“They’d hound me for being a disloyal daughter.” Hell, they were already doing that. Had been for years, in fact.
Kieran smacked the table, shaking the dishes. “So feckin’ what?”
Heart racing, Addy jolted upright. Immediately, Snoot was on his feet, growling low.
Kieran raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Apologies. That hit a nerve, but you don’t deserve my anger.” His shoulders slumped. “And the people who do are dead, so…” He pushed back from the table. “What do you say to hot apple pie and stargazing?”
Chapter Five
Beforetakingtheirdessertoutside, Kieran went to the cedar chest to gather warm woolen blankets, and sent up a silent prayer that Addy wouldn’t ask him to start a fire. He and the lovely doctor were—his niece in Toronto would call it “vibing,” and he was eager to explore this new connection, but open flames plus ocean view? That combination was still a bridge too far. It had taken him a full year of living in the cottage before he worked up the nerve to light the fireplace.
After years of therapy, he’d finally learned to maneuver around his triggers and sleep through the night—mostly. Okay, sometimes. But he was so much better than the jittery mess of a man who came to Trappers Cove in search of a fresh start. Adding a woman to the mix would require rethinking…well, pretty much everything. The delicate balance of his new life might topple if he attempted an actual relationship.
But with Addy, there was no danger of that, a thought that landed in his gut with a sickening thunk. Even if she gave him a tumble, she was only in town for a week, and she’d be leaving Washington soon. Seems he’d just met “the one who got away.”
But she wasn’t gone yet.
Arms loaded with blankets, he lowered the chest’s lid, but it slipped from his fingers and slammed shut with a loud bang. Behind him, the dog yelped.
“Sorry, buddy. Clumsy of me.” He turned to find Snoot under the dining table, huddled with his mistress, who crouched on her knees and clasped her hands over her nape as if shielding herself from falling debris. The Lab nuzzled her hair and whined.
“Jaysus,” he murmured and dropped the blankets. Lowering himself to the floor, he crawled under the table, where the poor woman hunched, trembling like an aspen leaf.
“Addy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re safe, I promise.”
Slowly, cautiously, she unfolded and raised her head. Her gaze was haunted, her tear-streaked cheeks ashen.
“Hey now, it’s okay.” He gathered her into his arms and held her against his chest until she stopped shaking. Finally, she released a long, trembling breath. “Sorry, Kieran. I’m not usually this jumpy. Sometimes, it just sneaks up on me, you know?”
His poor heart squeezed like a fist. “PTSD, is it?”
Her chuckle rang brittle as glass. “Helluva way for you to find out.”
He stroked her hair, pulled loose from its knot by the sudden scramble for shelter. “Fella in my therapy group reacted the same when the wind blew the door open.”
“I’m being ridiculous,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Startling like a scared rabbit. The combat soldiers I treated saw so much worse than I ever did. All I had to do was stitch up the aftermath.” Her voice hitched as she fixed him with wide, glassy eyes. “But there were so many I couldn’t save.”
“Oh, darling.” He hugged her tight and rested his cheek against her silky hair. She smelled of springtime, green and fresh and full of promise, but this delicate-seeming woman had endured horrors beyond his imagination. And considering his own trauma, that was saying quite a lot.
“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret.” He rocked her slowly, hoping the motion would settle her.
She gave a mighty sniffle. “What’s that?”
“I have the same diagnosis.”
She propped her chin on his chest and drilled him with her reddened, watery eyes. “What happened?”
“Oil rig fire. Lost some dear friends. Family, really.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Come outside and I’ll tell you my tale. What do you say?” A change of topic and a bit of soul-baring might soothe her crackling nerves. Not that he looked forward to prying the lid off that can of snakes, but she’d shared her own traumatic past. Fair’s fair.
And if he was a hundred percent honest with himself, Addy’s brave honesty made her the perfect person to open up to. The time had come to admit the truth he’d fought since quitting his therapy group—going it alone wasn’t working.
“Damn it to hell and back.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Way to make a good impression.”
Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I have nothing but high esteem for you, Addy.” He scooted backward, got his feet under him, and extended his hand. “Shall we?”
He loaded a tray with two generous servings of warm apple pie, ceramic mugs, and a thermos of herbal tea, then draped a blanket around Addy’s shoulders and folded the other over his arm.
As they made their way to the bench behind the lighthouse, Addy peered up at the tower and frowned. “Is that feeble light enough to warn ships?”
