" Kane raised an eyebrow as he turned back to the bar, and met the eyes of his friend in their reflection in the mirror.

"Oooh no, Irish
. No problems here." Landon dipped his shoulders closer to the bar and lowered his voice. "I got no problem with you goin' all pansy on me. I got no problem with you thinking that twerp is God's gift to friggin' man. Granted, she can bake, and she doesn't turn your stomach to look at her. But, God, she's a real twit," he smirked. "Drove me and Nick and Will mental when we were kids. Full of piss and vinegar then. Pain in the ever lovin' ass, but entertaining as all hell. Now, she just sits up there in her cottage, baking and…mothering. You'd think she'd get bored of her own company up there day in and day out. But if you think she's great then more power to you." He gripped his glass and drank.

Chapter Four

The gust of
wind blasted the door out of the woman's grip. She winced as it slammed against the padded railing and hauled it back, shutting it with an apologetic click. She dragged her dishevelled auburn mane off her face and glanced frantically at the room in general.

"Bathroom
?
Bathroom!"
She danced from foot to foot on the threshold and got a pointed thumb from Sweeney standing behind the bar. She raced past, and slipped into the loo.

Sweeney and his patrons had looked to the door to see who the wind had blown in
. To a man, and woman, their eyes grew a little wider and a little sharper when they hadn't recognized one of their own.

"Tourist," grumbled
Landon, turning back to his beer. All Kane had caught was a glimpse of black, topped with rust, and a slash of bright green in between. Smelled good though. The scent left behind the whirlwind was soft and alluring, with a hint of jasmine, woods and spice.

"And glad ol' Sweeney here'll be that they're back
. Been a long cold winter lookin' at nuthin' but the likes o' our sorry faces since last fall," Kane argued. "Where would he be, or you for that matter, if we didn't have fresh faces, not t' mention money, comin' through town half the year?"

"Yeah, well
. Doesn't mean I have to like it. And when the hell did you become the fuckin' welcome wagon?" Landon drained his glass and slid it forward. "Fill 'er up, Sween old man. Better get my bottle goggles on and see what this year's crop looks like."

"
Blood, if ye were any sweeter I might have to kiss ye," Kane grinned. How did a young man get such an ornery crust on him? And how the hell did such an ornery young man get so much tail? Not that he minded a bit. Landon
was
a very great source of entertainment.

"Like hell, Irish
. I wouldn't have your slobbery lips on me if I was paid."

Sweeney built two more pints for the boys and settled his
beefy hands on the bar to watch the coming show. Kane gave the barkeep a wink. He loved Sweeney's pub, and was glad that the padding of his accounts through the summer and early fall kept him afloat through the leaner winter months, and kept his establishment open for the town folk as well as himself. Truth be told, Sweeney was moving a bit slower these days, but Kane would bet that he'd die behind his bar if given the choice. He had told Kane one cold winter's night during his first year here that his life had been lived in this place, learning the ropes from his father before him. Many a tear had been drowned and a glass been raised in celebration in his pub, and he counted himself a lucky man to be doing what he loved. And it showed.

Thank God!
Laura voided her bursting bladder and sat for a minute, collecting her breath. Perfect. Such a very nice way to make a first impression. She pulled herself back together and left the stall.

Grimacing at the mirror, she told her reflection "Get a grip,
Spencer. Put on some lipstick and make a pretty face."

The old doll coming through the door pretended nonchalance,
but Laura noticed an eagle eye swiping her up and down and up again, mercurially taking her in.

"Everything alright, deary?
"

Laura
whipped around and her hair clip clattered to the sink.

"Oh!
" she huffed out a chuckle. "Much better now thanks."

She was still coming down from the adrenalin rush of her near miss with the moose
. Her legs were a little steadier, but her hands still shook as she washed them. And Lord! The smell of whatever was on the menu had turned her stomach into a whining toddler.

The older lady went into the stall as
Laura slashed on some lip gloss. She tried to make some presentability of the rat's nest on her head, gave it up for lost, and went back through the door to the pub.

