The Mighty Quinns: Kieran

Praise for Kate Hoffmann from RT Book Reviews

The Charmer “Hoffmann’s deeply felt, emotional story is riveting. It’s impossible to put down.”

Your Bed or Mine? “Fully developed characters and perfect pacing make this story feel completely right.”

Doing Ireland! “Sexy and wildly romantic”

The Mighty Quinns: Ian “A very hot story mixes with great characters to make every page a delight.”

Who Needs Mistletoe? “Romantic, sexy and heartwarming”

The Mighty Quinns: Teague “Sexy, heartwarming and romantic … a story to settle down with and enjoy—and then re-read.”

Dear Reader,

I believe this book represents a milestone of sorts! The Mighty Quinns: Kieran is the twentieth book in my MIGHTY QUINNS series. Eleven years ago, my first Quinn book, The Mighty Quinns: Connor, hit the bookstores. It’s still hard to believe I’ve been living with this extended Irish family for such a long time!

Since this is the second in a four-book series—and I’ve got four more planned for next year—I’m going to be living with them a little bit longer. Thank goodness they don’t leave wet towels in the bathroom and dirty socks on my bedroom floor. But then, since I made them the people they are, I guess I could also suggest that they cook dinner and do the laundry whenever I wanted, too. But that’s just wishful thinking …

I hope you enjoy this next installment in the Quinn saga!

All my best,

Kate Hoffmann

About the Author

KATE HOFFMANN began writing for Mills & Boon in 1993. Since then she’s published sixty-five books. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys music, theater and musical theater. She is active working with high school students in the performing arts. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her cat, Chloe.

The Mighty

Quinns: Kieran

Kate Hoffmann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Prologue

“SOMETIMES I WONDER what really happened to them.”

Kieran Quinn stared down at the section of weathered bright wood that he’d just sanded. He and his three brothers had had this same conversation over and over again during the past two years. And try as they might, they never came up with any answers to their questions.

The facts were simple. Their parents, Jamie and Suzanne Quinn, had been lost at sea, their boat disappearing somewhere between Seattle and the South Pacific. No one knew what happened, only that they were gone forever. Two years was a long time, but to Kieran, it felt like yesterday.

“Someday, I’m going to take this boat and try to find them,” Dermot announced.

Though his twin brother had always been a dreamer and an optimist, Kieran had been given the practical genes in the pair. Dermot spent his allowance like he had a bottomless piggy bank. Kieran saved every penny. Dermot was the first one to jump, Kieran always looked very carefully before leaping. Dermot saw the possibilities in every situation while Kieran saw the pitfalls.

Kieran glanced over at the section of teak that Dermot had been sanding. It was rough and uneven. Even at work, Dermot favored speed over quality. But then, the four brothers were all different. It was hard to believe they came from the same parents.

Cameron, the eldest, was quiet and creative, so clever that he immediately knew exactly how to get a job done. Their baby brother, Ronan, was sensitive and compassionate, the kind of kid who stuck up for the underdog. Yet their brotherly bonds were unbreakable. They always stood together.

He and his brothers were in the process of restoring an old 22-foot sloop that had been abandoned at their grandfather’s boatyard. Though their grandfather insisted that they were too young to take it out on their own, that didn’t stop them. They’d been working on it for nearly a year, after school and on weekends, and had hoped to put it in the water to celebrate Cameron’s fourteenth birthday.

“I used to think about it all the time,” Cameron murmured. “Now, it just makes me sad. We’re never going to figure it out.”

“It makes me mad,” Dermot said. “Why didn’t they wait for us? Maybe if we’d been along, things might have been different.”

“You really think so?” Ronan asked. Since the accident, any mention of sailing made the youngest Quinn uneasy. He had stubbornly refused to set foot on a boat, making family sailing trips with their grandfather impossible.

Kieran felt a mixture of both—anger and sadness. Their lives would have been so much different had their parents lived. Instead of just surviving their grief, they’d be laughing and loving and enjoying every day. He’d seen each of his brothers change in significant ways, but he’d felt the change in himself the most.

