The Mighty Quinns: Ronan (4 page)

“Look what the cat dragged in!” A young man walked through the room, giving Ronan the once over. He resembled Charlotte with her bronze eyes and wavy dark hair. “If I were you, I’d leave right now. It’s Indian food.”

“Isaac, this is Ronan Quinn.”

Isaac’s eyebrow shot up. “You brought a Quinn home? Maybe I will stay for dinner.” He turned around. “Hey, Abs, come and see what Charlie brought home.”

In less than a minute, Ronan realized that he probably should have opted for dinner alone. He could feel the energy in the house, as if the walls were vibrating and the roof was about the blow off.

An older woman appeared in the dining room, her graying hair twisted into a haphazard knot on top of her head. She held a fly swatter in her hand. “Hello, dear. You brought a friend. I’m cooking Indian tonight. Chicken tandoori. I was supposed to marinate the chicken in yogurt, but I had to use cottage cheese instead. And Delbert didn’t have anything called garam masala down at the grocery, so I had to leave that out. You don’t know what that is, do you?”

“Mama, this is Ronan Quinn. He’s going to be helping us out for a few weeks.”

She blinked in surprise. “Quinn? Really. Well, now, that’s very interesting. We’ll have something good to talk about over dinner. I suppose you haven’t had a very enthusiastic welcome in town. But our family really doesn’t set much store in that curse. Charlotte, offer the man a drink.”

“Curse?” Ronan asked.

“Is this the Quinn?” A young woman, about nineteen or twenty came running into the room. “I’m Abigail. Gosh, I almost expected you to have horns and a forked tail. You’re totally hot.” She turned to Charlie. “Good move, sissy.”

“Charlie, if that’s you, I need you in here right away.”

“That’s my dad,” she said. She grabbed Ronan’s hand and pulled him along through the spacious living room. “Come on. Let’s introduce you to the big guy. Then I’ll get you that drink.”

When Charlie had called her father the “big guy”, she’d used an apt description. The man sitting behind the desk in the library was tall and broad-shouldered. He struggled to his feet and held out his hand. “Peyton Sibley,” he said.

“Daddy, this is Ronan Quinn. He answered the ad I put up at the visitor’s center. He’s from Seattle and he knows a lot about boats.”

“Well, Charlotte, that was a lovely introduction,” Peyton said as he sat down again, “but maybe we should let this young man speak for himself. You say your name is Quinn?”

Ronan nodded.

“I suppose you haven’t had a very enthusiastic reception here in Sibleyville.”

“Nobody has really explained that to me, sir. Maybe you could.”

“No, no, no. We don’t really believe in all that silliness. So, you think you can help us out here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You just listen to Charlotte. She’ll teach you the ropes. If you get stuck working with my brother, Jake, do not let him goad you into talking about religion, politics or his three ex-wives. And if you’re staying for dinner, please tell my wife that whatever she’s been cooking all day—”

“Tandoori chicken,” Charlie said.

“I have no idea what that is, but I’m sure I’ll regret it in another four to six hours.” He opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a big bottle of antacid tablets. Peyton popped a few into his mouth and offered the bottle to Ronan. “Might want to get a jump on it.”

“No, that’s fine, sir. I have a pretty strong stomach.”

He slammed his hand on the surface of his desk. “Charlotte, I approve! Put this man on the payroll. Anyone who calls me ‘sir’ can’t be all bad. Even if he is named Quinn.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” Charlotte said. She grabbed Ronan’s arm and pulled him along, back out into the foyer. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“For a Quinn,” Ronan muttered.

“Why don’t you go sit out on the porch and I’ll get us something to drink,” she said.

Ronan nodded and headed back outside. He walked to the end of the porch and sat down on a swing. As he pushed off with his toes, he felt the movement relax him. This entire day had been just a little strange. And the longer it lasted, the stranger it became. Except for one thing—that kiss he’d shared with Charlie.

He drew a deep breath. That had been the only thing that made perfect sense to him. And he didn’t want to wait to do it again.

“I hope beer is all right,” Charlie said as she walked out the front door. She glanced around, then saw him on the end of the porch and slowly approached. She handed him the bottle, then leaned up against the railing and watched him. “Are you all right?”

