It wasn’t just loving Maura that made him feel as though he were somehow betraying Anna, Jefferson thought with a glaring flash of insight. It was the fact that what he felt for Maura was so much more than what he’d once known. But he couldn’t tell his brothers that. They already thought he was crazy.
While it was hard, he realized that the love he’d had for Anna had been a young man’s love. Innocent in its way and it had ended before it could be tested. But he could love more now, deeper now, because he’d lived longer, knew more, had experienced more. His life had made him more than he had been at the time, so he was capable of feeling more than he’d been able to at twenty. Was it really that simple? Had he missed this revelation somehow because he’d been so determined to give Anna the loyalty he’d thought she deserved?
Justice was right. Anna wouldn’t have wanted him to be alone and empty for the rest of his life in some bizarre tribute to her. A heavy load slid off his heart as he drew a deep, easy breath for the first time in weeks.
“God knows I’m no expert,” Justice was saying. “Took long enough for me to realize what an ass I’d been in letting Maggie go. But I wised up in time. Are you gonna be able to say the same?”
Jefferson’s hand tightened around the beer bottle. He knew what he wanted now, but would he be able to make Maura believe him?
“Yeah, I am,” he said aloud, imagining the look on Maura’s face when he showed up on her front porch at the farmhouse. “I’m going back to Ireland.”
“For how long?”
He looked at Jesse. “Permanently.”
“What about the studio?” Justice asked.
“I can handle it by phone and fax,” Jefferson said, setting his beer down onto the closest table. “And I can be back here easily enough if I have to handle something in person.”
“You? On a farm?” Jesse asked with a broad smile.
“Me on a farm,” he repeated, already mentally arranging his move to the country, the woman he loved. “Why’s that so hard to believe? Hell, we grew up on a ranch! Maura would never be happy anywhere else and I can work from anywhere. Besides,” he added with a wide smile, “I have to get back. Find out if Michael’s grandchild has been born. See if Cara’s moving back to London. And it’s lambing season, so Maura will be shorthanded…”
“Lambs?”
Jefferson laughed at Justice’s horrified expression. “I know. You’re a cattleman to the bone, but you’re going to have to come visit our sheep.”
God, he felt like he could climb mountains, run all the way to Ireland with his feet never even touching the water. He knew what he wanted. And he wouldn’t settle for less than all. If Maura didn’t agree right away, he’d just kidnap her, haul her in front of the village priest and marry her whether she liked it or not.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, checking his watch and mentally calculating the time he would need to tie up some loose ends and then get to the airport.
Jesse and Justice exchanged a glance and ordinarily, Jefferson would have been curious. But at the moment, he was too busy planning his reunion with Maura. He left the house, his brothers right behind him. But when he got to his car, he stopped.
“What the hell happened?”
All four tires were flat. The small, sapphire-blue sports car was practically resting on its rims in the dirt of the drive. Jefferson looked at his brothers. “Do you know something about this?”
“Hey,” Jesse said, lifting both hands, “don’t look at me.”
Justice scrubbed one hand across his jaw and muttered, “I told the man one tire.”
Before Jefferson could say anything to that, the throaty purr of an expensive engine rolled toward them. He looked up to watch a King family limo, all shining black paint and chrome, glide up the drive. “What the…”
Justice clapped one hand to Jefferson’s shoulder. “This is why the flat tires. We had to keep you here. Although, Mike was a bit more thorough than I’d planned.”
“What are you talking about?” His gaze was still fixed on the limo as the driver hopped out, opened the rear door and Maura stepped from the car, looking straight at him.
“Don’t screw it up,” Jesse muttered.
Justice shoved him and said, “We’ll be in the barn. You two take your time.”
Jefferson never even saw them leave. His gaze was fixed on the woman he loved and he couldn’t have looked away if his life had depended on it. He wasn’t betraying Anna by moving on. He knew that now. The living had to live. And he had no interest in doing that without Maura.
From the moment she’d stepped foot onto the King family jet, Maura had felt as though she were walking into a fairy tale. Surrounded by luxury, she’d flown halfway across the world for this moment. She’d slept in a bed thirty thousand feet in the air. At her arrival in Los Angeles, she’d been swept into the private opulence of the limousine and driven off down freeways choking with more traffic than she’d seen in her lifetime. And through it all, she’d had one thought in her mind. Getting to Jefferson. Making him see all that he was giving up when he turned his back on what they’d found.
When the limo turned into the long, winding drive of the King ranch, she had felt a slight stirring of nerves. Anxious, she had worried that going with her instincts might not have been the best idea. But she was committed to her plan and she wouldn’t back out now that the moment had arrived.
Yet when she stepped out of the car, all she could do was look at Jefferson. He looked wildly handsome in his white shirt and black slacks with the wind ruffling his hair across his forehead. Even the baby inside her jumped and kicked, feeling the excitement of being with its father again.
Maura felt the hot, dry wind tug at her hair and burn her eyes. Surely that was the reason her vision was blurring with unshed tears. The King family ranch was a lovely place, what she noticed of it, but her gaze locked unerringly on Jefferson.
“Maura,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“No. Stay there, if you please.” Instantly, she held up one hand to keep him at bay. If he came too close, she might give in to her urge to run into his arms, when what she needed to do was stand her ground and speak her heart. “I’ve come all this way to have my say, Jefferson King, and you’ll do me the courtesy of standing there to listen.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said.