Her hand hurt like six devils. If she hadn't been so busy cursing, she would have worried she'd broken something in it. But as she could still make a fist, she assumed it was only jarred from ramming into the concrete block that disguised itself as Aidan Gallagher's head.

The first thing she did was grab the phone and change her airline reservations. She was leaving the very next day. Not that Aidan was running her off-oh, no indeed. She just wanted to get to Chicago, handle what needed to be handled quickly, efficiently, and personally before she came back.

Then she would plant herself in Faerie Hill Cottage and live a long and happy life doing as she chose, when she chose, and with whom she chose. And the single person who was not on that list of choices was Aidan Gallagher.

She called Mollie and arranged for her to dog-sit Finn.

Already missing him and riddled with guilt for leaving him behind, she picked him up and hugged him.

"You'll have a wonderful time at the O'Tooles'. You'll see. And I'll be back before you know I'm gone. I'll bring you a present." She kissed his nose.

Since she was in no mood to work, she went upstairs to pack. She wouldn't need much. Even if the business of relocating took a week or two, she had clothes in Chicago. She'd make do with no more than her carry-on and her laptop and feel very cosmopolitan.

Once she was on the plane, she'd settle back with a glass of celebratory champagne and make a list of all that needed to be done.

She'd persuade her grandmother to come back with her, to spend the rest of the summer. She would even try to convince her parents that they should come visit so they could see that she was settled and happy.

Everything else was just practical. Selling her car, the furniture, shipping the few things she loved. It was surprising how little of what she'd collected in the past few years she really loved.

Closing bank accounts, she mused as she set her carry-on beside the closet door. Finalizing paperwork. Arranging for a permanent change of address. A week, she calculated. Ten days at most, and it would be behind her.

The sale of the condo could be completed by mail and by phone.

It was all arranged, she thought. She'd take Finn and the keys to the cottage to Mollie in the morning, then drive to Dublin. Then she looked around and wondered what she would do with herself until morning.

She would work in the garden for now, so she could leave it in absolutely perfect shape, without a single weed or faded bloom. Then she'd go visit Maude one more time just to let her know she was going away for a few days.

Pleased with the idea, Jude gathered her gardening tools and gloves, slapped her hat on her head, and went out to work.

Aidan hadn't intended to walk by Maude's grave; but he usually followed impulse. When his feet took him there, he loitered, hoping, he supposed, to find inspiration-or at least a bit of sympathy for his situation.

He crouched down to trail his fingers over the flowers Jude had left there.

"She comes to see you often. She has a warm heart, and a generous one. I have to hope it's warm enough, generous enough, to spare a bit for me. She's your blood," he added. "And though I didn't know you as a young woman, I've heard tales that tell me you had a quick temper and a hard head-begging your pardon. I've come to see she takes after you, and I have to admire her for it. I'm going to see her now, and ask her again."

"Then don't make the same mistakes I did."

Aidan looked up, and into sharp green eyes. He straightened slowly. "So, you're real as well."

"As real as the day," Carrick assured him. "Twice she's said no. If she says so again, you're of no use to me, and I've wasted my time."

"I'm not asking her to be of use to you."

"Still and all, I've only one chance left. So have a care, Gallagher. I can't weave a spell here. It's forbidden, even to me. But I've a word of advice."

"I've had plenty of that today, thanks."

"Take this as well. Love, even when pledged, isn't enough."

Annoyed, Aidan dragged a hand through his hair. "Then what the devil is?"

Carrick smiled. "It's a word that still sticks a bit in my throat. It's called compromise. Go now while she's being charmed by her own flowers. It might give you an edge." The smile widened into a grin. "The way you're looking right now, you'll need all the help you can come by."

"Thanks very much," Aidan muttered even as his visitor vanished in a silver shimmer of air.

Shoulders hunched, he started toward the cottage. "My own brother calling me a brickhead. Sneering faeries insulting me. Women punching me in the face. How much more am I to swallow in one bloody day?"

