“If he could orchestrate all this from prison, if he could have two people murdered, why not just kill her?”

“If you kill somebody, it’s done. Put them in that pan? They burn a long time. Trust me, high-dollar lawyers aside, she’s sizzling now.”

“Hey!” Maggie, grass-green braid dangling, shouted from her bedroom window. “Haven’t you three got work to do? You expect people to eat out of serving dishes with their hands? Get those plates set up, and the flatware. Don’t forget the damn napkins.”

“Woman’s a slave driver,” Red commented when Maggie pulled her head back in. “But I just can’t quit her.” He turned back to Cate. “Put it away.”

“Done.”

As predicted, there was good food, good people, and plenty of music. Cate found it easy to embrace the moment. She sat with Leo and Hailey, cuddled Grace the amazing, watched wide-eyed kids circle the paddock on patient, plodding ponies.

It made her wish for Darlie and Luke even as she pictured them settling into their home in Antrim, with a puppy named Dog.

Watching her grandparents sing a duet, she tipped her head to her father’s shoulder. “They’ve still got it.”

“And know how to use it. They’re never going to retire. Not all the way.”

Even as he said it, Hugh walked over, took Cate’s hand. “Remember that routine in the pub from Donovan’s Dream?”

“Probably. Sure. Now?” Amused, more than reluctant, she tugged back when he tugged her hand. “Here? Grandpa, I was barely six.”

“Muscle memory. Come on now, there’s a fiddle player here who claims he knows the tune. You wouldn’t let your old grandfather down, would you?”

“Oh, that’s cheating. I was six,” she said again, as Aidan helped by pushing her to her feet. “Oh God, I’m going to have to move to Fiji with Julia after this.”

It was a quick, bright tune, and the fiddler played it well enough, and with plenty of enthusiasm. Cate tried to cast herself back, to remember the steps, the moves, the words.

Just a kind of strut to start while she held Hugh’s hand. And into a five-beat riff walk.

He winked at her, just as he had then. And she was back.

Around them, people kept the time, let out whistles, even sang along. Through all of them, Aidan studied Dillon.

He knew it, of course, had seen it, heard it, felt it, every time he saw the two of them together. He knew the boy spent his nights in his daughter’s bed, and felt, as the father of a grown woman, he’d adjusted well to that.

But here and now, under a bright summer sky, remembering when his girl had been a girl, just six, it both cracked and lifted his father’s heart.

They ended as they’d begun, hand in hand, smiling at each other.

“That was one of the happiest times of my life,” she murmured as she embraced Hugh.

“Mine, too. I’m not as young as I was.”

“Me either!” Laughing, she led him back to the table. “Take ten, Sullivan.”

“I’d take it better with a beer. It’s a picnic.”

When she got the nod from Lily, Cate kissed his cheek. “Then I’ll get you one.”

“Well done, Dad. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Aidan walked straight to Dillon, who still had his eyes on Cate and was obviously trying to extricate himself from a gaggle of people to get to her.

“Sorry.” All charm, Aidan smiled, slapped a couple of backs. “I need to steal Dillon a minute.”

“Thanks,” Dillon began as they moved away. “I wanted to—”

“I know what you wanted. We need to talk first.”

He walked toward the front of the house—fewer people. Still, some hung out on the porch, so he kept walking, heading toward the field where the cattle grazed. Where the woods lay behind them.

The woods where his little girl had run, lost and terrified.

“She’s my only child,” Aidan began. “I’ve had to fight the instinct to keep her wrapped up tight and safe, to keep her with me every second. It was my grandmother who pushed me to give her room, when we were in Ireland. She was right, my grandmother. But I knew when I wasn’t there, right there, Nan was.”

“I never met her,” Dillon said carefully, “but I feel like I know her from the way Cate talks about her.”

“She was a presence. When we came back to California, I knew my father and Lily were there when I wasn’t. Even when Cate demanded, and Christ, did she, to go to New York, I knew Lily would be there. After that, Cate didn’t give me much choice in it. She would live her life, and I want that for her. Love is letting go as much as it’s holding on.”

“I love her. I’ve loved her a long time, so I know that’s true.”

Aidan turned from the woods, looked into the eyes of the man he knew already held his daughter’s heart. “You’re both of age, but I’m going to ask what you intend to do about it.”

“I’m going to take care of her, even when she doesn’t especially want me to. She’s a hell of a lot tougher than she looks, but she still needs someone to take care. We all do. I’m going to do my damnedest to make her happy, to work with her toward building the kind of life we can both be proud of. When she settles into all that, I’m going to marry her. We’re both of age, but I’m hoping you’ll give your blessing on that.”

Slipping his hands in his pockets, Aidan shifted to look out at the ocean, to gather himself. “I’ve been grateful to you for nearly twenty years.”

“It’s not about—”

Aidan held up a hand to cut Dillon off. “I haven’t spent as much time here as my father, as Lily, as Catey now, but I’ve spent enough to know your family is one I’d be proud to blend mine with. I’ve spent some time this summer keeping an eye on you.”

“Yeah.” Dillon shifted his hat back a fraction. “I felt that.”

Pleased, Aidan shifted back. “So, if you want my blessing, you have it. And if you screw this up, if you hurt my baby, I’ll kick your ass. If I can’t do it myself, I’ll hire somebody who can.”

Dillon glanced at the hand Aidan held out, took it. “That’s fair.”

With a laugh, Aidan slapped his back. “Let’s go get a beer.”

Hours later, happily exhausted, Cate walked with Dillon toward his house.

“I don’t know how any of you can get up before dawn in the morning after a day like this.”

“Rancher’s stamina. Let’s sit out a minute. It’s as pretty a night as they come.”

They’d done most of the cleanup and hauling away, but some chairs still sat out, so she took one, sighed out at the sea, the stars, the fat ball of moon.

“Best moment of the day,” she challenged. “Pick one. Don’t think.”

“I’ve got a couple of them, but we’ll go with watching you dance with Hugh.”

“One of mine, too.”

From the hills, echoing, came the call of a coyote.

“You really don’t want that?”

“Want what?”

“Performing that way. On the stage, or on the screen that way.”