Public Secrets

hands had balled into fists at his sides. “Put her down.”
“I’ll kill her.” She said it more calmly this time, having centered on it. “I’ll slit her throat, I swear it, and then my own. Can you live with that, Brian?”
“She’s bluffing,” Johnno muttered, but his palms were sweating.
“I’ve got nothing to lose. Do you think I want to live like this? Raising a brat all on my own, having the neighbors gossip about me? Never being able to go out and have fun anymore. You think about it, Bri, think about what the papers will do when I call in the story. I’ll tell them everything right before I kill us both.”
“Miss Palmer.” Peter held up a soothing hand. “I give you my word we’ll come to an arrangement that suits everyone.”
“Let Johnno take Emma into the kitchen, Jane. We’ll talk.” Brian took a careful step toward her. “We’ll find a way to do what’s best for everyone.”
“I only want you to come back.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Braced, he watched her grip relax. “We’ll talk.” He signaled Johnno with a slight nod of the head. “We’ll talk it all through. Why don’t we sit down?”
Reluctantly, Johnno pried the girl from her mother. A fastidious man, he wrinkled his nose a little at the grime she’d accumulated under the sink, but carried her into the kitchen. When she continued to cry, he sat down with Emma on his lap and patted her head.
“Come on now, cutie, give over. Johnno won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He jiggled her, trying to think what his mother might have done. “Want a biscuit?”
Damp-eyed, hiccuping, she nodded.
He jiggled some more. Under the tears and dirt, he decided she was a taking little thing. And a McAvoy, he admitted with a sigh. A McAvoy through and through. “Got any we can pinch?”
She smiled then, and pointed to a high cupboard.

Thirty minutes later, they were finishing up the plate of biscuits and the sweet tea he’d brewed. Brian watched them from the kitchen doorway as Johnno made faces so that Emma giggled. When the chips were down, Brian thought, you could always depend on Johnno.
Going in, Brian ran a hand down his daughter’s hair. “Emma, would you like to ride in my car?”
She licked crumbs from her lips. “With Johnno?”
“Yeah, with Johnno.”
“I’m a hit.” Johnno popped the last biscuit into his mouth.
“I’d like you to stay with me, Emma, in my new house.”
“Bri—”
He cut Johnno off, lifting a hand palm up. “It’s a nice house, and you could have your own room.”
“I have to?”
“I’m your da, Emma, and I’d like you to live with me. You could try it, and if you’re not happy, we’ll think of something else.”
Emma studied him, her full bottom lip pushed out in a pout. She was used to his race, but it was different somehow from the pictures. She didn’t know or care why. His voice made her feel good, safe.
“Is my mam coming?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled, but she picked up her battered black dog and hugged it close. “Is Charlie?”
“Sure.” Brian held out his arms, and lifted her.
“Hope you know what you’re doing, son.”
Brian sent him a look over Emma’s head. “So do I.”

Chapter Two

E MMA HAD HER first look at the big stone house from the front seat of the silver Jag. She was sorry that Johnno, with his funny beard, was gone, but the man from the pictures let her push buttons on the dash. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but he didn’t scold. He smelled nice. The car smelled nice. She pushed Charlie’s nose into the seat and babbled to herself.
The house looked enormous to her with its arching windows and curvy turrets. It was stone, weathered gray, and all the windows were made up of diamond shapes. The lawn around it was thick and green, and there was a scent of flowers. She grinned, bouncing with excitement.
“Castle.”
He smiled now. “Yeah, I thought so, too. When I was little I wanted to live in a house like this. My da—your grandda—used to work in the garden here.” When he wasn’t passed out drunk, Brian added to himself.
“Is he here?”
“No, he’s in Ireland.” In a little cottage Brian had bought with money Pete had advanced him a year before. He stopped the car at the front entrance, realizing he would have to make some calls before the story hit the papers. “You’ll meet him someday, and your aunts and uncles, your cousins.” He gathered her up, amazed and baffled at how easily she cuddled against him. “You have a