He held out his glass, waited while Shawn filled it again. “My Brenna has as good taste and sense as her sisters, if not better.”

“Thank you for that.” Relieved, Shawn took a second glass himself. “I’m wishing she’d come ’round to that sooner rather than later, but she’s a bit of work, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t. I’m proud of it.” Mick settled in, frowned a little. “This business that’s going on between you, I don’t approve of it.” He noted Shawn was man enough to meet his eye and wise enough to keep his thoughts to himself. By God, who’d have thought Brenna would meet her match in this one? “But she’s more than of age,” Mick continued, “and so are you. My approving or not isn’t going to stop you from . . . well, I don’t want to say any more on that particular thing.”

They drank in cautious silence.

“Mr. O’Toole.”

“I think, as things are coming ’round, you should call me Mick.”

“Mick, I’m sorry about Mary Kate. I swear to you, I never—”

Mick waved a hand before Shawn could finish. “I can’t blame you on that score. Our Katie has fancies, and a young and tender heart. I don’t like knowing it’s bruised, but there’s no blame.”

“Brenna’ll blame herself, and she’ll step back from me. If I didn’t love her, I could let her.”

“Time.” Mick polished off the next whiskey and thought it was a fine morning to get a bit of a drunk on. “When you get older, you come to trust in time. Not that I’m meaning you sit idle and let it pass.”

“I’m looking for land,” Shawn said abruptly. The whiskey was starting to work in his head, and he didn’t mind a bit.

“What’s that?”

“For land, to buy. For Brenna. She’ll want to build her house, don’t you think?”

Tears of sentiment gathered in Mick’s eyes. “It’s been a dream of hers to do that.”

“I know she’s a dream to have a hand in building something from the ground up, and I’m hoping she’ll have her chance with the theater.”

“Aye, I’ve been giving her a hand in the drawing of that.”

“Would you see that I get it, so I can pass it on? She may not feel as easy about giving it to me now.”

“You’ll have it tomorrow.”

“That’s fine, then. And the theater’s an important thing, for Brenna, for us, for Ardmore. But a home— that’s more important than a place of business.”

“It is, and would be to her as well as to you.”

“If you hear of something you think might suit, would you pass it on to me?”

Mick took out his handkerchief, blew his nose. And was pleased to see Shawn fill his glass without waiting to be asked. “That I’ll do.” Eyes narrowed and a bit bright from drink, Mick peered at Shawn’s jaw. “How’s the face, then?”

“Aches like a bitch in heat.”