Read Online Quinn's Deirdre by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy - Free Book Online Page B

it.
“Thanks, Des,” she said. “So do I .”
    If they made it through tomorrow, she
thought, and no dangers lurked, things would be as they should.   Please,
God, may it be so.
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    Deirdre awakened to the sound of rain
mixed with sleet against the window, but by the time she rose, the clouds had
moved eastward and the sun had emerged.   Quinn
slept as she dressed and made tea with a tin she’d brought up from the pub
kitchen, remembering his preference for it above coffee in the morning.   She thought about making breakfast until she
remembered his empty fridge and cabinets.   Deirdre abandoned the idea.   They
could grab something to eat anywhere.   Talking took priority today, not food.
    As she had on the morning she’d left
him, Deirdre watched him sleep, but this time when he awakened she wasn’t
attempting to sneak away or telling lies about shopping.   Instead, she sat curled up against the
pillows, and when he opened his eyes, she leaned over and kissed him.   Before he became fully awake, Quinn pulled
her into his arms and they snuggled without speaking.   She matched her breathing to his rhythms
until they inhaled and exhaled in tandem.   Their hearts beat together too and Deirdre gloried in it. For those
moments, they were almost one.   After a
time, Quinn stirred. “Woman, I suppose we should get up before ‘tis noon.”
    She burrowed closer to him, resting one
hand on his chest. “We should.   I made
tea but that was awhile ago.”
    He nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Ye
can make fresh tea, love. Its likely gone cold.”
    “Or we could stay right here.” In
another few moments, she’d be ready to make love.  
    “Ye’re a temptation, Deirdre.” Quinn’s
warm voice wafted over her skin with enough heat to send ripples down her
spine. “But we must talk, darlin’.”
    They sighed in unison. “You’re
right.”   It had to happen and they might
as well get it done.   After she made fresh
tea, Des brought up rashers of Irish bacon and brown bread.   After the simple meal, Deirdre reached for
her purse.  
    “Ye’ll want to wear a coat if ye have
one,” Quinn said as he pulled on the Navy pea coat he’d bought years earlier.
    “Where are we going?”
    “The loch,” he said.
    Deirdre adored the way he said the word
in his soft accent, ‘lock’, and she knew what lake he meant.   Although Quinn loved water and the often
treacherous waters of the mighty Missouri River flowing through the city, his
favorite place was Blue Springs Lake.   They’d spent many an afternoon along the wooded banks, sometimes fishing
or picnicking, or just sitting quiet beside the water.   “I’ll see if I can find a jacket,” she said,
pleased.
     
    * * * *
     
    Her red canvas coat cut the sharp wind
whipping across the parking lot as Deirdre climbed out of Quinn’s Mercury at
the lake.   She flipped the hood up over
her head and when Quinn put an arm around her, she huddled against him.   “If ye’re too cold, we can go elsewhere.”
    “No, this is fine. I love this
place.   It won’t be so cold when we get
behind the hill.”
    They trekked to their favorite spot and
Quinn led Deirdre to a park bench. “I don’t remember this being here,” she
said.
    Quinn laughed. “It wasn’t.   I dragged it here myself so I’d have a place
to sit when I came out to stare at the water and mourn ye.   I never thought I’d bring ye here again, mo chroi.”
    His simple statement packed an emotional
punch.   This is going to be harder than I thought.   “But here we are.”
    He nodded and scooted back until a foot
separated them.   Quinn crossed his arms,
a gesture she remembered well.   It demonstrated
he meant to be serious now. “So, tell me why ye left the way ye did, without a
word or bit of hope.”
    The moment of truth she’d dreaded had
arrived.   Deirdre took one deep breath
and plunged into her story.   “I was
afraid,” she said. “On the day of the