Wild Embrace (Wilder Irish #11) - Mari Carr Page 0,1

certainly fit…at least appearance-wise. She’d been born with a head full of deep, rich black curls, the color so completely like Sunday’s, it had taken his breath away the first time he’d lain eyes on her.

However, there was no denying the meaning of her name only applied to her hair because there wasn’t a speck of darkness in Darcy’s soul. She was the very epitome of white, bright light.

Even at only seventeen, he was proud to see the confident, compassionate young woman she’d grown up to be. Darcy was one of those rare souls who could look into a person’s eyes and see what they needed, be it a joke or a hug or even just someone to sit next to them so they didn’t feel so alone.

He saw bits and pieces of his beloved Sunday in all his children and grandchildren, but it was Darcy who seemed the most like his much-missed wife, who’d always been wise beyond her years.

“You know what you want, lass. You’ve always known.”

She nodded. “I want a man like you and Dad. Someone who’ll let me be myself, who’ll make me laugh, who wants kids, and who’ll be so good to them. Someone who will love me forever and never let me go because he can’t imagine a day without me in it.”

“That is the best list I’ve ever heard. You deserve all that and more, sweet girl.”

She gave her grandfather a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve seen your heart, lass. It’s far too big to ever live without love. You are so much like my Sunday. Not only in looks, with that beautiful long dark hair, but inside as well. Heaven only knows where I would have ended up if not for Sunday, latching on to me and refusing to let go until I—if you’ll pardon the expression—pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Wait. You always said you fell in love with her the first night you met her.”

“And I did. But falling in love doesn’t pave the way to an instant happy ending. That takes hard work, trust, commitment. The truth is…I tried to walk away from Sunday.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Well, she had another suitor, Connall, a man of immense wealth. I knew he could provide for Sunday, could show her the world in a way I never could. In our small village, he was a prince, while I was the pauper.”

“So what?” Darcy’s tone, her aghast expression, reminded him so much of Sunday’s response at the time, all those lifetimes ago, that it took him a moment to gather his thoughts and respond.

“I rather thought I was being selfless at the time. Sacrificing my own happiness for hers because I truly believed I was not worthy of her. She deserved more…always.”

“Wow, Pop Pop.” Darcy rolled her eyes and Patrick couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your grandma Sunday had the same response, which proves to me you’re smart enough to spot the right young man for you. Men aren’t always the wisest when it comes to matters of the heart. We tend to think more with our heads and with our pride, which is why we need strong, loving women like you in the world. To show us the error of our ways and guide us to the place we were always meant to be. Your heart will recognize the man who is right for you, just as Sunday’s recognized me.”

“You think so?” she asked.

Patrick bounced his pointer finger off her perky nose playfully. “I know so. And like you, with those rolling eyes—you get that from your mother, Riley, who got it from her mother—Sunday set me straight and let me know that money and happiness did not go hand in hand.”

“She didn’t give up on you.” Darcy hadn’t asked it as a question, but he answered anyway.

“No. She didn’t. She outsmarted me.”

Darcy grinned widely. “How?”

“Oh, in that age-old way all women make the men in love with them face the truth. She tempted the green-eyed monster from his lair by accepting an invitation to a dance from Connall. It soon became obvious I wasn’t as selfless as I liked to think. In fact, I was a downright caveman. The only thing I managed not to do the night of the dance was beat my chest and spirit Sunday away over my shoulder in true King Kong style.”

Darcy laughed. “I would have loved to see that.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m not so sure Sunday would have appreciated that response the night of the dance. She let