To Promise Read online

  To Promise

  The McNallys

  Laura Scott

  Readscape Publishing, LLC

  Copyright © 2019 by Laura Iding

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  1

  Flying to McNally Bay had been a massive mistake.

  Brianna Murphy leaned against the white pillar of the gazebo overlooking Lake Michigan and watched the waves rippling across the surface with the breeze. The summer sun had begun its slow descent over the western horizon, and while the warmth was nice, hotter than Ireland ever experienced, she missed the green lush landscape of her home.

  Why had she been so foolish? She’d never chased a man before, and she wasn’t sure why she’d done so now. Despite sharing a couple of heated kisses beneath the starry Irish sky, she’d soon realized, especially after Jazz’s wedding, that Jake McNally wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship.

  And she didn’t do flings, especially with handsome American men.

  So what if he’d invested in her father’s farm, bringing them from the edges of bankruptcy into the best year they’ve had in a decade? She didn’t owe Jake anything. After all, he’d made loads of quid over and above his initial investment and would for the next several years.

  The fact that he hadn’t asked her to accompany him to Jemma’s wedding had stung. Thinking it was the pressure of the wedding itself, she’d decided to surprise him with a post-wedding visit. Not only was it a way for them to spend additional time together without impacting his visa, but she’d hoped that being with Jake and his family would make him realize what he’d be missing when he left Ireland for good.

  But the exact opposite had occurred. With each touristy outing they’d taken together, Jake had become more and more distant. To the point she barely recognized the man she deeply cared about.

  Was this the real Jake McNally, then? If so, the man she’d fallen for was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

  Time for her to head home and put Jake McNally out of her life, and her heart, for good.

  “Bree, can I get you something to drink?” Jemma asked, joining her in the gazebo.

  “No, done more than enough for me, you have.” Bree smiled and hoped her sadness wasn’t too obvious.

  “You helped me cook breakfast earlier, so offering lemonade isn’t too much.” Jemma’s keen gaze seemed to pick up on her morose mood. “Have a seat, I’ll join you for a bit.”

  Bree didn’t want to impose on Jake’s youngest sisters who co-managed the McNally B&B more than she had already. Especially when Jake had been annoyed at her unexpected arrival. The past couple of days had passed with nothing but painful politeness between them.

  It was about to drive her mad.

  “Here you go.” Jemma returned several minutes later carrying two ice-cold glasses of lemonade. She handed one to Bree and then pulled the two deck chairs over.

  “Thanks a mil.” Bree sat more so to make Jemma happy than anything. She owed Jemma, especially after how she’d arrived without an invite the day after her wedding.

  She couldn’t bear to leave the same way. Jemma and Jazz deserved better from her.

  “You can’t let Jake’s stubbornness get to you.”

  Bree winced. She did not want to talk to Jemma about Jake. “He has a right to his feelings, I suppose. And I shouldn’t have dropped in without ringing him first.”

  “Bree, you are always welcome here in McNally Bay.” Jemma took a sip of her lemonade. “Jake’s been on his own for a long time, moving from one place to the next. I think he really enjoyed his time in Ireland.”

  Maybe, but she knew he’d spent far more time in England, due to the limitations on his visa, than he had in Ireland. In Ireland, visitors could only stay for 90 days total within 180 days, so Jake had made the most of learning about horse racing while he was in England. After that, it hadn’t taken that long to get her father’s farm running in the black. Jake helped her father buy the two-year-old thoroughbred colt they’d named Dark Rogue, then convinced Seamus Murphy to enter Rogue in a race taking place in Berkshire, England. The unknown colt had come from behind to win a decent purse in two of the races that day, and several others in the weeks that had followed. After being established in England, they’d returned to Ireland where Dark Rogue had won more races. Jake had returned to England to discuss the colt’s success. Several investors had expressed interest in having their colt sire the next generation of Rogue offspring. The stud fees they were willing to pay were staggering.

  The Murphy Equestrian Farm was profitable at last and would be for a long time, thanks to Jake.

  If only he hadn’t been so charming.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ve come to realize Jake prefers to be on the move, and a mere woman isn’t about to hold him back.”

  Jemma sighed. “We were so excited when he brought you to Jazz’s wedding.”

  Her face felt frozen, as if it might crack. “Me, too,” she finally admitted. “But I sensed a subtle change in our relationship after we returned to Ireland.”

  “Oh, Bree.” Jemma reached over to gently squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She forced a smile. “Learned how to travel across the ocean by myself, didn’t I? And I’ve enjoyed being here with you and Jazz.”

  “We’ve loved having you here, too.” Jemma’s sympathetic gaze only made her feel worse. As if she’d somehow failed the twins.

  “Jemma. Bree.”

  She stiffened when she heard Jake’s deep, rumbling voice behind them. She really, really wished she hadn’t impulsively jumped a flight to Michigan. Staying here in a room right across the hall from him in the McNally B&B was beyond awkward.

