Read Online Night Of The Blackbird by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page A

Jeff Dolan and her brother.
    â€œOh, no,” Colleen breathed. “They’ve seen us together.”
    â€œSo what?” Moira whispered.
    â€œI said I wouldn’t sing until you showed up.”
    â€œColleen!” Moira protested.
    â€œHey, folks, we’ve got a special performance for you this evening,” Jeff announced over the mike. “The prodigal daughters have returned for Saint Patrick’s Day. We’re going to get them both up here for a special number in honor of all the Irish in America—and remember, on Saint Patrick’s Day, all Americans are a wee bit Irish!”
    â€œDaughters, go on now,” Eamon said proudly.
    â€œCome on up, Kelly girls,” Jeff said, encouraging them determinedly. “Ladies and gentlemen, a real treat. The Kelly girls. No one can do a rendition of ‘Danny Boy’ with quite such melodious Irish beauty.”
    â€œWhat do we do?” Colleen whispered. “I can’t believe they’re doing this to us. I haven’t even heard the song in ages.”
    â€œUm. Not since the last time we were here,” Moira said dryly. “I guess we go up there. We can’t hurt Dad.”
    Danny had instigated this. She knew it. She walked toward Jeff, trying to ignore Danny with casual negligence as she took the mike. “Irish-American melodious beauty,” she said, smiling at Jeff and apologizing to the patrons in the pub. “No guarantees, but we’ll do our best.”
    The first strains of the violin brought a sigh from the crowd. Moira reflected briefly that, with this particular audience, she and Colleen could have sung like two crows and sentiment alone would have evoked wild applause. But she did love the song, and she and Colleen had done it together since the Saint Pat’s program at church when they had been in grammar school. Her sister’s voice harmonized perfectly with hers. They might not have produced the most melodious Irish beauty ever, but they did the song proud. She loved the music. There was a magic to it, to being home, to singing with Colleen…and even in knowing that Daniel O’Hara was playing a soft beat on the drums behind her.
    Naturally the crowd went wild when they ended the tune. Of course, here, it was singing to a group of proud relatives. Moira smiled along with Colleen, thanking those who called out compliments. She felt an arm around her, and before she could completely stiffen, she realized it was her brother.
    â€œPatrick, hey.” She hugged him.
    â€œWhat about me?” Jeff protested.
    Jeff Dolan looked like a latter day hippie. She gave him a hug and a kiss. Jeff had put himself through the wringer. On drugs, off drugs, politically wild—protesting everything from toxic waste to government spending. He’d survived. Cleaned up. He was still an activist, but one with temperance and vision. At least, she hoped so. She gave him a warm hug, along with the three other regulars, Sean, Peter and the odd man out, Ira, an Israeli.
    â€œDid you notice me back here?” Danny asked her. “Or am I supposed to line up?”
    â€œDanny,” she murmured, trying to sound as if missing him was an oversight. She kissed his cheek perfunctorily. “How could anyone ever forget you?”
    He grinned, catching her after the kiss, hugging her tightly and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. She escaped his touch as quickly as possible. It was far too easy to underestimate Danny. The quick strength with which he held her belied the lean appearance his height afforded him. Energy always seemed to radiate from Danny. In a flash of time, she felt as if her flesh burned.
    â€œGood to see you, Danny,” she murmured.
    â€œSomething light, fellows,” Jeff instructed the band members.
    â€œâ€˜Rosie O’Grady,”’ Ira suggested.
    Stepping from the stage, Moira looked across the room to the bar—and froze. Josh and Michael were in