“Tea.” Liam lost interest in the mirror and bounced on Shannon’s hip. “Cake.”

“There’s the bottom line,” Rogan said with a chuckle. “Just like his mother.” Without waiting for her answer, Rogan took Shannon’s elbow and began to steer her toward his car.

“I should tell Brie—”

“I’ve told her. Maggie,” he called out. “Your boy wants tea and cake.”

“Which boy?” Maggie caught up with them just as Shannon reached for the car door. “Are you driving us, Shannon?”

“Damn. I do that nine times out of ten.” With Liam in tow, she rounded to the passenger side and bundled the boy in his car seat.

“Once a Yank,” Maggie commented and settled herself.

Shannon only wrinkled her nose and entertained Liam on the drive.

A short time later they were in the kitchen. It was Rogan, Shannon noted, who brewed the tea. “You enjoyed the ceili?” he asked.

“Very much.”

“You left early.” With a wicked gleam in her eye, Maggie set out small slices of frosted cake.

Shannon only lifted a brow and broke off a corner of a slice. “This is Brie’s recipe,” she said after a sample.

“ ’Tis Brie’s cake. Be grateful.”

“Very grateful,” Rogan put in. “Brianna’s too humane to let Maggie poison us.”

“I’m an artist, not a cook.”

“Brianna’s far more than a cook.” Shannon prepared to bristle. “She’s an artist. And it shows in every room of the inn.”

“Well, well.” Amused, and pleased, Maggie leaned back. “Quick to jump in front of her, aren’t you?”

“Just as you do,” Rogan said mildly as he brought pot to table. “Brianna inspires loyalty. The inn’s very welcoming, isn’t it?” Expertly he smoothed feathers while he poured the tea. “I stayed there myself when I first came here to batter at Margaret Mary’s door. The weather was filthy,” he remembered, “as was Maggie’s temperament. And the inn was a little island of peace and grace amid it all.”

“ ’Twas your temperament that was filthy as I remember,” Maggie corrected. “He badgered me mercilessly,” she told Shannon. “Came here uninvited, and unwanted. And as you can see I’ve yet to rid myself of him.”

“Tenacity has its rewards.” In an old habit he slid his hand over Maggie’s. “Our first reward’s falling asleep in his tea,” he murmured.

Maggie glanced over to see Liam, slack-mouthed, eyes closed, head nodding, with one hand fisted in cake. “He’s a prize, all right.” She chuckled as she rose to lift him from his high chair. When he whined, she patted his bottom and crooned. “There, love, you just need a bit of a lie down. Let’s go see if your bear’s waiting for you. I think he is. He’s waiting for Liam to come.”

“She’s a beautiful mother,” Shannon said without thinking.

“That surprises you.”

“Yes.” She realized what she’d said an instant too late and fumbled. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not a problem. It surprises her, too. She was resistant to the idea of having a family. A great deal of that came from the fact that her childhood was difficult. Things mend in time. Even the oldest and rawest of wounds. I don’t know if she’ll ever be close to her mother, but they’ve made a bridge. So the distance is spanned.”