"He has to be stopped."
"Oh, there's no stopping Tim once a wager's made."
Unable to find the humor, Shannon shot Maggie a searing look. "You think it's funny? People I don't even know are betting on me?"
Maggie didn't have to think it over. "Yes." Then with a laugh, she grabbed Shannon by the shoulders and shook. "Oh, cool yourself down. No one can make you do what you don't want."
"Murphy Muldoon is a dead man."
With less sympathy than amusement, Maggie patted her cheek. "Seems to me you'd not be so fired up if you were as disinterested as you claim. What do you think of the matter, Brie?"
"I think I've said more than enough." But her heart pushed the words out. "He loves you, Shannon, and I can't help but feel for him. I know what it is to tumble into love and not be able to find your way out, no matter how foolish it makes you. Don't be too hard on him."
Temper drained as quickly as it had flashed. "It would be harder, wouldn't it, for me to let this go on when it isn't leading anywhere?"
Maggie picked up the sketchbook, then held out the page where Murphy looked out. "Isn't it?" When Shannon said nothing, Maggie set the book aside again. "The ceili's more than a week away. You'll have some time to sort it out."
"Starting now." Shannon picked up the watercolor and carried it inside. On the way up to her room, she practiced exactly what she would say to Murphy when she tracked him down.
It was a shame that she would have to break off their friendship just when she'd begun to realize how much it meant to her. But she doubted he would understand anything less than total a
mputation.
And he'd brought it on himself, the idiot. With an effort, she controlled herself long enough to prop the canvas carefully against the wall of her room. Going to the window, she scanned the fields. After a moment she caught sight of movement near the back of the house.
Dandy. She'd beard the beast in his den.
Her headlong rush took her down the stairs and outside. She was halfway to the gate before she saw the car parked at the side of the road, and Brianna and Maggie on either side of it.
She didn't have to see to know an argument was in full swing. She could hear it in the sharp, impatient tone of Maggie's voice. It would have been easy to continue on her way-but she saw Brianna's face.
It was pale, and rigidly controlled, except for the eyes. Even from two yards away, Shannon could see the hurt in them.
She set her teeth. It seemed it was her day for dealing with emotional crises. And damn it, she was in the perfect mood.
The angry words came to an abrupt halt as she strode to the car and looked down at Maeve.
"Shannon." Brianna gripped her hands together. "I never introduced you to Lottie. Lottie Sullivan, Shannon Bodine."
The woman with the round face and beleaguered expression continued the process of climbing out from the driver's side.
"I'm pleased to meet you," she said with a quick, apologetic smile. "And welcome."
"Get in the car, Lottie," Maeve snapped. "We're not staying."
"Drive yourself off then," Maggie snapped right back. "Lottie's welcome here."
"And I'm not?"
"It's you who's made that choice." Maggie folded her arms. "Make yourself miserable if you like, but you won't do this to Brie."
"Mrs. Concannon." Shannon nudged Maggie aside. "I'd like to speak with you."
"I've nothing to say to you."
"Fine. Then you can listen." Out of the corner of her eye, Shannon caught Lottie's nod of approval and hoped to earn it. "We have a connection, you and I, whether we like it or not. Your daughters link us, and I don't want to be the cause of friction between you."
"No one's causing friction but herself," Maggie said hotly.
"Be quiet, Maggie." Shannon ignored her sister's hiss of temper and continued. "You have a right to be angry, Mrs. Concannon. And to be hurt, whether it's your pride that's suffering or your heart, it doesn't matter. Still, the fact is you can't change what happened, or the result of it any more than I can."
Though Maeve said nothing, only continued to stare fiercely straight ahead, Shannon was determined to finish.
"My part in this whole thing is rather indirect, a result rather than a cause. Whether or not you were part of the cause doesn't really matter."
That brought Maeve's head around, and the venom spewing. "You'd dare to say that I caused your mother to commit adultery with my husband."
"No. I wasn't there. My mother blamed no one, certainly not you, for her actions. And what I'm saying is it doesn't matter what part you played. Some might say that since you didn't love him, you shouldn't care that he found someone else. I don't agree with that. You have all the right in the world to care. What they did was wrong."
Maggie's next protest was cut off by a cold look from Shannon. "It was wrong," she said again, satisfied that no one interrupted. "Whether you look at it morally, religiously, or intellectually. You were his wife, and no matter how dissatisfied either of you were in the marriage, that should have been respected. Honored. It wasn't, and to find out it wasn't after all these years doesn't diminish the anger or the betrayal."
She took a quiet breath, aware that Maeve's attention was centered fully on her. "I can't go back and not be born, Mrs. Concannon. Nothing either of us can do will break the connection, so we're going to have to live with it."
She paused again. Maeve was watching her now, and intrigued, her eyes narrowed. "My mother died with my hard words between us. I can't fix that, either, and I'll regret it all my life. Don't let something you can't change ruin what you have now. I'll be gone soon. Maggie and Brie and your grandchildren are right here."
Satisfied she'd done her best, Shannon stepped back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go murder a man."
She started down the road, had gotten no more than five paces when she heard the car door open.
"Girl."
Shannon stopped, turned, and met Maeve's gaze levelly. "Yes?"