"Mainlander," Moira whispered to George as she slid back into the booth. "Jumpy. Talks to herself, too."

"For the love of God, woman,
" George hissed back. "Must you be the first vulture on the cadaver every time?"

"Bet your hiney, my love
. And don't tell me you haven't been waiting to find out what's what." She patted his cheek.

Laura slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar, sniffing appreciatively, and smiled into Sweeney's eyes. "Whatever your cook is making smells fantastic."

"The cook would be me, and it's cod and chips today
. Sweeney, of the pub of the same name." He stuck out his thick hand for a shake, and folded it around Laura's smaller one.

"Thanks for letting me be so rude as to blast through your door without so much as a hello
. I had a bit of a run-in before town and it shook me up some." Laura shook out the napkin Sweeney handed her and placed it on her lap.

Sweeney quirked an eyebrow, but
Laura didn't elaborate. "Can I get you a drink while I fix your meal? Got a nice Chardonnay, a good Cab-Merlot…"

"Actually, I was going to have a cup of coffee, but my nerves are so jangled that I think I might have a beer
. What's on tap?"

She looked across the bar at the requisite bottles of liquor, all well organized and pleasantly arranged
. The mirror behind the bottles sparkled a repetition of the tiffany lighting over the booths, showing her a reflection of several couples and a family seated behind her. She caught the interested gaze of the woman from the loo. Laura smiled and waggled her fingers. The lady returned her smile with a blush and a flutter of her napkin, and cuffed her harrumphing husband on the arm.

"How 'bout a
Guinness? It's not our native beer but it is a favourite around here."

"Oh, that's a dark beer right
? I've never had it."

That earned a snort from down the bar and she looked toward the rather rude noise
. There were two suspects, so she wasn't sure which one was the owner of the derisive sound. Both were turned slightly toward her, appraising. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Sweeney.

"
Guinness it is, then," she pronounced with a nod.

"First one's on me,
" the blonde told Sweeney. Laura looked over to see the leer on the otherwise quite handsome face. "Landon Blood, my lady. At your service." He mocked a bow from his bar-stool throne.

"Uh...
" She hated to be rude, but she had heard lots of come-ons over the years. And this dude was a cookie-cutter womanizer if ever she'd seen one. Still, she knew that Newfoundlanders were a truly hospitable breed.

"Thank you,
Sir Landon. You may call me Laura. Only the serfs in my kingdom from away have to call me 'my lady'." She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed imperiously.

"Ooo, I like you already,
Laura from away. How'd you come to fall into this den of iniquity?" Landon leaned toward her and blasted her with his full-on, megawatt smile.

Kane watched the goings on with his usual interest
. But tonight it kind of pissed him off. Could the randy bastard not leave it in his pants for once? Besides, the lady was too old for him. He enjoyed hanging out with his buddy down in the city once in a while, watching the twenty-eight year old horn-dog bag girl after girl. They flocked to him like bees to honey. And they never seemed to go away mad. Kane couldn't figure it. He thought all women wanted a good man, a solid, steady man. But Landon had a way of playing with his current toy, getting bored with it and moving on to the next without any consequences. At least not any that Kane had heard of. And Landon would be the first to let his friend know if there were fireworks, good or bad. At least Landon had the good sense not to shit in his own nest. He kept his carousing to the big city. Kane had never known him to date anyone from the Cove.

Landon
watched Laura blink slowly at him. The familiar, stunned look in her eyes gradually recovered and unglazed. He was used to women falling about themselves when he flashed his smile their way, and capitalized on it. Regularly. He hoped that she might be just passing through, and that he might get her number. As long as she wasn't taking up residence, he was not averse to tapping a more mature babe, and this one was pretty damn hot.

Landon
smiled to himself as Kane kept his eyes on his beer and the newcomer explained her appearance at the pub. "I was headed north and came this close to hitting a moose just before town." She pinched her thumb and index finger into an inch space. "It rattled me. So I figured that I'd better take a breather and start fresh tomorrow." She sipped at her beer. "Hey, this stuff's not so bad once you get past the first bitterness."

