Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele
Part 3: House of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter Nineteen: Secrets
Saturday, 3 December 1988 -- 36 weeks, 2 days
Laura took a moment longer to disconnect her end after she heard the “click.” She sat against the pillows
in the guestroom at Frances’ house. Remington sounded utterly exhausted, as he should be. Glancing at
the clock, she figured he’d been awake for thirty hours straight.
The little bedroom she stayed in was pure Frances, decorated with soft rose chintz and delicate figurines.
The guest bed had an antique quilt in every shade of pink, from the palest to the deepest in swirling
patterns. There was probably a name for the pattern, but Laura didn’t know it.
She traced her finger along the stitching, bored with working crosswords and watching TV. Frances
walked in carrying a lunch tray complete with a sandwich, fruit and a giant glass of milk.
“Really, Frances, I can sit at the table,” Laura said.
“Did your doctor say that? No, she didn’t,” Frances admonished.
“What’s the difference between my sitting at a table and my sitting in bed?”
“I have no idea, but the doctor gave you very specific instructions.”
“Frances!” A trace of what might have been a whine emerged from Laura.
Her sister shook her head. “That might have worked when you and Kate were at home, but I have three
kids now. You won’t get away with it anymore.”
“But Frances, I’m bored out of my mind.” That was a whine.
“Then you’ll behave for three more days because you won’t want to do this for the next month. Imagine
how bored you’ll be then?” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Besides, this is the last chance you’ll have
for peace and quiet for a long time--and a decent night’s sleep.”
“As if anyone can sleep with this little one tossing and turning all night,” Laura complained as she picked
at the sandwich.
Frances smiled knowingly. “I remember that. Just when you need to sleep the most, they keep you up.
It doesn’t change when they are born either.” Taking pity on her sister, she relented, “I’ll tell you what.
I’ll compromise. You can lie on the sofa so you won’t be lonely. The kids are dying to talk to you.”
“Please,” Laura begged, “I’d love their company. It’s not even been a day, and I’ve worked a dozen
crosswords, finished my book and watched two movies. I’m itching to get a stack of files from the
office, even though I know there’s nothing to do there because of the holidays.”
“All right. But Donald is going to want to watch football.”
Laura smiled, a genuine one. “This is me. Kate and I love football. Stanford is playing at one.
Watching it with someone else will be infinitely preferable to cheering by myself in here.”
“Speaking of Kate, I called her last night.”
“Oh, Frances. You didn’t tell her.”
“I did. She’s insisted that if you don’t keep her posted daily, that I do. I promised I would.
Laura didn’t like having Frances arranging her life and threw up her arms in frustration. “I don’t like
people having to take care of me.”
Frances just smiled at her. “Laura, this is the first time you have ever asked for my help. I’m thrilled to
be able to do something for you. Give yourself a break. Remington and Siobhán are in Ireland, and you
are on bed rest. It calls for a helping hand.”
Giving her a mutinous glare at first, Laura subsided. “Thank you, Frances.”
Her sister shrugged. “Look at it this way; it could be Mother at your beck and call.”
Laura shuddered. “Don’t threaten me with that. By the time Tuesday comes, the doctor would have to
check me into the hospital. That’s not exactly what I want Remington to find when he comes home.”
“How did he handle your being on bed rest?”
“I haven’t told him,” she admitted.
“Laura!”
“Frances, he’s got his hands full with Siobhán. He doesn’t need this too. Hopefully, on Tuesday, I’ll get
an all clear, and I can tell him afterward.”
“Why did they go to Ireland now?”
Choosing her words carefully, Laura said, “She has only a few days to retrieve some of her things before
the house is turned over to another family.”
“How sad. I suppose you two didn’t have a chance to take care of this before now.”
Laura nodded. “We had hoped it wouldn’t happen until after the baby is born.”
“Well, perhaps it’s best this way. It will be over and done.”
Relieved that Frances wasn’t going to pursue the conversation, she only agreed.
Football kept her occupied for the rest of the day. The Stanford Cardinal played the California Golden
Bears to a 19-19 tie. Donald and Danny helped her root for Stanford, which made her happy.
