Ena shrugged and flicked her pink hair behind her ears. “Just think about what I said.” She left the room.
Alanna followed her as far as the hallway, then turned right when Ena went left. She followed the hall to the rear stairs and climbed them to the ballroom. Grady was already there and had cleared away much of the debris. The wood floors shone from a polishing, and he’d arranged the instruments on the raised stage.
“Blimey, it looks fabulous, Grady,” she said. “I was going to do it.”
He leaned on the broom handle. “You got guts, little sister. Defying Barry like that.”
Her pulse jumped. “He said something to you?”
Grady grimaced and began to sweep again. “He didn’t have to. It was all over his face. He’d planned to have you all to himself, and your friends are spoiling his romantic interlude.”
“You’re here,” she pointed out. “And his parents. We’re hardly alone.”
“We stay out of his way. I don’t think your friends will be inclined to tiptoe around him.”
“He was just gobsmacked. He’s fine now.” She hoped the words would reassure herself. Barry had been quiet ever since he found Ceol in the back wing. “We couldn’t very well let them sleep in the van now, could we?”
Grady grinned. “It’s your funeral, sis.” He picked up the vacuum and went toward the door. “Hey, what about your friend, Ena?”
“What about her?”
“She have a boyfriend?”
Alanna hid a smile. “No. But don’t you hurt her, Grady. She’s too sweet and vulnerable.”
He rolled his eyes. “And I’m some kind of Casanova? I like her. She’s different.”
“Her pink hair will clash with your orange hair,” she said, smiling as she teased him.
He grinned. “I could dye mine to match. What do you think? Would I earn some points with her?”
“Maybe. Have you talked to her at all?” Ena could do worse than Grady. For all his mohawk and nose rings, he was empathetic and sweet. She counted him as an ally in a place where she wasn’t sure who was out to hurt her.
“You could introduce me.”
“I might do that at dinner. Who’s cooking tonight?”
He wrinkled his nose. “You seen anyone else cooking around here? Grady Kavanagh, slave and cook.”
She studied his crooked grin that hid more than she could decipher. “Why do you stay, Grady? You’re so talented with landscaping. And cooking too. You could get another job.”
“And leave all this?” He swept his hand around the room. “Where else can I be abused by family?”
Her heart clenched for him. He wanted to belong. She imagined his goal in sticking it through was to earn a place in the hearts of his brother and father. Poor guy might be chasing the wind.
He turned away as though he couldn’t bear the pity in her eyes. “Dinner is at seven. Fix it so Ena sits beside me.”
“I’ll do just that,” she called after him. She picked up her fiddle and tested the strings. It was still in tune. Closing her eyes, she dragged her bow over the strings in a plaintive tune.
When she heard footsteps in the hall, she thought Grady had forgotten something until she heard the whistled tune. Holding her breath, she turned as the whistler grew nearer. Liam! Whistling the song from the music box, the tune he’d set words to. Was his ghost here? She knew it was impossible—hadn’t she just told Ena she knew her husband was in heaven?
The whistling stopped, and Jesse appeared in the doorway. He carried a basin of water in his hands. He glanced at her face. “You okay? You’re a little pale.”
“Tha-that song you were whistling. Did you remember the title? Do you know the words?”
He shook his head. “It’s like they’re just around the corner in my memory, but I can’t quite catch hold of them. Just like all my other memories. Why do you ask?”
Had Liam played the song for Jesse, or was he just remembering the bit of it she’d played on the tape recorder? “Are you remembering more?”
His lids hooded his golden brown eyes. “Just bits and pieces. Nothing that makes any sense.”
For a moment, she imagined stepping into the shelter of his arms. Her head would fit just right in the hollow of his shoulder, and she could almost feel the taste of his lips on hers. She took a step back. What was wrong with her? She had no business being drawn to him. This Jesse was so different from the one she knew before the explosion. His manner was calmer and his eyes were kinder. She didn’t know what to make of it all.
She laced her fingers together. “What does the doctor say?”
“That my memory may come back in time, or that it might never come back.”
She tried to imagine what that might be like. Stuck in a limbo where she didn’t remember friends, her music, her time with Liam. A horrible situation. Pity stirred for this man she was determined not to like. She pushed it away.
“Is there anything you can do to speed the process?” she asked.