“Maybe you ought to tell me why everyone in Sibleyville has a problem with me. I think I need to know a little more about this curse.”

She sat down beside him, her shoulder brushing against his. It was an innocent contact, but it sent his senses spinning. He could feel her warmth, smell her hair, listen to the soft sound of her voice. She excited him and relaxed him all at once. How was that possible?

“It’s really kind of silly. And it’s not you. Just your last name.” She paused as if to gather her thoughts. “Her name was Bridget Quinn, but everyone called her Bridie. She lived in Sibleyville about a hundred and fifty years ago and worked as a maid in my great-great-great grandfather’s home. She came from Ireland with her daughter to escape the potato famine. Her daughter, Moira, fell in love with Edward Sibley, my great-great-grandfather and they wanted to get married, but his father refused permission. When Edward wouldn’t give up Moira, his father started a rumor that Bridie was a witch and the folks in Sibleyville ran her and her daughter out of town. But before she left, Bridie cursed the town.”

“Good for her,” Ronan said. “What was the curse?”

“That no one would ever find love within the village limits of Sibleyville. And no one ever has.”

Ronan frowned. “The curse worked?”

“In one hundred and fifty years, no man and woman from Sibleyville have ever married each other. To find love, we have to go out of town. We even have a matchmaker who helps out with that.”

“But Sibleyville is pretty small. That isn’t unusual.”

“For one-hundred and fifty years?” She shrugged. “There was one couple and every one thought the curse would be broken, but it didn’t work out.”

“Who was that?”

“Just a couple of infatuated kids.” She turned and gave him a smile. “You want to see something really cool?”

“Sure,” Ronan said.

They walked around the house to the backyard, a large expanse of grass surrounded by deep gardens and a white picket fence. A huge oak tree stood at the rear of the lot and Charlie led him over to it and pointed up.

Hidden amidst the leafy boughs was an intricate tree house with all the gingerbread detail of the main house. “Oh, man. Look at that. I always wanted a tree house when I was a kid.”

“Pull on the rope and a ladder will drop down.”

Ronan did as she told him and climbed the ladder. When he was halfway up, he turned to look down on her. “Are you coming up?”

“Right after you,” she said.

He had to open a trap door to get inside, but once he was standing, he was amazed at the amount of room in the little house. Charlie joined him, then closed the trap door.

Hinged wood panels covered the top part of the walls and Charlie pulled each panel up and hooked it overhead, allowing the breeze to blow through the tree house. Ronan stood at one of the windows and looked down into the yard. “I can barely remember my childhood,” he said. “I know I should be able to, but all of it was so…dark.”

Charlie stood next to him, leaning in until her shoulder rubbed against his. “You can’t remember one happy time?”

“No.” He stared down at her, transfixed by the strange color of her eyes. “We didn’t have the freedom most kids have. You know, what I’m talking about. The time to be completely carefree, without any responsibilities. From the time my parents disappeared, we all had a job to do. We had to work hard and help my grandfather because he was good enough to take us in.” Ronan had never really opened up about his childhood, but now, he couldn’t seem to stop talking.

“Was there any doubt that he would?”

Ronan shrugged. “Probably not. But when you’re an orphan, you’re always living on the edge of disaster. At least, that’s what we thought. We just never laughed. It was almost as if having fun would have been disrespectful to the memory of my parents. Even though I know they would have wanted us to be happy.” He glanced over at her, and shook his head. “I’ve never talked about this before. Not to anyone.”

“I’m a good listener,” Charlie said.

“You are.” He smiled and she turned to him. And instant later, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her lips parted and she let the kiss play out, their tongues teasing and tasting. And when she was finished, she stepped back.

“Please tell me that’s part of the job.”

“If it was, we probably wouldn’t get much else done,” Charlie said. “I just thought it was important that we got that out of the way.”

He chuckled softly. “You’ve been thinking about it?”

“No,” she said. “I mean, yes, I was. It just seemed to be hanging between us, so I thought I’d get it out there so we wouldn’t have to keep wondering.”