Afterward, they watched USC stomp UCLA--causing Laura to mutter mild obscenities that made Danny
snort in his soft drink. Not that she really rooted for UCLA; she just despised them a little less than USC.
By eleven she lay in bed, entertained by the baby’s movements while she flipped channels and waited for
Remington to call. She didn’t have to wait long, for ten minutes later the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Laura.”
She smiled at the way he drew out her name. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, actually.” She heard him breathing before he asked, “Is it my imagination or did you sing me to
sleep last night?”
“I did.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or mortified--a grown man needing a lullaby to fall asleep.”
“Perhaps I’ll ask you to sing to me.”
“Laura, there are a great many things I’ll do for you. That isn’t one of them.”
She laughed. “That’s all right. Unless our son or daughter is lulled to sleep at the same time, it doesn’t
really matter.”
“Is the baby keeping you awake?”
“For a while each night we have to have our little gymnastics routine until we’re all settled. After that,
we can go to sleep.” Changing the subject, Laura asked, “How did yesterday go?”
“As well as to be expected, I suppose. There’s more anger buried under Siobhán’s sweet face than I
anticipated. She’s harboring a great deal of resentment towards Johnny. Do you know no one has told
her why she lived with him as she did and why her name was O’Callaghan?”
Shocked, Laura replied, “No. I assumed she knew the whole story.”
“So did I. I promised I would tell her today.”
“I wish I was there, Rei.”
“Aye, love. I do too.”
Laura caressed her belly for a moment, worrying about the pair of them. “What’s on your agenda
today?”
“We’ve finished her room; now we’ll take a peek at the rest of the house, although I doubt she’ll keep
much of it. She doesn’t seem to want any part of it. Love, you wouldn’t believe the jewelry Johnny
gave her. Most of it is hardly appropriate for a society matron, much less a young girl.”
“She doesn’t wear jewelry.”
“No, she threw it all across the room in a temper, angry because Johnny would give her a box at
Christmas and her birthday.”
“What did you do?”
“Kept a watch and pair of earrings that are tasteful and told Andrews to sell the rest. He’ll put the money
in a trust for her. If she ever regrets not keeping any of it, we’ll have the watch and earrings to give her.”
Laura smiled. Sometimes Remington could be terribly thoughtful and compassionate--still a wonder to
her given his upbringing. “Very smart, Mr. Steele.”
“It’s nice that you think so. All right, Mrs. Steele, what are you keeping from me?”
Shocked, Laura sat straight up in bed. “What do you mean?”
“Laura, I’ve known you for six bloody years. I think I know the sound of your voice when you’re hiding
something. Come on. Come clean with me. Something happened and you’re not telling me.”
She sat on the bed with the phone held to her ear for a long minute before she finally admitted, “I didn’t
want to worry you.”
“I’m already worried wondering whatever in the hell it is that you’re hiding.”
She sighed. “I’ve been put on bed rest until Tuesday. My blood pressure has gone up quite a bit in the
last two weeks. Dr. Berger wants me to stay in bed and relax to get it to go back down.”
“What are the risks to the baby?”
“Mostly early labor. She’s not terribly worried since I only have four or so weeks left, but she would
rather I made it to term.”
“So would I. What happens if your blood pressure doesn’t come down?”
Unhappily, Laura clutched the telephone a little harder. “I’ll be on bed rest until the baby is born.”
Silence reigned as Remington digested the news. “Do we know why this happened?”
“Dr. Berger thinks it’s due to stress. She … told me not to work any cases.”
“I gather you haven’t told her about our little problem.”
“No, and Frances pitches a fit every time I try to look at the pictures.”
“With good reason.”
“Rei, I have to try. I’ve done my best to do nothing today other than watch football to keep myself
distracted.”
“Who won?”
“Tie 19-19. Don’t try to sidetrack me, Mr. Steele.”
“Sorry, love. Habit. I’ll make a deal with you, Laura.”
“What’s that?”
“The three of us are safe for the time being. When I get home, I’ll go over every inch with you.
Between the original photos, the set I took and the set Carter took, we’ll find whoever is behind this.”
“What do you mean, ‘the set Carter took’? Kaleb didn’t give me any pictures.” Laura narrowed her
eyes. “What exactly did I miss here?”