  “Jake, sit down.” Jemma jumped up from her seat as if someone stuck a pin in her behind. “I’ll get you some lemonade.”

  “I’m fine, Jem.” Jake mounted the steps to the gazebo platform. “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble, Jake,” Jemma assured him. “I wanted to thank you again for making the trip here for my wedding. I know you were just here this past June, but I’m so happy you were able to stand in for our father to escort me down the aisle.”

  “I was glad to do it,” Jake assured her. “I like Garth; he’s a good guy. Better than your first husband.”

  “A worm is better than Randal.” Jemma let out a wry laugh. “But thanks to Garth, Randal has left me and Trey alone, which is all I ever wanted.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Jake dropped into the chair beside her, his elbow lightly brushing her arm. Bree moved away, feeling burned by his fleeting touch.

  “I better check on Trey.” Jemma ducked out, leaving them alone.

  Bree wanted to call her back but obviously couldn’t blame Jemma for wanting to check on her young son. Bree kept her gaze on the vast lake. If one didn’t know better, it would be easy to mistake it for the Irish Sea.

  Silence stretched long and tense between them.

  “I’ll be heading back to Kalamazoo in the morning.” Bree tucked a curl behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “After I help your sister with breakfast.”

  Jake was silent for a moment. “You don’t have to help Jemma cook, she doesn’t mind.”

  “It’s the least I can do after dropping in without an invitation, isn’t it?” Bree didn’t dare look at Jake, fearing he’d see the dejection in her gaze. “And I like to cook, the way she does. Making a full Irish here in Michigan has been fun, even though nothing compares to the rashers back home.” She remembered how much Jake liked Ireland’s bacon.

  How wonderful the two intense weeks they’d spent together touring castles, the Blarney Stone, and the County Wicklow mountains.

  Jake lifted a hand. “Whatever makes you happy.”

  He certainly didn’t make her happy, and wasn’t that the real heart of the issue? “Thanks a mil for playing tour guide for the past couple of days, McNally Bay is a lovely town.”

  Again, Jake didn’t respond, his tendency to remain silent grating on her nerves. She took a sip of her lemonade, wishing for what seemed like the hundredth time that she hadn’t come.

  Bad enough to know Jake didn’t fancy her and planned to move on, but so much worse to prolong the agony. It was well past time to move forward with her own life. One that didn’t include the handsome American.

  All the McNallys were good-looking, coming from some sort of incredible Irish gene pool, but in her opinion, Jake was the most handsome of them all. His brown hair shimmered with gold highlights that came naturally from the sun, and his dark eyes, similar to Jemma’s, were intense. He was tall, rangy yet strong.

  And the wrong man for a homebody like her.

  “It’s not home,” Jake finally responded. “Not the way the Murphy Farm is for you, Quinn, and your father.”

  “What does feel like home to
you, then?” She turned in her seat to look at him, but he was watching the sun drop lower over the lake.

  “I don’t really have a place that feels like home.”

  His words made her feel incredibly sad for him. It wasn’t the first time he’d downplayed his connection to McNally Bay. Bree found it odd, considering three of his five siblings had settled in the area. Why wouldn’t McNally Bay feel like home to him?

  “Home is where your family is.”

  He shrugged and finally met her gaze. “Sometimes, but not always. Would you be willing to let me hitch a ride with you to the airport in the morning?”

  Her pulse gave a betraying thump of anticipation, and she struggled to keep her voice level. “Coming back to Collinstown with me, are you?”

  “Only to get my things.” He turned away, gazing out toward the lake. “I left a few items behind in the cottage.”

  Deep down, she’d known he couldn’t stay long in the small cottage on her father’s property. By her last calculation, he had about four weeks left to spend in Ireland before he’d have to move on.

  She’d tried to offer him the idea of getting a two-year work visa as her father would have gladly offered to employ Jake on the farm, but he’d declined.

  Unwilling to extend his time in Ireland for her. Or her family.

  “If you don’t mind,” he repeated when she didn’t respond.

  “Grand to ride together. Saves on petrol.” She drained her lemonade glass and stood. No way was she going to sit here with Jake to watch the sun set as if they were some sort of romantic couple. Maybe they were once, but not anymore. “See you in the morning.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she didn’t linger. Instead, she edged past him and carried her empty glass inside.

  “Everything okay?” Jemma asked as she entered the kitchen.

  “Brilliant.” Bree forced a smile. “We’re heading back to Kalamazoo in the morning, after breakfast. I’ll be down bright and early to help out again.”

  “You really don’t have to help me cook breakfast,” Jemma protested. “Although, you do an amazing job. Thanks for teaching me a few new tricks.”

  She smiled, a genuine smile for what felt like the first time over the past few days. “You’re more than welcome. And like you, I find cooking relaxing.”

  Jemma impulsively gave Bree a big hug. “Jake’s an idiot,” she whispered fiercely.

  Tears pricked Bree’s eyes. “Go on now. No reason we can’t be friends.”