Kane
pulled in a sharp breath and Landon jerked his head sideways to watch his surly friend's eyes flare. "A moose! Jaysus bleedin' Christ on a crutch! Do ye know how lucky ye were? This time o' day's the worst fer moose/vehicle accidents. Ye've got t' drive slow and keep and eye out. Bleedin' tourist," he muttered and turned back to his beer.

"Well, who's your charming friend?"
Laura asked Landon.

"Mind your manners, Irish
. What the hell's got into you? Say hello to Laura and stop being such a shit." Landon was actually shocked. Kane could be pretty grumpy at times, but he had never known him to be purposely rude to a total stranger before.

Laura
's husky chuckle rolled to Landon. "No worries, mate. I've known my share of bad manners." She leaned forward to whisper, "Some people just can't help being assholes."

Landon
choked out a laugh and Sweeney mocked a point for Laura in the air.

"Oh, yeah
. I like you just fine, Lady Laura."

Kane slid his ass off the stool and planted his booted feet on the floor
. "Well, I'm off to me own devices, boyo. Watch yerself gettin' to where yer goin', Spitfire." He tossed some bills onto the bar and stalked out into the wind without a backward glance.

Landon
watched with amusement as Laura eyes followed that ass as he went.

Stupid bleedin' tourist. Didn't she know that she could easily have been killed?

Kan
e figured the cream Touareg was hers. Parked like shite, too. But, Jaysus, she was gorgeous. All that glorious auburn hair, the dusting of freckles across her nose, those luscious full lips. And a body with enough curves to give a man something to hold onto. Why people felt the need to clad themselves head to toe in black was beyond him. He supposed she would figure that bright green scarf and the scuffed up boots would disguise the fact that she was a big city girl slummin' in the country. Give a woman enough money and she could buy the fancy hair and come-get-me body. But it wouldn't change the shallow urban-dweller inside. And Lord, she smelled like sin. Almost made his head reel. Even the pretentious car fit the picture.

But those eyes
.
Jaysus
. The flash of irritation in the green irises fired his belly. If he hadn't been so irrationally incensed he might have admitted to himself that all those shades of green flecked with tiny bits of brown called to him. There had been a second when he had wanted to drown in them, so strongly had they had made him think of the hills and glens of his homeland. He wondered if the green would get brighter or deeper when she came.

Well, Jaysus,
Mary and Joseph
.
Where the hell did that come from?

He slammed shut the poor unsuspecting door of his truck, shaking loose a clump of rust
. Gravel scattered in a rooster tail as he peeled out onto the road.

From his seat at the bar, Landon watched out the window, his chin on his fist, a speculating gleam in his eye.

Kane Downey, you're in an unnatural flap.

"So, Lady Laura. Where you headed?" Landon was very curious to know, and watched with frank interest as she devoured her meal.

Laura
moaned as the crisp batter melted in her mouth, making way for the tender, flakey cod. She sprinkled vinegar and salt on the chips, sucking one in to her mouth and rolling her eyes in rapturous gastronomic delight.

"Well, I really have no idea," she garbled around an
endearingly unladylike mouthful. "I'm just following my nose. And I am so very glad that it lead me to this delicious fish!"

"Our Sweeney might not look like it, but he's a wizard in the kitchen
. And wait 'til you taste Bainbridge Baked Goods. Sell them up at the café on the corner. You'll have to try some before you hit the dusty trail." He was now hoping that Laura would stay a spell. Things could get very interesting around this little podunk town.

"I was planning to head up to maybe Harbour Grace tonight before I got too tired to drive anymore.
" Landon felt his grin dim a bit. "But after my very close moose sighting I think I should probably call it a night here. Is there a motel or anything in town?"

"Heading for Harbour
Grace? You'd be on the wrong trail, there darlin'."