She heard a sigh. “I had Carter shadow me while we flushed out our friend. I disguised myself, but
didn’t change my basic character so that the target could identify me. Carter, on the other hand, I had
hidden in every manner possible so that he could take pictures of whoever had his eye on us.”
Laura bit her lip before letting her anger out. “Damn you, Remington. When were you going to fill me
in on this little gambit? I received a stack of photos of you in every single disguise. I thought we’d
blown the whole thing.”
“Laura, I needed your reactions to be honest when you figured out whatever cover I was using. If I had
told you beforehand, you would have kept yourself from looking for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s the detective in you, love. The moment you walk into a room or out on the street, you
automatically scan the people and environment around you. It’s part of staying aware of your
surroundings. Cops do it all the time. So do criminals--the good ones anyway. When we were out there
with the cameras, you scanned the area, found me and kept going--just as you should do. But if I had
told you that Carter was following me, you would have done the same with him. I knew I’d done a good
job hiding him when you didn’t penetrate his cover. Your eyes never stopped on him, not once.”
“So, you’re saying I gave you away?”
“Laura, we’re dealing with a different kind of criminal here--one who is extraordinarily observant. He
would have to be in order to avoid having both of us notice him. Three days, love, and I still didn’t get a
bead on him. I think Carter’s photographs are our only chance of catching the bugger.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re not succeeding. In any case, I didn’t see Kaleb on
Friday because of my doctor’s appointment.”
“Then they are probably on your desk.” She heard him swear under his breath. “Good Lord, Laura, I
should have told you. Then when you received your little gift from our friend, you would have known
that I’d meant to be seen. No wonder you’re distressed.” She could hear the self-recrimination in his
tone.
Laura looked up at the ceiling, grimacing as the baby found some sort of organ to shove against. She lay
down on her side with the telephone to her ear. “Rei, it’s okay. I know now. I’ll call Kaleb to make
sure the photos are at the office.”
“Promise you won’t go after them right now?”
“I promise. I don’t think Frances would let me past the front door anyway. I think everyone is
conspiring against me. Fred insisted on bringing me here, so I don’t have a car. Frances will let me sit
on either the bed or the couch, and that’s all. Kate admonished me on the phone earlier. And absolutely
no one is telling Mom anything because she’ll drive us all crazy.”
“Sounds as if you’re in good hands.”
“Yeah, but the only hands I want to be in are yours.”
“Now that sounds like a proposition, love.”
Laura groaned. “I’m not even sure we can make sex work at this point. If we do, we’ll have to be in the
dark so I don’t frighten you away.”
“Laura, I’ve told you before that I find you deliciously attractive while pregnant.”
“You just like my breasts.” She grimaced. It had been months since she could get away with not
wearing a bra during the day.
“Side benefit. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed--long and delightedly. “I love you, Mr. Steele.”
“Another side benefit. Means everything.”
“Why do I always feel better after we talk? We haven’t solved anything?”
“I have no idea. Go to bed, love. I’ll call you tomorrow, same time.”
“All right. Give Siobhán a hug for me.”
“That I can do. Goodnight, love.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Steele.”
Laura rolled to her back to hang up the phone, remembered she couldn’t breathe in that position and
rolled to the other side. The baby jockeyed for his or her own comfortable position. When they both
settled, they fell asleep nearly instantly.
Remington knocked on Siobhán’s door to wake her. An hour later, he pulled out of the hotel parking lot
to drive to Siobhán’s prior home. She’d been unnaturally quiet again, so he opened the conversation.
He scratched the back of his head as he spoke. “Johnny Carlisle and Denis O’Callaghan used to be
friends of an odd sort. Ran together, played a bit. Did a lot of questionable things in their day.
Somewhere in there, they fell for the same girl, a pretty one by the name of Erin Brennan. From what I
understand, she had a difficult time choosing from the pair, for she cared for both men. But Denis had a
way with words and flattered her into marrying him.
“ ‘Twas only afterwards she discovered he had a mean streak and a temper. Right or wrong, she took
solace with Johnny and found herself pregnant. She tried to make things right with Denis, but he figured
out as you grew older that you weren’t his kin.” He glanced at her, wondering if she was listening.
“You’ve got Johnny’s grey eyes, a stór, and we already know how the family looks breed true,” he said
in an aside.
