years?”
“True enough.”
She fell uncharacteristically silent, which encouraged him to ask, “Was there something else on your mind?”
“Is it true that you’ve been matchmaking between my mum and Peter?”
Dillon chuckled. “Ah, she told you that, did she? It’s true. I always thought they were well suited. Of course, that was the kiss of death back when they were young. If I said there was a pot of gold to the north, your mum would head south just to spite me.”
Moira laughed. “And you think she’s changed?”
“No, which is why I’ll be keeping my mouth firmly shut tonight,” he said. “If there’s any matchmaking to be done, I’ll leave it to you.”
“I can see it, too,” she confessed. “That they’d be good together. Wouldn’t it be lovely if something came of it after all this time?”
“It would,” Dillon agreed. “Your mother deserves to find some happiness. She wasn’t always bitter and sad the way she’s been since your dad took off.”
“I know. I see glimpses of it from time to time. Do you suppose she and I can make peace?” she asked, her tone plaintive.
“She and I have,” he said. “So there’s always hope. We’ll see if tonight can give us a start on that.”
In fact, he vowed to do his part to give things a push in that direction. He had a feeling that if Moira was to find her own happiness—with Luke or someone else—she needed to believe she was worthy of love. Circumstances and Kiera’s own bitterness had done their part to rob her of that self-confidence. It was past time to fix that, too. For a man his age, it seemed he still had a lot to accomplish.
Peter refused to let Moira wait on a single table while her mother and grandfather were in the pub.
“Enjoy your family,” he said. “Bask in their admiration.”
She would have, but she was too nervous. As Dillon and Kiera circled the room, pausing in front of the photos, Moira waited behind the bar, polishing mugs despite Peter’s best efforts to get her to stop hiding out. She couldn’t help noticing that Peter seemed almost as anxious about their reactions as she was.
“Well?” he prodded, when they finally headed back toward the bar. “Is she as amazing as I think?”
“I’m stunned,” Kiera said, a smile on her face. “Moira, they’re truly remarkable.”
Moira flushed at the praise. “Do you mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” her mother insisted, then glanced briefly at Peter. “Thank you for encouraging her.” She looked away almost the instant the words were out of her mouth.
“It’s been my pleasure,” Peter said, his gaze on Kiera steady, despite her doing her best to avoid it. “I would have done the same for anyone, but it’s meant more that it was your daughter I was helping.”
The color in her mother’s cheeks heightened at his words. So, Moira thought, her mum wasn’t immune to him, after all.
She slipped out from behind the bar and tucked her arm through her grandfather’s, then steered him away from the others to stand in front of one of the photos. “You haven’t said much.”
“You’ve left me speechless,” he admitted. “I feel as if I know those people, not as I always have, but as if I’ve had a glimpse inside them. This is more than a hobby, Moira. You’ve a talent you should be nurturing.”
Tears stung her eyes. “You have no idea what it means to me to have you say that. I’m almost starting to believe I could make a go of this.”
“Then it’s something you truly want?”
She nodded. “I’ve never allowed myself to believe it could happen. I was always the screwup, the rebellious one, not suited for anything I was learning in school. I talked a bit to Jess O’Brien about that feeling when she was here. She said she’d felt much the same way till she opened her inn.” She met his gaze. “I think, in some ways, it’s the same with Luke and his pub.”
“I think it is,” her grandfather agreed. “If
“True enough.”
She fell uncharacteristically silent, which encouraged him to ask, “Was there something else on your mind?”
“Is it true that you’ve been matchmaking between my mum and Peter?”
Dillon chuckled. “Ah, she told you that, did she? It’s true. I always thought they were well suited. Of course, that was the kiss of death back when they were young. If I said there was a pot of gold to the north, your mum would head south just to spite me.”
Moira laughed. “And you think she’s changed?”
“No, which is why I’ll be keeping my mouth firmly shut tonight,” he said. “If there’s any matchmaking to be done, I’ll leave it to you.”
“I can see it, too,” she confessed. “That they’d be good together. Wouldn’t it be lovely if something came of it after all this time?”
“It would,” Dillon agreed. “Your mother deserves to find some happiness. She wasn’t always bitter and sad the way she’s been since your dad took off.”
“I know. I see glimpses of it from time to time. Do you suppose she and I can make peace?” she asked, her tone plaintive.
“She and I have,” he said. “So there’s always hope. We’ll see if tonight can give us a start on that.”
In fact, he vowed to do his part to give things a push in that direction. He had a feeling that if Moira was to find her own happiness—with Luke or someone else—she needed to believe she was worthy of love. Circumstances and Kiera’s own bitterness had done their part to rob her of that self-confidence. It was past time to fix that, too. For a man his age, it seemed he still had a lot to accomplish.
Peter refused to let Moira wait on a single table while her mother and grandfather were in the pub.
“Enjoy your family,” he said. “Bask in their admiration.”
She would have, but she was too nervous. As Dillon and Kiera circled the room, pausing in front of the photos, Moira waited behind the bar, polishing mugs despite Peter’s best efforts to get her to stop hiding out. She couldn’t help noticing that Peter seemed almost as anxious about their reactions as she was.
“Well?” he prodded, when they finally headed back toward the bar. “Is she as amazing as I think?”
“I’m stunned,” Kiera said, a smile on her face. “Moira, they’re truly remarkable.”
Moira flushed at the praise. “Do you mean that?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” her mother insisted, then glanced briefly at Peter. “Thank you for encouraging her.” She looked away almost the instant the words were out of her mouth.
“It’s been my pleasure,” Peter said, his gaze on Kiera steady, despite her doing her best to avoid it. “I would have done the same for anyone, but it’s meant more that it was your daughter I was helping.”
The color in her mother’s cheeks heightened at his words. So, Moira thought, her mum wasn’t immune to him, after all.
She slipped out from behind the bar and tucked her arm through her grandfather’s, then steered him away from the others to stand in front of one of the photos. “You haven’t said much.”
“You’ve left me speechless,” he admitted. “I feel as if I know those people, not as I always have, but as if I’ve had a glimpse inside them. This is more than a hobby, Moira. You’ve a talent you should be nurturing.”
Tears stung her eyes. “You have no idea what it means to me to have you say that. I’m almost starting to believe I could make a go of this.”
“Then it’s something you truly want?”
She nodded. “I’ve never allowed myself to believe it could happen. I was always the screwup, the rebellious one, not suited for anything I was learning in school. I talked a bit to Jess O’Brien about that feeling when she was here. She said she’d felt much the same way till she opened her inn.” She met his gaze. “I think, in some ways, it’s the same with Luke and his pub.”
“I think it is,” her grandfather agreed. “If
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