He’d become cautious and careful. He wasn’t willing to take any chances. He preferred his life to be perfectly ordered, so he knew exactly what to expect from day to day. He did his homework early, he completed his chores without complaint and he avoided conflict at every cost. It was hard to know what turns life would take, but Kieran did all he could to anticipate the future.

He didn’t want to be unprepared again. Two years ago, he and his brothers had gone to the marina to wave goodbye to their parents. Their father had told Cameron to watch over his younger brothers and their mother had kissed them each goodbye, her eyes filled with tears. None of them had ever anticipated what was about to happen. Nor could they have been prepared for it even if they had.

When Jamie and Suzanne Quinn were a week late for their arrival, the boys and their grandfather were concerned but not worried. Many things could delay a trip seven days—broken rigging, the doldrums, a torn main sail.

But when a week stretched into two weeks and then a month, everyone was forced to face the truth. Something bad had happened. After a year, a funeral was held. The boys filled a single empty casket with memories of the parents they’d lost.

To help them deal with their grief, Martin Quinn put the boys to work at the boatyard. “Work will soothe a troubled mind,” he told them. “Work will make you strong.”

Martin had used work to get over his own grief many years before, when their grandmother had died in childbirth. Martin had come to the U.S. from Ireland two years later, a widower with his young son, hoping to make a new life for himself away from a homeland that held so many sad memories.

Dermot sat down next to Kieran and grabbed a worn piece of sandpaper. “I know they’re dead. But what I really want to know is why.”

“When we finish this boat, you can sail it across the ocean and find out,” Ronan said.

Kieran drew a sharp breath. “This boat will never get out of the marina without sails. Where are we going to find the money to buy those?”

Cameron sat back on his heels. “We can maybe find something used. Still, we’re all going to have to pitch in some cash.” He looked at Dermot. “How much do you have saved?”

Dermot shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe twenty dollars.”

“Ronan?”

“One-hundred-seventy dollars,” the nine-year old said.

“Jaysus,” Cameron muttered. “You’re like a little squirrel.”

Ronan grinned. “I count it every week. You can have it all.”

“No,” Cameron said. “We all have to contribute equally.”

“That doesn’t seem fair, considering Ronan is never going to go out on the boat,” Kieran said. “He should contribute less.”

His little brother shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said in a quiet voice.

“How much do you have?” Cameron asked, turning to Kieran.

Kieran knew exactly what he had in the bank. He even knew how much he made every month in interest. And he knew that putting his money into sails for a boat they probably wouldn’t be allowed to sail was foolish. He was saving his money for something more important—he just wasn’t sure what that was. But someday, he’d need money and he’d be the only brother to have it.

“Enough,” Kieran said.

“He knows,” Dermot said. “He knows to the penny how much he has.”

“Over a thousand,” Kieran admitted. “But I’m not spending it all on this boat.”

Cameron gave him a pat on his shoulder. “We decide as a group. And we all contribute the same. We’re brothers.”

Kieran nodded. “We’re brothers,” he murmured.

They’d all managed to survive together. But Kieran had to wonder how long that would last. Someday, Cameron would leave for college, perhaps in a place far away from Seattle. Dermot had big dreams of traveling the world. And Ronan would undoubtedly find a safe place for himself to settle.

But even if they were separated by distance, the four Quinn brothers had a bond that no one could break, a bond forged by a family tragedy and strengthened by a childhood spent watching out for each other.

“You know what we should do,” Kieran said. “We should build ourselves a boat from scratch. Once we get this one fixed, we can sell it and build something we really like. Something bigger and better. After all, we got this boat for free and I bet, fixed up, we could sell it for fifteen thousand.”

“Oh, man, that would be so cool,” Dermot said. “Do you think Grandda would let us build our own boat?”

“Sure,” Cameron said, clearly excited by the suggestion. “We’ll tell him it will help us learn the business better. I’ve got some really cool designs we could look at. And when it’s done and we’re all old enough, we’ll just leave.”