“I’m not sure that worked,” Ronan said. “Because now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

* * *

R
ONAN
STOOD
ON
the pier, staring down into the skiff. Charlie held out her hand, sending him an encouraging smile. “We’re not going anywhere. You’re just going to step into the skiff and sit for a while. I promise, we won’t untie the lines from the dock. Come on. Baby steps.”

After a rollicking dinner with her family, Charlie was grateful for the relative peace and quiet of the waterfront. Gulls circled above and every now and then, the strains of a rock song drifted out the door of a nearby pub. It was a perfect summer night, a cool breeze blowing off the ocean, the water calm. And now that she was alone with Ronan, all she could think about was kissing him again.

Her mind wandered back to their encounter in the tree house. Charlie had never been a patient person. When there was something to be done, she just got it done. Apparently, that now applied to men. She’d felt the attraction between them, knew what he was thinking about and couldn’t help herself.

Thankfully, Ronan didn’t seem to mind a more aggressive approach. It was obvious that he enjoyed the kiss. But this next time, she was going to let him take the lead. She didn’t want to seem like some love-starved fool—even though that’s exactly what she felt like.

“You said you swim. What’s different about that water?” Charlie asked.

“It has sides,” he said. “The pool has sides. And a bottom. And no sharks or killer whales.”

“All right,” she said. “This river has sides. We’re on one side and you can see the other right over there,” she said, pointing toward Newcastle. “And I can assure you, it has a bottom. About twenty feet down in the center. Does that make you feel better?” She wiggled her fingers. “Baby steps.”

Taking a deep breath, Ronan stepped off the dock into the skiff. “There you go,” she said, reaching out to give his hands a squeeze. “See, that wasn’t so bad. How do you feel?”

“Good,” Ronan murmured. He quickly stepped out of th skiff and back onto the dock. “Surprisingly good.” He rubbed his hands on the front of his shorts. “I’m really not feeling bad at all.”

“All right. I’m going to let you decide what we do next. When you’re ready.” She sat down in the seat behind the controls and waited.

He stepped down into the boat again. “I don’t feel so bad.”

“You could sit here next to me. See how that feels.”

He did as he was told, his fingers clutching onto the back of the seat.

Charlie leaned toward him. “You could kiss me again,” she suggested.

“I think that might just confuse my issues.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need.”

He grinned and shook his head. “Why don’t you start the engine?”

Charlie sat behind the wheel and turned the key. An instant later, the outboard rumbled. She watched Ronan, but nothing in his expression changed. “We could just take a little ride across the river. That might be a good start.”

He nodded, fixing his gaze across the river at the destination. “All right. Let’s go. Just do it before I can say no.”

She tossed off the lines, then lowered the engine into the water and pushed the throttle into reverse. The skiff was easy to maneuver, low in the water and wide enough to offer a stable ride. Charlie kept a close eye on Ronan, but he seemed remarkably calm.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” he said. “Do I look all right?”

“You look good. I—I mean, you look calm.”

“I don’t feel calm. I feel like I’m ready to jump out of my skin.” He drew a ragged breath. “Go faster.”

“Not around here,” she said. “No wake. But if we go further down the river we can.”

He nodded. “All right, let’s go.” Charlie turned the boat down the river. Like most of the waterways on the seacoast of Maine, it was really more of a narrow point in an estuary. The water in Sibleyville was brackish and still affected by the tides.

Charlie smiled against the cool evening air as it blew through her hair. She couldn’t think of a more perfect end to the day. There was every chance that Ronan would kiss her again and maybe, after that, something more intimate might happen.

She couldn’t deny that she’d considered the possibility. She was a young, healthy woman, with normal sexual desires. It was easy to forget those desires when there was no possibility of satisfying them. But this man had suddenly dropped into her life. It was only natural to take advantage, right?

The river widened significantly south of Sibleyville, pushing the shores out into the distance. She slowed the boat, wondering at Ronan’s reaction. “We can turn back if you like.”

Ronan shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Battle Cove is right over there,” she said. She brought the skiff around and headed toward the entrance to the cove. It was a pretty little spot that she used to come to with her siblings when they wanted to swim in the summer.