  “Yeah,” Jemma agreed. She stepped back and swiped at her face. “Friends.”

  “Come for a visit sometime,” she offered. “You, Garth, and Trey are welcome on the Murphy Equestrian Farm any time. Jazz and Dalton, too.”

  The invite made Jemma smile. “Don’t think I won’t take you up on that offer. It’s been a dream of mine to see Ireland, the country my great-grandparents came from.”

  “Anytime, truly.” It felt like the least she could do for the McNally twins. “See you in the morning.”

  Bree left, heading through the dining room and the great room, one that reminded her of some of the old Irish mansions that managed to survive the revolutionary rise against England. She was awed by the great stone fireplace, with tall elegant silver candlesticks framing the painting of the Cliffs of Moher from County Clare. The thick cherrywood furniture, the grand curved staircase leading to the second-story bedrooms, six of them all decorated with different colors, were just as amazing. Jemma had given her the rose room, which she found lovely.

  She approached the grand curved staircase now, enjoying the fact that a bit of Ireland was here in Michigan’s McNally Bay.

  It seemed appropriate considering Jake McNally would take a small piece of her heart with him when he left Ireland for good.

  Every cell in his body urged Jake to follow Bree, but his muscles remained frozen in place.

  She shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. How had he messed things up so badly?

  Just under five months ago, he’d flown from Canada to Dublin, leaving a pretty blonde behind. He thought for a moment, trying to remember her name. Katie? No Kayla? Karin? Something like that.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter. None of them did. He enjoyed spending time with women, and he had never lied to them about his intention to move on when his current project or investment opportunity was completed. Yet somehow every woman he met decided they were the one to change him. To be the one to convince him to put down roots.

  To make him realize what he was missing.

  They were wrong. There was no way to save him. No way to rescue him from himself. The quicker the women he met understood that, the less likely they would be hurt by his inevitable goodbye.

  Like Bree.

  He stared vacantly at Lake Michigan, a hollow feeling in his chest. Oddly, leaving Bree Murphy was bothering him in a way he’d never experienced before. Maybe because he’d enjoyed the few weeks he’d sporadically spent in Ireland over the past five months. The moment he’d stopped in at the Murphy Equestrian Farm, he’d felt as if he’d recognized the place. As if the DNA embedded deep in his cells from his Irish ancestors had sprung to life.

  But his time in Ireland was over. Frankly, he’d stayed longer than he should have, using up sixty-five of the ninety days his visa allowed. The moment Dark Rogue had won his first two races, Jake had known his project of rejuvenating the Murphy Farm was complete. But he’d continued to come and go between England, where his visa allowed him to stay a full 180 days, to Ireland. He’d also invited Bree to accompany him to Jazz’s wedding in June, a mistake as she’d begun to act as if they were a couple. He’d left, spending weeks at a time in Berkshire, England, then had stopped back in Ireland again, before returning to McNally Bay for Jemma’s wedding mid-August.

  Having Bree show up unexpectedly the day after the wedding had forced him to stick around in McNally Bay for an additional couple of days, playing tour guide for Bree the way she had taken him through Dublin, various castles, and the mountains of County Wicklow.

  Long after the sun disappeared below the horizon, he roused himself to head back inside. It was both a relief and an impending sense of doom to know he would be leaving with Bree in the morning.

  He’d miss his siblings, but he was determined to move on to his next adventure. He’d been toying with the idea of heading to Florence, Italy. There was a café and villa that he believed might be a decent investment.

  Besides, he’d never been to Florence and thought it would be a great place to spend the last three and a half weeks that remained on his visa.

  Jake headed inside, making his way to the green room Jemma had given him. He paused outside Bree’s door, listening for what he wasn’t sure, before moving on.

  He didn’t sleep well that night, but when he heard Bree’s door open across the hallway, he found himself shooting up and out of bed.

  After a quick shower, he packed his duffel bag so they could hit the road right after breakfast. Then he headed down to the dining area where he found Jazz and Dalton enjoying coffee.

  “Jake!” Jazz jumped up to give him a quick hug. “Jemma told us you’re leaving today.”

  “Yeah.” He returned her hug, then stepped back. Long goodbyes made him uncomfortable. “Not sure when I’ll be back now that the wedding madness is over.”

  “Don’t count Jeremy and Trina out yet,” Jazz warned, dropping into the seat across from her husband. “It’s only a matter of time before they’ll make it official. I’m convinced there will be one more ceremony in the wings yet this year.”

  He tried not to groan as he took the seat beside Jazz. “At least Jeremy won’t need me to walk him down the aisle.”

  “Ha, ha.” Jazz elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re so not funny.”

  “Not true. I’m hilarious.” He glanced around. “Where can I get a cup of tea?”

  Jazz lifted a brow. “From the kitchen. Help yourself.”

  He scowled, realizing his sister wasn’t going to wait on him as if he were a B&B guest. Since Bree wasn’t seated at one of the tables, he felt certain she was working with Jemma in the kitchen.