“I’d say that was his business, and mine.”

“You’d say wrong, and I’ll warn you to mind your step with him.”

“I’m not interested in your warnings, or your nasty attitude.”

Maggie tilted her head in a gesture that had much more to do with disdain than curiosity. “Just what are you interested in, Shannon Bodine? Do you find it amusing to dangle yourself in front of a man? One you have no intention of doing more than toying with? You’d come by that naturally enough.”

The red haze of fury was blinding. She was on her feet in a snap, fists bunched. “Goddamn you. You have no right to cast stones at my mother.”

“You’re right. Absolutely.” And if she could have bitten her tongue, Maggie would have taken the words, and the unfairness behind them, back. “I apologize for that.”

“Why? You sounded exactly like your own mother.”

Maggie could only wince. “You couldn’t have aimed that shaft better. I did sound like her, and I was as wrong as she. So I’ll apologize again for that, but not for the rest.”

To calm herself, or try, she turned to heat the kettle. “But I’ll ask you, and you might be honest since it’s only us two, if you haven’t thought close to the same of my father as I just said of your mother.”

The accuracy of the question had Shannon backing off. “If I did, at least I was too polite to articulate it.”

“Seems to me politeness and hypocrisy run too often hand in hand.” Pleased by the quick hiss that drew out of Shannon, Maggie reached for the canister of tea. “So let’s have neither between us. Circumstances mean we share blood, a fact that doesn’t please either of us overmuch. You’re not a tender woman from what I can see. Neither am I. But Brianna is.”

“So you’re going to protect her from me, too?”

“If need be. If you hurt one of mine, I’ll hound you for it.” Face set, she turned back. “Understand me there. It’s clear to see Brie’s already opened her heart, and if Murphy hasn’t, he will.”

“And you’ve already closed yours, and your mind.”

“Haven’t you?” Maggie strode to the table, slapped her palms down. “Haven’t you come with your heart and mind made up tight? You don’t care what Da suffered. It’s only yourself you’re thinking of. It doesn’t matter to you that he never had a chance to take his happiness. Never had . . .”

She trailed off as her vision grayed. Swearing, she leaned against the table, fighting for balance. Even as she swayed, Shannon was grabbing her shoulders.

“Sit down, for God’s sake.”

“I’m all right.”

“Sure.” The woman was pale as death and her eyes had nearly rolled back in her head. “We’ll go another round.”

But Maggie slid bonelessly into the chair, making not even a token protest when Shannon firmly pushed her head between her knees.

“Breathe. Just breathe or something. Shit.” She gave Maggie’s shoulder an awkward pat and wondered what to do next. “I’ll get Gray, we’ll phone the doctor.”