“Where will we go?” Ronan asked, trepidation in his voice.

“The South Pacific,” Cameron replied. “We’ll go say goodbye to Ma and Da.”

Ronan looked a little green at the thought. Kieran glanced over at his twin brother and their gazes met. Dermot understood. They just needed to feel what their parents felt, to see what they’d seen and then maybe, they could finally put the past behind them and build lives of their own.

1

“BITNEY, KENTUCKY? What the hell is in Bitney, Kentucky?” Kieran stared down at the bus ticket, shaking his head.

He and his three brothers had gathered in Cameron’s office after a meeting with their grandfather. And they were all still trying to wrap their heads around what had just gone down. They’d suspected that Martin Quinn was thinking about retiring and turning over the control of the family yacht-building business to one of his four grandsons. But not one of them had expected this.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dermot said. “We’re supposed to walk away from everything here in Seattle for six weeks and find a new life for ourselves? In some strange place?”

Ronan nodded. “This is crazy. The old man has lost his mind. How the hell is he going to run this place without us?”

Kieran chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. He knows every job in the place. I swear, he could fire us all and the business would thrive.”

Quinn Yachtworks had been started in the early sixties as a small fishing-boat repair business in Seattle. Their grandfather had gradually built it into the finest custom sailing yacht producer on the West Coast, known for its sleek, state-of-the-art designs.

Martin’s only son, Jamie, had worked in the business until he and his wife, Suzanne, had been lost at sea.

It seemed as if every bit of happiness had leaked out of the young Quinns’ lives on the day they buried that empty coffin. The things that made them a family had changed. There wasn’t a lot of affection or laughter in the house. Instead, the boys worked and worked … and worked, pushing aside their emotions and their loss.

There had been some good moments, Kieran recalled. The four brothers had built a boat all on their own and he, Dermot and Cameron had spent an entire summer sailing it around Puget Sound, much to the dismay of Ronan, who refused to step on board. But the dreams they’d had for themselves as kids had been replaced by responsibility to their grandfather. Martin Quinn had taken them in when they needed a home. It was their family duty to repay him.

They all attended college locally and continued to work at Quinn Yachtworks, helping to expand the business even more. At first, they’d worked simple jobs around the shop and then, as they got older, they’d taken on more important positions. Cameron ran the design end and Dermot handled sales. Kieran served as chief financial officer and Ronan enjoyed supervising the shop, spending his days working side by side with the builders and craftsmen.

Yes, they’d all put aside their childhood dreams to help out after their parents’ death. But it was silly to think any of them could go chasing after those dreams now. “Where are you going?” Kieran asked Dermot.

“Mapleton, Wisconsin.” Dermot held up his phone, a tiny map on the screen. “It’s not anywhere near water. Except for this little lake.”

“Look up Bitney, Kentucky,” Kieran asked.

“That’s an easy one,” Cameron said. “He’s sending you to racing country. Remember how crazy you were about horses? You used to have all those plastic ponies lined up on your bedroom shelf. And you were always bugging Grandda to tell you about the horse he had when he was a kid. You even asked Da for riding lessons for your tenth birthday.”

Kieran ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “I barely remember that. I’d almost forgotten about Ma buying me those plastic ones all the time. She’d put them in my lunch box.” He smiled at the memory. His mother had always been thoughtful like that. She’d loved playing with his horse collection as much as he did.

“Whatever happened to those ponies?” Dermot wondered.

“He wrapped them up and put them in the coffin,” Cameron said.

“Right,” Kieran replied. “I didn’t think I’d ever want to play with them again. They reminded me too much of Ma.”

A long silence grew between them.

“What time do you leave?” Ronan asked.

“Eleven-thirty tonight,” Kieran replied. “I’ve got two and a half days on a bus. I can’t imagine how much fun that’s going to be.”

Dermot chuckled. “You can catch up on your reading. Hey, it might be kind of cool. Who knows? I’m trying to keep an open mind. And a forced vacation isn’t such a bad deal.”

