Page 41 of Broken Blood Ties

“What I mean is … I know you want the best for her.” Allie’s eyes drift closed, and I lower the light on my way out of her room.

Checking on Aoife in the living room, she’s still passed out, tucked into the side of the couch. I move into the kitchen, staring at the massive space. Then I get to work.

Chapter13

Summer

Homemade chicken soup is harder than I remember, but I finish it with the help of the internet and—surprisingly—it tastes really good. With it simmering on the stove, I hunt around for some bowls and spoons, then I find a serving tray.

I take Allie a bowl of soup and find her still passed out the same way I left her, so I leave it with some more water before heading to get Aoife.

“Aoife?” I rub her back. She’s still warm, but not as hot as before.

She rolls over. Her blonde hair is snarled into unruly sections, her little nose red and raw, but the smile she offers me makes my heart swell.

“Aoife, I’ve made some chicken soup. Your nanny Allie told me it was your favorite. Would you like some?”

She nods and sits up.

“Are you all right to come to the kitchen to eat?” I look at the couch, and frankly I’m concerned about letting a four, almost five-year-old eat soup on it.

“Yes,” she says. “Daddy and I eat there all the time.”

I smile at her, offering my hand for her to pull on to get up, but she ends up keeping hers clasped in mine as we walk to the kitchen.

There are barstools at the abnormally massive island, and I help her climb onto one. Then I slide a bowl of soup in front of her. “Do you know if Allie keeps crackers on hand?”

She points to some double doors behind her, and I walk over to open a walk-in pantry half the size of my classroom. Allie had left all the ingredients out for the soup, like she had been planning to make it, so there wasn’t a reason to go snooping around the kitchen.

Shelves of pantry items line from floor to ceiling, with the exception of a counter with a jar of coffee and specialized tea. I scan quickly and spot some saltines.

Grabbing those, I pull out a sleeve and open it, setting it next to Aoife who’s gobbling up the soup.

“Is it good?”

“Delicious,” she says, yanking a cracker from the package.

“Good.” I help myself to a bowl and sit next to Aoife. The first biteisreally good. “How are you feeling? You must feel a bit better if you’re able to guzzle the soup.” I gently poke to tickle her belly, and she giggles.

“I feel okay. I’m tired.” She sniffles. “Is Nanny Allie okay?”

“She will be. Just needs some rest. Same with you. Once you finish with your soup, we’ll get you up to bed, okay?”

She nods. “Will you read me a story?”

My heart clenches. “Of course. We can pick one?—”

The back door opens, and I startle, dropping my spoon into my bowl of chicken soup. Several drops plop on the island counter.

I look up, half expecting Kieran to come through the door, but it’s not, and I immediately stand, stepping in front of Aoife.

“Can I help you?” I ask the man standing in the door, grinning at Aoife.

“I believe the question is, lass. Can I help ye?”

“Cormac!” Aoife giggles, and before I can turn around to help her, she’s jumped down and barrels into the man’s legs for a hug.

He’s of average height, definitely not as tall as Kieran. With straight brown hair that tapers off past his ears, and leering eyes that are a light hazel. A rough five-o’clock shadow lines his face, and he smirks at me.

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