As he spoke, the sky darkened, and thunder rumbled ominously. "Oh, go ahead, then." Aidan glanced up with a scowl. "Shake your fist. This is my life I'm dealing with here."

He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to forget that his face ached like one huge bad tooth.

He came around the back, had nearly knocked on the kitchen door when he remembered Carrick had said she was with her flowers. Since she wasn't at the ones there, it meant she was in the front.

Breathing slow to steady his nerves, he circled the house.

She was singing. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never heard her sing. And though she'd claimed to do so only when nervous, he didn't think that was what brought her voice out.

She was singing to her flowers, and it stirred his heart. She had a sweet and a tentative voice that told him she didn't trust it, not even when she thought no one could hear.

It was a pretty sight she made, kneeling by her blossoms, singing quietly of being alone in a festive hall, with her foolish straw hat tipped over her face and the pup curled sleeping on the path behind her.

She didn't seem to notice the dark clouds brewing overhead, the threat of storms grumbling. She was a steady and bright spot in a magic little world, and if he hadn't already loved her, he would have tumbled at that moment. But he didn't know how to explain to either of them the why of it.

His heart was simply hers. He knew stepping forward with nothing to guard it was the greatest risk a man could take.

He stepped forward, and said her name.

Her head whipped up, her eyes met his. He was sorry to see that soft and content expression vanish from her face, to be replaced by a cold and steely anger. But it wasn't entirely unexpected.

"I've finished talking to you."

"I know it."

Finn woke and with a joyful bark, scrambled to greet him. That's what he'd expected of her, he realized. That she would always be happy to see him, that she would rush forward eager for his attention.

It was hardly a wonder, he thought, she'd given him the boot when he'd treated her a bit like a puppy.

"I have a few things to say to you. The first of them being I'm sorry."

That threw her off, but not enough to soften her. It might have taken her years to learn how to use her spine, but she knew now. "Fine. Then I'll apologize for hitting you."

His nose was swollen, and bruising was already spreading under his eyes. Had she actually done that? She found the fact horrifying and shamefully thrilling.

"You broke my nose."

"I did?" Shock struck first, and she took a step toward him before she snapped herself back. "Well, you deserved it."

"I did, yes." He tried a smile. "You'll be the talk of the village for years."

Because she discovered a dark place inside her that found delight in that, she spoke primly. "I'm sure everyone will find something more interesting to talk about soon. Now, if that's all, you'll have to excuse me. I need to finish this and see to a number of other things before I leave tomorrow."

"Leave?" He recognized panic now when it grabbed him by the throat. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to Chicago in the morning."

"Jude-" He started forward, stopped short, warned back by the flash in her eye. He wanted to kneel, to beg and plead, imagined he would before it was done. "Is your mind set on it?"

"Yes, it is. I've made the arrangements."

He turned away to gather himself. He looked out over the hills, and toward the village, the sea. Home. "Would you tell me if you're going because of me, or because it's what you want?"

"It's what I want. I'm just-"

"All right, then." Shawn had said he'd be humbled, and so he was. He turned back, walked toward her slowly. "I've things to say, things to tell you. I'm only asking you to listen."

"I am listening."

"I'm getting to it," he muttered. "You could give a man a moment when he's changing his life right in front of your eyes. I'm asking for another chance, even if I don't deserve it. I'm asking you to forget the way I put things twice before and listen to how I put them now. You're a strong woman. That's something you're just finding out, but you're not a hard one. So I'm asking you to put aside your anger for just a moment so you can see-"

When he trailed off, looking perplexed and flustered, she only shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I accepted your apology, you accepted mine."

"Jude." He grabbed her hand, squeezed hard enough to have her eyes widen in surprise. "I don't know how to do this. My stomach's in knots over it. It never mattered be fore, don't you see? I've got words. I've barrels of words, but I don't know the ones to use with you, because my life's in the balance."

She'd hurt him, Jude realized. Not just physically. She'd slapped his ego, humiliated him in front of his friends and family. And still he was sorry. Part of her did soften now. "You've already said it, Aidan. We'll put it aside, just as you said, and forget it happened."