Page 76 of The Way Back Home
“No, I won’t,” Teagan countered.
The doctor and the discharge planner looked back and forth between the two of them.
“I’m not debating this,” Noah told her firmly.
“Good,” Teagan said. “Because I’m not going with you.”
His jaw clenched, and his amber eyes blazed with determination. She hated the way her pulse kicked up at the sight.
“I’ll come back later,” the discharge planner said, then left with the doc on her heels.
Before the door shut completely, an older man stepped inside. He looked around the room, his roaming gaze stopping when it locked on her.
Broad-shouldered but lean, his dark hair sported distinguished silver patches along the temples. It was his eyes that immediately drew her attention, however. They were clear, intense, and bluer than a tropical sea.
Like hers.
A strange tug pulled in her chest. He looked familiar.Feltfamiliar. But Teagan was certain she’d never seen him before.
“So, ’tis true,” the stranger said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry,” Noah said, putting himself protectively between Teagan and the newcomer. “Who are you?”
“Donal O’Callaghan.” His voice carried a quiet weight, Irish through and through.
“And you’re here because …” Noah prompted.
“Because I asked him to come,” Noah’s father said, stepping into the room as well.
Teagan’s gaze flicked to Martin, trying to make sense of that. Why would Noah’s dad want this man to come see her? Was he a lawyer? A detective?
Something else?
“May I see it?” Donal asked, his eyes locked on Teagan.
“See what?” Teagan asked.
“The pendant.”
Teagan looked at Noah then, who seemed just as confused as she was.
“Show him, son,” Noah’s dad coaxed.
Noah reached beneath the collar of his shirt and pulled out the thin leather cord holding the Celtic piece, lifting it over his head before placingit in Donal’s hand.
Donal turned it over slowly, his expression unreadable as his thumb brushed over the warm metal.
“Is it yours?” Martin asked.
“Aye,” Donal murmured, his voice low and resonant. “’Tis my family crest.”
“No,” Teagan protested in a rasp. “You must be mistaken. That belonged to my mother.”
“Aye. Because I gave it to her,” Donal said, lifting his eyes to hers.
The room tilted. Her hands fisted in the thin blanket while her white noise drowned out her thundering heart.
“Wait. Are you saying that you are Teagan’s father?” Noah asked.