Returning to the story, he continued. “Erin brought you to Johnny when you were five to keep you safe
from O’Callaghan. Then, because she’d said the vows of marriage, she went home to Denis. Johnny
protected you the only way he knew how with all the enemies about that he’d made. He put you
somewhere safe and surrounded you with a handful of people he trusted. The word on the streets was
that he’d kidnapped you after Erin died, out of revenge and love for her.”
Remington downshifted as he hit a decent straightaway, speeding up to make the trip a little shorter. “It
wasn’t true though. You know that from the letter ye mum wrote ye when she took you to live with
Johnny.”
Siobhán ventured her first question. “How did my mother die?”
Remington flinched. He’d hoped not to have to answer that one. He reached over to stroke her hair. “I
don’t know for certain. I only know the rumors I’ve heard--but the word was that Denis had her killed
not long after she gave you to Johnny.”
“Where is he now?”
“Denis?” Remington scrambled to only disclose the bare minimum of the truth. “Ah, he was captured in
April, and someone killed him while he was in jail.”
Siobhán turned to face him. “Was it Johnny?”
“You’re not a silly girl, are you?” He gave her a hard look as he took the exit to the Carlisle Manor.
She toyed with a curl of hair. “I heard … things. Johnny really did love my mother, didn’t he?”
“Yes, Siobhán, he did. He cares for you … even if he has a poor way of showing it at times.”
“If I hadn’t been born, my mother might still be alive.”
His heart tore a little. “Don’t do that to yourself, a stór. Your parents made their own choices. You are
the very lovely result of those circumstances.” He pursed his lips as he stopped the car in front of the
gates. “Siobhán, my mother died having me. I’ve often regretted being alive if it meant her sacrifice.”
Her grey eyes widened as she turned to look at him. “For a great many years, I did nothing to earn the
honor of being her son. But not too many years ago, things changed--I’m sad that I never knew her, but
I no longer regret surviving.”
He shrugged before announcing their arrival, leaving Siobhán to eye him in speculation as they entered
the grounds.
8 November 2009
Chapter Twenty: Housekeeping
Saturday, 3 December 1988 -- 36 weeks, 2 days
Laura took a moment longer to disconnect her end after she heard the “click.” She sat against the pillows
in the guestroom at Frances’ house. Remington sounded utterly exhausted, as he should be. Glancing at
the clock, she figured he’d been awake for thirty hours straight.
The little bedroom she stayed in was pure Frances, decorated with soft rose chintz and delicate figurines.
The guest bed had an antique quilt in every shade of pink, from the palest to the deepest in swirling
patterns. There was probably a name for the pattern, but Laura didn’t know it.
She traced her finger along the stitching, bored with working crosswords and watching TV. Frances
walked in carrying a lunch tray complete with a sandwich, fruit and a giant glass of milk.
“Really, Frances, I can sit at the table,” Laura said.
“Did your doctor say that? No, she didn’t,” Frances admonished.
“What’s the difference between my sitting at a table and my sitting in bed?”
“I have no idea, but the doctor gave you very specific instructions.”
“Frances!” A trace of what might have been a whine emerged from Laura.
Her sister shook her head. “That might have worked when you and Kate were at home, but I have three
kids now. You won’t get away with it anymore.”
“But Frances, I’m bored out of my mind.” That was a whine.
“Then you’ll behave for three more days because you won’t want to do this for the next month. Imagine
how bored you’ll be then?” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Besides, this is the last chance you’ll have
for peace and quiet for a long time--and a decent night’s sleep.”
“As if anyone can sleep with this little one tossing and turning all night,” Laura complained as she picked
at the sandwich.
Frances smiled knowingly. “I remember that. Just when you need to sleep the most, they keep you up.
It doesn’t change when they are born either.” Taking pity on her sister, she relented, “I’ll tell you what.
I’ll compromise. You can lie on the sofa so you won’t be lonely. The kids are dying to talk to you.”
“Please,” Laura begged, “I’d love their company. It’s not even been a day, and I’ve worked a dozen
crosswords, finished my book and watched two movies. I’m itching to get a stack of files from the
office, even though I know there’s nothing to do there because of the holidays.”
