2

Six Years Later

“Evenin’ Da.”

Riordan Malone Sr. looked up from the marble gravestone and his silent goodnight, his fingers caressing the sun-warmed stone as though he could reach the woman fate had taken from him so many decades before.

Wild Irish and soft as a summer morn, his Erin had given his life meaning, then she had given him two sons that a man could be proud of.

Courageous, brave, strong sons.

His eldest, Grant, may have been forced to appear less than honorable, less than courageous for a while, but he had done it to protect his own sons and the sacrifices he had made were no less than Rory Sr. would make himself.

His youngest son, however, the one his wee Erin had called her mini-Rory. He was the one Riordan “Rory” Malone Sr. was perhaps the most proud of.

“Jordan.” A smile tugged at Rory’s lips. His son always approached him as though he were never certain of his reception. As though he were unaware of the power of a father’s love.

He watched as Jordan moved across the small cemetery, his long legged, powerful form tall and strong as he walked up to his mother’s grave.

Rory watched as Jordan touched the top of the stone lightly as he had done for so many years. In the gesture, Rory saw things, sensed things he knew his son would never be comfortable with him knowing.

He saw a son’s regret, a man’s aching loneliness, but even harder to see was the flash of weariness. Jordan was growing tired, and that was dangerous for a warrior like him.

“I miss her.” Rory patted the stone gently as he turned his gaze from his son and stared at the marble instead.

She was his talisman, his Erin. She had been his boyhood dream, his teenage love, and finally, she had become his wife. The mother of his sons, the foundation of his soul. She’d made him swear to linger on this earth without her to see to the happiness and safety of her boys. And he’d done as she asked. He had pushed himself through each day with only that purpose in mind.

This son, ahh, but this one, he tested an old man’s strength.

He looked toward Jordan’s truck before bringing his gaze back to his son. “You’ve not brought young Tehya with you then?” he asked.

Jordan’s jaw tightened as it always did whenever Rory asked about the girl. As though Jordan somehow thought that if he didn’t speak of her, then he wouldn’t feel for her.

Rory almost chuckled at the thought, but he doubted his son would appreciate it.

“She’s packing.” There was a snap to Jordan’s voice that had Rory’s brows lifting in surprise.

He nodded. “You told me last month she would be.”

He was saddened to see that team coming to an end. They had given Jordan purpose, Rory had often thought. And their leaving meant young Tehya would be going as well, and that, he feared, might be the breaking point for Jordan.

“I have a few things I have to do after everyone’s off base,” Jordan all but growled. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

Rory shook his head. “Noah and Sabella, they take care of things.” He nodded toward the house. “Those children of theirs may give me gray hair, but I’ll be fine. I was just about to bring the groceries inside.”

He had to grin as he thought of the miniature Nathan, or rather Noah as he was known now. Noah and Sabella’s eldest son was already the image of his Da, though he had enough of his mother’s features to hide the fact he was one hundred percent Malone.

“I’ll get them,” Jordan said before glancing down at the tombstone once more.

Ah, the boy had more than groceries on his mind.

Disappointment lanced him though as, rather than speaking, Jordan turned and walked toward the truck.

Watching, Rory sighed as his son collected several bags and moved into the small cabin beyond.

“Such stubbornness, Erin,” he sighed. “He takes that after you, lass. I was never such a hard-headed man.”

He knew, if she still stood by his side, then she would be rolling her eyes in amused disbelief.

That had been his Erin.

“Ah lass, when will he see?” he asked her softly. “Irish Eyes, he has them. He’ll never be free from her now.”

Only since the red-head had arrived at the Elite Ops base had Jordan gotten that bright sapphire color to his eyes. Irish Eyes.

They revealed more, Rory guessed, than his son would have preferred. And Miss Tehya…well, she was the cause right enough. Rory knew his boys, and he knew their hearts. Just as he knew Jordan’s heart belonged only to that young lass.

Jordan could play the devil till hell froze over, but he couldn’t fool his father. He was suffering from his stubbornness and his denial.

“What do we do now, Erin?” he asked. “How do we save our boy now?”

He’d been asking his wife that question for far too many years.

His fingers stroked over the stone as Jordan returned, his gaze now calm, though icy cold.

Yes, this was how Jordan handled all those pesky emotions he refused to allow himself to deal with. He froze them out.

“I’ve got to head back, Da,” Jordan told him. “Is there anything more you need?”

Rory shook his head slowly. “Is there anything you need, Jordan?”

Jordan’s jaw clenched. “No games today, Da,” he warned him.

Rory chuckled. “I’d like to see the lass before she’s out of our lives forever,” he said. “Once she leaves, Jordan, she’ll never come back without your invitation. I’d like to tell her goodbye.”

Jordan looked away for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. “I’ll let her know,” he promised, and Rory almost grunted mockingly at the promise.

He let his boy get away with it though.

When the truck had sped away, Rory turned back to Erin’s grave.

“Far too much like you, my love,” he whispered again. “Like talking to a brick wall.” He smiled at the memories. “But a fine woman you were Erin.”

And God knew, he missed her.

He missed her until he felt withered, lost without her as he struggled to keep his promise to her.

“Work on him love,” he finally sighed. “Lead him in the right direction.” This time, his fingers clenched on the stone. “I’m ready to come home to ya, Erin. Help me, just this one time.”

He’d never asked it of her before, but he was damned tired.

It had been far too many years since he had seen her, far too many years since he had loved her.

And he was ready to go home.