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responsible adults. Where’ s the mess in that?’
    ‘I only have one.’ He hesitated. ‘Sorry, two relatives, and they both live on the opposite side of the world from me. I never know what is happening in their lives. Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know there was a second child I should be aware of. This, to me, is a mess.’
    He had a valid point. Despite the photos and Olivia’s drawings she’d sent him, he didn’t really know his niece. Whose fault was that? But they weren’t really talking about Olivia. It was Seamus who hung between them, divided them.
    ‘You wouldn’t believe the number of times I tried to ring and tell you about Seamus. I even wrote letters to you, included photos in with some of them.’
    ‘Odd I never got them.’ Disbelief dripped off his tongue in great dollops.
    Hurt, she cried out, ‘I can give them to you any time you want. I’ve still got them all.’
    ‘I don’t see the point now.’ He turned toward the door, the conversation over. At least the disbelief had abated. Then he looked over his shoulder at her. ‘One thing. Do any of the staff here know I’m the father of your son?’
    ‘Absolutely not.’
    ‘There’s something I can be grateful for, then.’
    Raw pain gripped her. Was he ashamed of his son? In all the scenarios her mind had tossed up, not one had included Kieran feeling like that. Shame she could not cope with. ‘You’re not giving any of us a chance.’
    His smile was professional; confident and cool. ‘You think so? How’s this for a chance? I’ll visit you and the children later this afternoon. Will that suit you?’
    And if it didn’t? But she could see in his now chilly eyes that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Anyway, she wanted him to see the kids, meet his son. She wanted it over and done with. Her stomach couldn’t take too much more tension. ‘Come for dinner. Six o’clock.’ Obviously he didn’t want her to deliver him to his apartment.
    ‘You eat dinner at six?’
    ‘No, the children do. We’ll eat after they go to bed.’
    He pulled the door open, held it wide for her to pass through. ‘You still live on the same road as when I was here for the wedding?’
    She sighed. What did he know about any of them? ‘Yes, but don’t forget I’m in the cottage next to the orchard. David and Morag’s place.’
    ‘I’ll see you at six, then.’ He strode along to the nurses’ station, leaving her shaking in his wake.
    She stared at his ramrod back and wished him back in Ireland. Then she’d be able to go back to the simple problemsof raising two small children while holding down a responsible job, of making her dollars go twice as far as they were intended to, of looking out for her father and high-maintenance twin sisters. Easy, compared to dealing with an angry, hurt man who had claim to her family.

CHAPTER THREE
    K IERAN’S head pounded, and his eyes were gritty. He drove carefully, aware of the tiredness threatening to engulf him. That enormous bed back in the apartment arranged for his stay had been tempting but, given the state of his mind, sleep would’ve been impossible.
    Why the hell had he said he’d go out to the cottage tonight? What had happened to the idea of getting settled before seeing the children? Abigail had happened, that’s what. Damn, but she got to him so easily. So much for his renowned self-control.
    H OPE . The green road sign drew his attention, and he eased his foot off the accelerator. If he remembered correctly, the turn-off to Abigail’s place wasn’t much further.
    H OPE. The small community that boasted one store and a café, a cluster of houses, and orchards for as far as he could see. He swallowed as goose-bumps lifted his skin. A community. A place where families grew up. Families like Max Brown’s. Max was Abigail’s father and had raised four children in this district, had buried his wife here, lost his son in a tragic accident, welcomed his granddaughter. And his grandson.