“All right. But Donald is going to want to watch football.”
Laura smiled, a genuine one. “This is me. Kate and I love football. Stanford is playing at one.
Watching it with someone else will be infinitely preferable to cheering by myself in here.”
“Speaking of Kate, I called her last night.”
“Oh, Frances. You didn’t tell her.”
“I did. She’s insisted that if you don’t keep her posted daily, that I do. I promised I would.
Laura didn’t like having Frances arranging her life and threw up her arms in frustration. “I don’t like
people having to take care of me.”
Frances just smiled at her. “Laura, this is the first time you have ever asked for my help. I’m thrilled to
be able to do something for you. Give yourself a break. Remington and Siobhán are in Ireland, and you
are on bed rest. It calls for a helping hand.”
Giving her a mutinous glare at first, Laura subsided. “Thank you, Frances.”
Her sister shrugged. “Look at it this way; it could be Mother at your beck and call.”
Laura shuddered. “Don’t threaten me with that. By the time Tuesday comes, the doctor would have to
check me into the hospital. That’s not exactly what I want Remington to find when he comes home.”
“How did he handle your being on bed rest?”
“I haven’t told him,” she admitted.
“Laura!”
“Frances, he’s got his hands full with Siobhán. He doesn’t need this too. Hopefully, on Tuesday, I’ll get
an all clear, and I can tell him afterward.”
“Why did they go to Ireland now?”
Choosing her words carefully, Laura said, “She has only a few days to retrieve some of her things before
the house is turned over to another family.”
“How sad. I suppose you two didn’t have a chance to take care of this before now.”
Laura nodded. “We had hoped it wouldn’t happen until after the baby is born.”
“Well, perhaps it’s best this way. It will be over and done.”
Relieved that Frances wasn’t going to pursue the conversation, she only agreed.
Football kept her occupied for the rest of the day. The Stanford Cardinal played the California Golden
Bears to a 19-19 tie. Donald and Danny helped her root for Stanford, which made her happy.
Afterward, they watched USC stomp UCLA--causing Laura to mutter mild obscenities that made Danny
snort in his soft drink. Not that she really rooted for UCLA; she just despised them a little less than USC.
By eleven she lay in bed, entertained by the baby’s movements while she flipped channels and waited for
Remington to call. She didn’t have to wait long, for ten minutes later the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Laura.”
She smiled at the way he drew out her name. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, actually.” She heard him breathing before he asked, “Is it my imagination or did you sing me to
sleep last night?”
“I did.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or mortified--a grown man needing a lullaby to fall asleep.”
“Perhaps I’ll ask you to sing to me.”
“Laura, there are a great many things I’ll do for you. That isn’t one of them.”
She laughed. “That’s all right. Unless our son or daughter is lulled to sleep at the same time, it doesn’t
really matter.”
“Is the baby keeping you awake?”
“For a while each night we have to have our little gymnastics routine until we’re all settled. After that,
we can go to sleep.” Changing the subject, Laura asked, “How did yesterday go?”
“As well as to be expected, I suppose. There’s more anger buried under Siobhán’s sweet face than I
anticipated. She’s harboring a great deal of resentment towards Johnny. Do you know no one has told
her why she lived with him as she did and why her name was O’Callaghan?”
Shocked, Laura replied, “No. I assumed she knew the whole story.”
“So did I. I promised I would tell her today.”
“I wish I was there, Rei.”
“Aye, love. I do too.”
Laura caressed her belly for a moment, worrying about the pair of them. “What’s on your agenda
today?”
“We’ve finished her room; now we’ll take a peek at the rest of the house, although I doubt she’ll keep
much of it. She doesn’t seem to want any part of it. Love, you wouldn’t believe the jewelry Johnny
gave her. Most of it is hardly appropriate for a society matron, much less a young girl.”
“She doesn’t wear jewelry.”
“No, she threw it all across the room in a temper, angry because Johnny would give her a box at
Christmas and her birthday.”
“What did you do?”
“Kept a watch and pair of earrings that are tasteful and told Andrews to sell the rest. He’ll put the money
in a trust for her. If she ever regrets not keeping any of it, we’ll have the watch and earrings to give her.”