“Yeah, let’s see if you feel that way after you’ve been stuck inside a bus for sixty hours,” Kieran said. “Or you come back six weeks later to find your office buried in paperwork.”

“Sixty hours? Look at mine,” Ronan said. “Sibleyville, Maine. That’s about as far away from Seattle as a guy can get. Three and a half days. That’s one day more than any of you guys have.”

Dermot held up his phone. “At least you’ll be near water. Maybe you’ll be able to find a decent job doing something you know about.”

“What am I supposed to do in Vulture Creek, New Mexico?” Cameron asked.

“Well, at least that makes sense. Dinosaur bones. Remember? After you saw Jurassic Park, you started digging up the garden. Dinosaurs were all you ever talked about. And then you found that bone and Da told you it was from a pork chop.”

They all started laughing. Kiernan and his brothers had teased Cam for weeks about that adventure, but their mother had shushed them all, insisting that Cam should do whatever he dreamed of doing.

“Listen, I have to get home and pack,” Kieran said. “I’m the first off. You guys don’t leave until tomorrow.” He looked at the envelope of cash they’d each been given for the trip. “Are you guys going to take some extra money?”

“Grandda said we had to stick with what he gave us,” Cam said. “I figure we ought to play by the rules, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got an extra day on the bus,” Ronan said.

“You know what it is,” Cam said. “He came to this country with a hundred dollars in his pocket. I think he wants us to experience what that was like. It forces us to be creative.”

Ronan cursed softly. “The old man is nuts. A hundred dollars went a lot further fifty years ago.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to use our wits rather than our wallets,” Kieran said. “We’re all smart lads. I’m sure we can figure something out. And he did give us the credit card in case of an emergency.”

“What constitutes an emergency?” Dermot asked.

“Imminent death?” Ronan said. “Starvation? The pressing need for a shower and a shave?” He shook his head. “Three and a half days on a bus.”

Kieran got to his feet. “I need a ride home.”

“Why don’t we all go out?” Cam suggested. “We can have a beer and give Kieran a decent send-off. We won’t be seeing each other for six weeks. I think a drink or two is in order.”

“O’Leary’s?” Ronan asked.

“O’Leary’s it is,” Kieran said.

THE BUS HAD pulled into the station in Denver at precisely 6:45 a.m. Kieran glanced down at his watch through bleary eyes. His layover was just a little longer than two hours and he wasn’t sure he could keep his eyes open long enough to make his transfer onto the next bus headed to Indianapolis.

After his first restless night on the way east from Seattle, he had actually been grateful to change buses in Missoula and Billings, using the opportunity to stretch his legs. But the trip was starting to wear a little thin now and he found himself getting crankier by the mile.

Over the past twenty-four hours, Kieran had managed to read both the books he’d brought with him. He’d tried to check his emails on his BlackBerry, only his grandfather had disconnected his internet access. And the scenery was only interesting when it changed, which happened every hour or so during the daylight hours.

With only a hundred dollars in his pocket, his budget didn’t allow for new reading material, so he’d picked up leftover magazines and newspapers from his fellow passengers. He’d read a two-month-old Sports Illustrated and a current issue of InStyle from cover to cover before finding a copy of some silly tabloid with an alien baby on the cover.

Kieran glanced around at his surroundings. The station was bustling with travelers making their way onto morning buses. He grabbed his bag and walked over to the digital display to check on his departure time and noticed that his bus would start boarding in thirty minutes.

His stomach growled and Kieran reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. After careful budgeting, he still had about seventy dollars left as well as the credit card.

They’d been charged with finding a different life and living it for the next six weeks. So far, Kieran had been bored out of his mind with this new life. Though the bus ride had given him time to think about his future, he hadn’t really found himself drawn to anything different. He liked his job. It was predictable and interesting and provided a decent living.

Whatever was waiting for him in Bitney, Kentucky would never match what he had in Seattle. Kieran adjusted his bag on his shoulder and headed to the food court at the far end of the station. He found a sandwich shop and ordered a turkey sub and a large Coke.

