With a shake of her head, she took her compact from her purse. She’d been clear enough in her letter, Shannon reminded herself as she tried to freshen her makeup. She’d edited and revised the text three times before she’d been satisfied enough to mail a response to Brianna. It had been polite, slightly cool, and unemotional.

And that was exactly how she intended to go on.

She tried not to wince when the wheels touched down. There was still time, she assured herself, to work on her composure. Years of traveling with her parents had made her familiar with the routine of disembarking, customs, passports. She moved through it on automatic while she calmed her mind.

Confident now, assured that she once again felt slightly aloof to the circumstances, she joined the crowd moving toward the main terminal.

She didn’t expect the jolt of recognition. The absolute certainty that the two women waiting with all the others were the Concannons. She could have told herself it was the coloring, the clear creamy skin, the green eyes, the red hair. They shared some features, though the taller of the two had a softer look, and her hair was more gold while the other was pure flame.

But it wasn’t the coloring, or the family resemblance that had her zeroing in on only two when there were so many people weeping and laughing and hurrying to embrace. It was a deep visceral knowledge that was surprisingly painful.

She had only an instant to sum them up, the taller, neat as a pin in a simple blue dress, the other oddly chic in a baggy shirt and tattered jeans. And she saw her recognition returned, with a glowing smile by one, a cool, measured stare by the other.

“Shannon. Shannon Bodine.” Without hesitation or plan, Brianna hurried forward and kissed Shannon lightly on the cheek. “Welcome to Ireland. I’m Brianna.”

“How do you do?” Shannon was grateful her hands were gripped on the luggage cart. But Brianna was already neatly brushing her aside to take the cart herself.

“This is Maggie. We’re so glad you’ve come.”

“You’ll want to get out of the crowd, I imagine.” Reserving judgment on the aloof woman in the expensive slacks and jacket, Maggie inclined her head. “It’s a long trip across the water.”

“I’m used to traveling.”

“It’s always exciting, isn’t it?” Though her nerves were jumping, Brianna talked easily as she pushed the cart. “Maggie’s done a great deal more than I have of seeing places. Every time I get on a plane I feel as though I’m someone else. Was it a pleasant trip for you?”

“It was quiet.”

A little desperate now as it seemed she would never draw more than one short declarative sentence from Shannon at a time, Brianna began to talk of the weather—it was fine—and the length of the trip to the cottage—mercifully short. On either side of her Shannon and Maggie eyed each other with mutual distrust.

“We’ll have a meal for you,” Brianna went on as they loaded Shannon’s luggage in the car. “Or you can rest a bit first if you’re tired.”