Laura smiled. Sometimes Remington could be terribly thoughtful and compassionate--still a wonder to
her given his upbringing. “Very smart, Mr. Steele.”
“It’s nice that you think so. All right, Mrs. Steele, what are you keeping from me?”
Shocked, Laura sat straight up in bed. “What do you mean?”
“Laura, I’ve known you for six bloody years. I think I know the sound of your voice when you’re hiding
something. Come on. Come clean with me. Something happened and you’re not telling me.”
She sat on the bed with the phone held to her ear for a long minute before she finally admitted, “I didn’t
want to worry you.”
“I’m already worried wondering whatever in the hell it is that you’re hiding.”
She sighed. “I’ve been put on bed rest until Tuesday. My blood pressure has gone up quite a bit in the
last two weeks. Dr. Berger wants me to stay in bed and relax to get it to go back down.”
“What are the risks to the baby?”
“Mostly early labor. She’s not terribly worried since I only have four or so weeks left, but she would
rather I made it to term.”
“So would I. What happens if your blood pressure doesn’t come down?”
Unhappily, Laura clutched the telephone a little harder. “I’ll be on bed rest until the baby is born.”
Silence reigned as Remington digested the news. “Do we know why this happened?”
“Dr. Berger thinks it’s due to stress. She … told me not to work any cases.”
“I gather you haven’t told her about our little problem.”
“No, and Frances pitches a fit every time I try to look at the pictures.”
“With good reason.”
“Rei, I have to try. I’ve done my best to do nothing today other than watch football to keep myself
distracted.”
“Who won?”
“Tie 19-19. Don’t try to sidetrack me, Mr. Steele.”
“Sorry, love. Habit. I’ll make a deal with you, Laura.”
“What’s that?”
“The three of us are safe for the time being. When I get home, I’ll go over every inch with you.
Between the original photos, the set I took and the set Carter took, we’ll find whoever is behind this.”
“What do you mean, ‘the set Carter took’? Kaleb didn’t give me any pictures.” Laura narrowed her
eyes. “What exactly did I miss here?”
She heard a sigh. “I had Carter shadow me while we flushed out our friend. I disguised myself, but
didn’t change my basic character so that the target could identify me. Carter, on the other hand, I had
hidden in every manner possible so that he could take pictures of whoever had his eye on us.”
Laura bit her lip before letting her anger out. “Damn you, Remington. When were you going to fill me
in on this little gambit? I received a stack of photos of you in every single disguise. I thought we’d
blown the whole thing.”
“Laura, I needed your reactions to be honest when you figured out whatever cover I was using. If I had
told you beforehand, you would have kept yourself from looking for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s the detective in you, love. The moment you walk into a room or out on the street, you
automatically scan the people and environment around you. It’s part of staying aware of your
surroundings. Cops do it all the time. So do criminals--the good ones anyway. When we were out there
with the cameras, you scanned the area, found me and kept going--just as you should do. But if I had
told you that Carter was following me, you would have done the same with him. I knew I’d done a good
job hiding him when you didn’t penetrate his cover. Your eyes never stopped on him, not once.”
“So, you’re saying I gave you away?”
“Laura, we’re dealing with a different kind of criminal here--one who is extraordinarily observant. He
would have to be in order to avoid having both of us notice him. Three days, love, and I still didn’t get a
bead on him. I think Carter’s photographs are our only chance of catching the bugger.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re not succeeding. In any case, I didn’t see Kaleb on
Friday because of my doctor’s appointment.”
“Then they are probably on your desk.” She heard him swear under his breath. “Good Lord, Laura, I
should have told you. Then when you received your little gift from our friend, you would have known
that I’d meant to be seen. No wonder you’re distressed.” She could hear the self-recrimination in his
tone.
Laura looked up at the ceiling, grimacing as the baby found some sort of organ to shove against. She lay
down on her side with the telephone to her ear. “Rei, it’s okay. I know now. I’ll call Kaleb to make
sure the photos are at the office.”
“Promise you won’t go after them right now?”
“I promise. I don’t think Frances would let me past the front door anyway. I think everyone is
conspiring against me. Fred insisted on bringing me here, so I don’t have a car. Frances will let me sit
on either the bed or the couch, and that’s all. Kate admonished me on the phone earlier. And absolutely
no one is telling Mom anything because she’ll drive us all crazy.”
