Staring into the fire, she nodded. Her profile, silhouetted against the flames, had the purity of an angel’s. He felt something in his chest wrench and pull. The shaft of pain took his breath away. That wouldn’t do. Not at all. He was way past dancing to Emma Braithwaite’s tune.
He made a show of glancing at his watch. “Will you be okay for the afternoon on your own?”
“Of course.” Her chin lifted with all the haughtiness of a duchess.
For all he knew, she might actually be a duchess. He hadn’t kept up with the details of her life. Anything was possible.
She pointed. “The spare key is in the top drawer of that desk by the window. I think it’s tied to a bit of green ribbon.”
He rummaged as directed and found what he was looking for. As he pushed everything back into place, his gaze landed on a familiar-looking piece of paper. When he recognized what it was, he felt a mule-kick to the chest. “Emma?”
“Yes?”
He held up the offending card. “Would you care to explain why you have an invitation to my brother’s wedding?”
Emma groaned inwardly. Could things get any worse? Aidan’s original animosity had faded as he cared for her. Now his suspicions were back in full force. His expression was glacial, his demeanor that of judge and jury combined.
“Your mother gave it to me,” she said, the words flat. Let him think what he wanted.
“My mother...”
Emma nodded. “I’m sure Mia asked her to. Mia and I became friends when I moved here a few months ago.”
“How convenient.”
As bad as she felt, her anger escalated. “I don’t know what you’re implying, and I don’t care. I don’t have to explain myself to you. Leave the key and go. I can manage by myself.”
His face darkened with some strong emotion as he crushed the beautiful invitation in his fist. “You have no food in the house. I said I would bring your dinner. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
The way he slammed the door as he walked out was entirely unnecessary. She already knew he was furious. And that was just too damn bad. Emma had as much right to be in Silver Glen as he had. If he cared to listen, she would be happy to explain. But she had a sneaking suspicion that Aidan Kavanagh was too darned stubborn to hear her out.
Aidan wondered if he were losing his mind. Had the trauma of coming to Silver Glen at Christmas finally made him snap? When he left Emma’s apartment, he sat downstairs in his car for several long minutes, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he drove out to Dylan’s place for a visit. If he should happen to pump Mia for information in the meantime, that was his business.
Dylan answered the door, his face lighting up as he grabbed Aidan in a bear hug. “Thanks for coming home, baby brother. It means the world to Mia and me. I couldn’t have a wedding without you.”
Aidan shrugged, uncomfortable that everyone was making such a big deal of his visit. “Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The empathy in Dylan’s steady gaze made Aidan feel raw and vulnerable, neither of which was the least bit appealing to a grown man.
Mia broke the awkward silence. “I’m glad you’re here, too. And so is Cora.”
Aidan took the child automatically as Mia handed her over. Cora gave him a sweet smile that exposed two tiny front teeth. He kissed her forehead. “Hey, darlin’. You want to go joyriding with Uncle Aidan? I’ll show you where all the toddler boys live.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Why is it that no one in the Kavanagh family knows how to talk to girls?”
Dylan looked at her with mock outrage. “I might point out that you fell for some of my best lines.”
Mia kissed her soon-to-be-husband on the cheek. “Whatever helps you sleep at night...”
Aidan grinned. He’d expected to be a little jealous of Dylan’s storybook ending...and Liam’s. And perhaps on some level, he was. But even so, he was happy for his older brothers. It was about time the Kavanaghs found something to celebrate.
Reggie Kavanagh had died when his boys were young. Liam, at sixteen, had been the only one close to adulthood. Truthfully, it wasn’t exactly accurate to say that Reggie died. One day he simply went off into the mountains and never returned. Looking for the silver mine that had put his ancestors and the town of Silver Glen on the map.
Aidan tried to shake off the memory. He could still see his mother’s face at the memorial service. She had been devastated, but resigned. Apparently, Reggie had never been the husband she deserved. But then again, life wasn’t about getting what you were owed. It was more about dealing with what you were given.
In Aidan’s case, that meant surviving loss. First his father. Then Emma. And finally, poor Danielle.
Cora’s pudgy little body was warm and solid in his arms. A baby was such beautiful proof of life’s goodness. Aidan needed that reminder now and again. He glanced at his brother, who apparently couldn’t resist nibbling his wife’s neck since Aidan was running interference with Cora.
Aidan complained. “In case it’s escaped your notice, your innocent daughter is right here in front of you. How about a little decorum?”
“Decorum sucks.” Dylan grabbed Mia for a quick smacking kiss on the lips. While Mia giggled and turned pink, Aidan put a hand over Cora’s face. “Don’t look,” he whispered. “The adults are being inappropriate.”
Laughing, but starry-eyed, Mia rescued her daughter and cuddled her close. “She’d better get used to it. Dylan wants at least two more.”
Aidan lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously?” His brother had changed a lot in the last year. He was happier. More grounded. Less defensive about his place in the world.
“I like having kids around.” Dylan’s crooked grin said he recognized Aidan’s astonishment and understood it. There had been a time when Dylan was the ultimate party animal. Now, however, he had embraced the role of family man with enthusiasm.
It didn’t hurt that beautiful, quiet, smart-as-Einstein Mia shared his bed every night. They were an unlikely couple in many ways, but somehow the two of them together made it work.
Mia glanced at her watch. “Are you both going up to the lodge to eat with your mom and the rest of the clan?”
“You’re not?” Aidan was surprised. His mother’s command performances demanded proper deference.