What he really could use was his usual breakfast of orange juice, oatmeal and an egg-white omelet. Everything seemed off without his routine.

The cashier totaled up his purchases and glanced up at him. “Ten-thirty,” she said.

Kieran frowned. “For a sandwich and a Coke?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t set the prices. Ten-thirty.”

He reached into this pocket and grabbed the credit card, then handed it to her. Though it wasn’t an emergency, he didn’t want to waste any more of his cash. A few seconds later, she handed it back to him. “It was refused,” she said in a bored voice.

“No, that can’t be. It’s a company card. Try it again.”

She sighed dramatically and ran it through again. “Nope. Still refused. Do you have cash?”

Kieran looked at the sandwich and soda. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough to feed himself until he got to Bitney. He could wait until breakfast. “Never mind,” he muttered.

“I’ll get it,” a soft voice said.

Kieran looked at the person standing behind him in line. There wasn’t much he could see. She wore a baggy sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her hair. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes. But when he glanced at her hands, he saw perfectly manicured nails and long, slender fingers clutching an armful of junk food. “That’s not necessary,” he said. “I have cash. I’m just not as hungry as I thought.”

“No, take it,” she replied. “I insist.” When he refused, she sighed impatiently and gathered up his purchases then ordered a soda for herself, before giving the cashier two twenties. “That should cover it. Keep the change.”

She turned and handed him the sandwich and Coke. “Thanks,” Kieran said. “I can pay you back.”

“No problem.”

“No, I mean it. I have the cash.” He followed after her and when she sat down in the lobby, he took a spot nearby, setting the sandwich and soda between them.

He watched as she unwrapped one of her candy bars and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, then shook her head, setting it aside. “Those used to taste so much better.” She ripped open a bag of BBQ potato chips and plucked one out. “I haven’t had these in years.”

She held out the bag and he shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“Eat your sandwich,” she said.

Kieran picked it up and started unwrapping it. “So, are you some kind of health-food nut?” he teased as she picked through the purchases on her lap.

“What?”

“Breakfast of champions,” he said, pointing to the pile of candy.

She shook her head. “I can never decide what to eat. I usually just get anything that strikes my fancy and then nibble through it until I find something satisfying.”

“That’s kind of a waste of money, don’t you think?”

She held out a candy bar. “You can have this. I don’t know why I bought it.”

“You don’t want it?” he asked, taking it from her.

“No, I’ve already lost interest. Oh, peanut butter. That sounds really good.” She opened the candy bar and took a bite, then wrinkled her nose. “Nope, that’s not it either.” She wrapped the candy up and handed it to him. “I don’t have any communicable diseases. Don’t worry.”

Kieran took a bite of his sandwich, not quite believing this stranger. “So, where are you headed?”

“Don’t know yet. I haven’t bought a ticket. I thought I would think about it while I ate.”

“With all that sugar, you won’t need a ticket. You’ll be able to run wherever you want to go.”

She giggled. “Very funny. Where are you going?”

“Bitney, Kentucky,” he said.

“Kentucky? Really? That’s where I was thinking about going. I love Kentucky. My grandparents live there.”

Kieran watched her suspiciously. Who was this woman? And why had she chosen to entertain him with her presence? Could he really believe her story? “What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” she asked.

“Kieran,” he said. “Kieran Quinn.”

“Hmm. Strange name.” She held out her hand, the fingertips stained with melted chocolate. Noticing, she wiped her hand on her sweatshirt. “Maddie. I’m Maddie.” She paused. “Maddie Smith.”

He took her hand in his and the moment they touched, Kieran felt an odd sensation race through his body. “Nice to meet you,” he murmured, “Maddie Smith.”

He grabbed his sandwich and took another bite. She had a beautiful voice, strangely melodic with just a tinge of whiskey rasp in it. Though he couldn’t see her eyes, her mouth more than made up for that. It was a perfect Cupid’s bow, lush and kissable, stained a deep berry color. He imagined that she’d taste of cherries if he kissed her.