“Sounds as if you’re in good hands.”
“Yeah, but the only hands I want to be in are yours.”
“Now that sounds like a proposition, love.”
Laura groaned. “I’m not even sure we can make sex work at this point. If we do, we’ll have to be in the
dark so I don’t frighten you away.”
“Laura, I’ve told you before that I find you deliciously attractive while pregnant.”
“You just like my breasts.” She grimaced. It had been months since she could get away with not
wearing a bra during the day.
“Side benefit. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed--long and delightedly. “I love you, Mr. Steele.”
“Another side benefit. Means everything.”
“Why do I always feel better after we talk? We haven’t solved anything?”
“I have no idea. Go to bed, love. I’ll call you tomorrow, same time.”
“All right. Give Siobhán a hug for me.”
“That I can do. Goodnight, love.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Steele.”
Laura rolled to her back to hang up the phone, remembered she couldn’t breathe in that position and
rolled to the other side. The baby jockeyed for his or her own comfortable position. When they both
settled, they fell asleep nearly instantly.
Remington knocked on Siobhán’s door to wake her. An hour later, he pulled out of the hotel parking lot
to drive to Siobhán’s prior home. She’d been unnaturally quiet again, so he opened the conversation.
He scratched the back of his head as he spoke. “Johnny Carlisle and Denis O’Callaghan used to be
friends of an odd sort. Ran together, played a bit. Did a lot of questionable things in their day.
Somewhere in there, they fell for the same girl, a pretty one by the name of Erin Brennan. From what I
understand, she had a difficult time choosing from the pair, for she cared for both men. But Denis had a
way with words and flattered her into marrying him.
“ ‘Twas only afterwards she discovered he had a mean streak and a temper. Right or wrong, she took
solace with Johnny and found herself pregnant. She tried to make things right with Denis, but he figured
out as you grew older that you weren’t his kin.” He glanced at her, wondering if she was listening.
“You’ve got Johnny’s grey eyes, a stór, and we already know how the family looks breed true,” he said
in an aside.
Returning to the story, he continued. “Erin brought you to Johnny when you were five to keep you safe
from O’Callaghan. Then, because she’d said the vows of marriage, she went home to Denis. Johnny
protected you the only way he knew how with all the enemies about that he’d made. He put you
somewhere safe and surrounded you with a handful of people he trusted. The word on the streets was
that he’d kidnapped you after Erin died, out of revenge and love for her.”
Remington downshifted as he hit a decent straightaway, speeding up to make the trip a little shorter. “It
wasn’t true though. You know that from the letter ye mum wrote ye when she took you to live with
Johnny.”
Siobhán ventured her first question. “How did my mother die?”
Remington flinched. He’d hoped not to have to answer that one. He reached over to stroke her hair. “I
don’t know for certain. I only know the rumors I’ve heard--but the word was that Denis had her killed
not long after she gave you to Johnny.”
“Where is he now?”
“Denis?” Remington scrambled to only disclose the bare minimum of the truth. “Ah, he was captured in
April, and someone killed him while he was in jail.”
Siobhán turned to face him. “Was it Johnny?”
“You’re not a silly girl, are you?” He gave her a hard look as he took the exit to the Carlisle Manor.
She toyed with a curl of hair. “I heard … things. Johnny really did love my mother, didn’t he?”
“Yes, Siobhán, he did. He cares for you … even if he has a poor way of showing it at times.”
“If I hadn’t been born, my mother might still be alive.”
His heart tore a little. “Don’t do that to yourself, a stór. Your parents made their own choices. You are
the very lovely result of those circumstances.” He pursed his lips as he stopped the car in front of the
gates. “Siobhán, my mother died having me. I’ve often regretted being alive if it meant her sacrifice.”
Her grey eyes widened as she turned to look at him. “For a great many years, I did nothing to earn the
honor of being her son. But not too many years ago, things changed--I’m sad that I never knew her, but
I no longer regret surviving.”
He shrugged before announcing their arrival, leaving Siobhán to eye him in speculation as they entered
the grounds.
8 November 2009
Chapter Twenty: Housekeeping