“Yeah.” That lifted his spirits a little. “I do. But it’s going to be hard to feel that way when I’m sleeping alone in Cleveland next July.”

“Suffering though room service. In-room movies, and the adulation of fans.”

“Shut up, Bodine.” He gave her a nudge to send her through the door.

She hadn’t realized there were so many people in the entire county. The house was full of them, alive with their voices, crowded with their movements. Before she was ten paces down the hall, she was introduced to a dozen, and hailed by that many more she’d already met.

Music of flutes and fiddles streamed out of the parlor where some were already dancing. Plates of food were piled high, balanced on knees while feet enthusiastically stomped the time. Glasses were lifted or being pressed into waiting hands.

Still more people crowded into the kitchen, where platters and bowls were jammed end to end along the counters and the center table. Brianna was there, already empty handed as the baby was passed around and cooed over.

“Ah, here’s Shannon.” Brianna beamed as she began to unload the dishes from Shannon’s arms. “She’s not been to a ceili before. We’d have the music in the kitchen traditionally, but there’s no room for it. But we can hear it just the same. You know Diedre O’Malley.”

“Yes, hello.”

“Get yourself a plate, lass,” Diedre ordered. “Before the horde leaves you nothing but crumbs. Let’s have those, Grayson.”

“I’ll trade you for a beer.”

“I can do that for you.” She chuckled as she took platters. “There’s plenty to be had out on the stoop there.”

“Shannon?”

“Sure.” She smiled as Gray stepped out the door to fetch bottles. “It doesn’t look like there’ll be much business at the pub tonight, Mrs. O’Malley.”

“No, indeed. We’ve closed. A ceili at Murphy’s empties the village. Ah, Alice, I was just talking of your boy.”

With the bottle Gray had given her halfway to her lips, Shannon turned to see a slim woman with softly waved brown hair come in the kitchen. She had Murphy’s eyes, and his quick smile.

“They’ve shoved a fiddle in his hands, so he’ll not get past the parlor for a time.” Her voice was mellow, with a laugh on the edge of it. “I thought I’d fix him up a plate, Dee, in case he finds a moment to eat.”

She reached for one, then her smile brightened. “Brie, I didn’t see you there. Where’s that angel of yours?”

“Right here, Mrs. Brennan.” With a cocky grin, Gray stepped forward to kiss her.

“Go on with you. Devil is more like. Where’s that baby?”

“Nancy Feeney and young Mary Kate absconded with her,” Deidre said, uncovering the dishes Brianna had brought. “You’ll have to find them, then fight them for her.”

“And so I will. Ah, listen to that lad play.” Pride beamed into her eyes. “He’s God’s gift in his hands.”

“I’m pleased you could come from Cork, Mrs. Brennan,” Brianna began. “You haven’t met Shannon. My . . . friend from America.”

“I haven’t, no.” The shining pride shifted to caution and curiosity. Her voice didn’t cool precisely, but took on a hint of formality. “I’m pleased to meet you, Shannon Bodine.” She offered her hand.

Shannon caught herself wiping her palm on her slacks before accepting the greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Brennan.” What now? “Murphy favors you.”

“Thank you. He’s a handsome lad for certain. And you live in New York City and draw for a living?”

“Yes.” Miserably uncomfortable, she took a swig from her beer. When Maggie came noisily through the back door, Shannon could have kissed her feet.

“We’re late,” Maggie announced. “And Rogan’s bursting to tell everyone it was my fault, so I’ll say it first. I had work to finish.” She plopped a bowl on the table, then set Liam down to toddle. “I’m starving to death, too.” She snatched one of Brianna’s stuffed mushrooms from a plate and devoured. “Mrs. Brennan, just the woman I’m after.”

All that stiff formality melted out of Alice’s face as she scooted around the table to give Maggie a hard hug. “Lord, you were the same as a child, always noisy as six drums.”

“You’ll be sorry you said so when I give you your present. Come along, Rogan.”

“A man’s got a right to stop and get a beer.” With one in his hand he maneuvered himself and the wrapped package he carried through the door.

The entrance brought fresh greetings and chatter. Seeing it as a perfect escape, Shannon began to edge toward the hall.

“No, you don’t, coward.” Amused, Gray blocked her way. He slung an arm around her in a gesture of affection as firm as shackles.

“Give me a break, Gray.”

“Not a chance.”

Stuck, she watched as Alice carefully removed the brown paper from the painting. As people crowded around, there were sounds of surprise and approval.

“Oh, ’tis him to life,” Alice murmured. “That’s just the way he holds his head, do you see? And how he stands. I’ve never had a finer gift, Maggie, that’s the truth. I can’t thank you enough for giving it to me, or for painting it.”

“You can thank me for giving it. But Shannon painted it.”

Every head in the room shifted direction, and measured.

“It’s a fine talent you have,” Alice said after a moment, and the lilt came back in her voice. “And a heart for seeing your subject clearly. I’m very proud to have this.”

Before Shannon could think of a response, a small, black-haired woman burst in from the hallway. “Ma, you’ll never guess who’s—What’s this?” Spying the painting, she elbowed her way to it. “Why, ’tis Murphy with his horses.”

“Shannon Bodine painted it,” Alice told her.

“Oh?” Eyes bright and curious, the woman turned to scan the room. It took her only seconds to zero in. “Well, I’m Kate, his sister, and I’m pleased to meet you. You’re the first he’s courted ever.”

Shannon sagged a little against Gray’s supporting arm. “It’s not—we’re not—Murphy exaggerated,” she decided as several pair of eyes studied her. “We’re friends.”