“Say you forgive me first. I never meant to hurt you.”
She was frantic to get him out of the bathroom. “I forgive you. Now please leave. I need to get out.”
“Of course. I’ll just take your wet clothes. And I’ll leave your cats alone.”
She heard the door creak again, then a click. Peeking out the shower curtain, she saw she was alone again. Shudders hit her then, an emotional reaction rather than a result of the cold. Her teeth chattered, and she turned up the heat until the water nearly scalded her skin.
Maybe she was overreacting. Not everyone loved animals the way she did. But her reassurances did nothing to stop her teeth from chattering.
Fourteen
The next day Alanna managed to avoid Barry until he left for the office. She didn’t know how to face him now that she’d seen a side of him that dismayed her.
She took her tea and an omelet to the porch and sat, chewing on her lip. When Thomas Connolly accepted that she was actually beyond his reach, she might be able to gain more independence from Barry. She shied away from the word divorce. This issue with the cats was just a misunderstanding. His brutality might be accounted for by a cultural difference she didn’t understand. For all she knew, Americans despised cats the way women she knew hated mice. She wouldn’t have been so upset if he’d thrown mice to the gator.
Sunshine lit the garden. Her mates had promised to come out later to practice. She swallowed the last of her tea, then carried some scraps of omelet in a piece of plastic wrap with her in case she saw Prince. She could see Hattie now.
Not surprisingly, as she approached the shrubs at the far side of the garden, a black nose pushed out from under them.
“Here, Prince.” The Irish Setter crawled toward her, his tail swishing ever so slightly more than it had. He was warming up to her. She petted and made over him, then left him licking his chops and made her way along the path to Hattie’s cottage.
Such a fine spring day. With the birds singing and the sunshine warming her shoulders, she could almost forget the night’s horror. A pregnant woman was supposed to be emotional. That might be a problem she hadn’t expected. Her hands smoothed her belly, and she smiled when she felt the baby kick.
The cottage played peekaboo through the trees until she exited the grove and trod the stone path to the front of the small white house. The freshly painted green shutters matched the door. Planters of blooming flowers sat on the windowsills. More flowers lined the path as she neared the front. Hattie had a green thumb.
Alanna raised her hand to knock when she heard whistling behind her. She turned to see Hattie walking toward the house with a basket of grasses. Her hair was down today, a curly white waterfall that came to her waist. She wore capris and a matching top in a bold red Hawaiian pattern. Her feet were bare.
She hesitated when she saw Alanna, then smiled. “I hoped you’d come for a visit.” She set the basket on top of a tree stump and came the last few feet. “Have you had tea?”
“I have.” Alanna followed her inside. The scent of cinnamon greeted her, and she closed the door behind her. The drawing room was miniscule, just big enough for a small sofa and two wing chairs pulled into a cozy arrangement by the open hearth of a fireplace.
There were a couple of pictures on the walls, and she saw a photo of a young boy in a frame on a table by the sofa. She picked it up and studied it. The child was about five.
“That’s your Barry,” Hattie said. “He was quite a handful back then.”
Alanna set the picture back. “When did you quit working for the Kavanaghs?”
Hattie settled on the sofa and drew her legs up under her like a young girl might. “Barry was fifteen. He didn’t need me anymore.”
“Did you care for Grady?”
“I was gone by the time he came. He’s not been treated well, from what I can see. Poor boy. Patricia clearly hates him. You’ve not met her yet, you said?”
“Not yet.”
“Be prepared. She hates all things Irish. It’s a constant battle between her and Barry’s father, Richard, who practically idolizes his heritage. Barry too. She’ll hate your guts at first sight.”
Lovely. Alanna sat in the wing chair. From this vantage point she could catch a glimpse of the manor house through the trees. She realized why she’d come this morning. She wanted to ask Hattie’s opinion on the incident regarding the cats. It was a difficult subject to bring up.
She twisted a red curl around her finger and glanced around the room as she tried to decide how much to reveal. A sweetgrass basket held magazines by the door. Another one held pens and stationery on the table by the picture of Barry. She knew there would be more in the other rooms of the house.
“Do you sell your baskets?” she asked. “I’d love to buy one.”
“I’ll give you one,” Hattie said. “What would you use it for?”
“I can’t let you do that,” Alanna protested.