O'Reilly's Bride. Trish Wylie

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made, now, would it?’ Sean grinned a wolf-like grin at her. ‘That wouldn’t be a teeny bit of jealousy there, now, would it?’

      Maggie snorted gracefully. ‘Dream on.’

      He nudged her so suddenly she ended up nudging the guy beside her and had to take a second to apologise. Then she scowled back at him. ‘She’s twenty-three, Sean; leave her be. Let her discover most guys are snakes on her own.’

      Sean focused his eyes forward, his voice dropping as the meeting started. ‘Maybe she should date someone with slightly better manners. Someone nice and polite.’ He tilted his head to whisper, ‘Someone who says please before they do anything.’

      It took a moment for her to decipher his meaning. When she got it she gaped at him like a goldfish and struggled to find words that her mother wouldn’t slap her for saying. The inner struggle distracted her from mundane little things, like the meeting they were in. To the extent that it took two attempts at her name before her eyes focused on their editor.

      ‘You with us, Maggie?’

      She flushed. ‘Yes, Joe; sorry.’

      Joe quirked an eyebrow and handed her a sheet of paper. ‘There have been cuts in the fishing quotas so I want you to head to one of those wee ports on the Co. Down coast and see what the locals have to say.’

      She nodded as she speed-read what he’d given her:

      Usual background stuff, interviews with the families and local shop owners and then something with one of the crews out on a trawler.

      Her eyes widened as she glanced up. ‘On the boat? As in at sea on the boat?’

      ‘Yes; is that a problem?’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head and pinned a smile on her face. ‘Not a problem. How long a piece?’

      His eyes widened at the question. ‘Well, how about you just bring us as much as you can and we’ll edit it together? You know, it really depends what else comes up in the headlines.’

      He moved on to the next crew and Maggie looked back at the sheet of contacts in front of her. This day just got better by the second. She hated boats. Really, truly couldn’t stand them. Ever since she’d gone swimming off one as a child. With a little help from her brother’s hands in the centre of her back, that was. The fear of water had never left her.

      She swallowed hard and glanced at Sean as he leaned in to read over her shoulder. That at least distracted her from the thought of spending some of her day on a boat.

      ‘You OK?’ He looked at her eyes, close to his, one dark brow rising in question.

      ‘Oh, yeah, just fine and dandy.’ She smiled through clenched white teeth.

      ‘Great stuff.’ He leaned back, and within a few minutes the meeting broke up and they set off to drive to the east coast.

      She had thought the journey would be hell. That after the conversation the night before and his wise-arse comments during the meeting she wouldn’t be able to face him. Or stay trapped with him in a car without ending up arguing with him. But it was like none of the previous things had ever happened. In fact Sean was more like they had both been in the good old days, when they got along a whole pile better.

      He told her tales about Don and Rachel gardening the day before, with all their little glances and blushes. He talked about how they really should put low lighting along the path to the house, for safety reasons. He whittered away about her sister Kath’s new husband and what a great guy he was. But never once did he mention Bryan, their conversation after Bryan had left or how much he disagreed with her method of finding a husband. It freaked her out.

      Something was going on.

      The initial interviews with families of the trawler crews went smoothly, as did the ones with local businessmen who would see their own livelihoods affected if the fishing crews had to quit. Like every other small community built around the fishing industry, this one knew a cut in quotas could in time lead to the end of the village. And the fear came through as each of the people opened up to Maggie’s friendly manner and easy-going questioning.

      Then came the thing that Maggie had been dreading for the entire day. It was time to take a trip on the big, wide ocean.

      Her stomach churned and she watched the trees on the water’s edge shift as the wind picked up.

      ‘It’s getting windy.’

      Sean glanced up from his camera and followed her gaze. ‘Some. Nothing compared to what these guys go out in half the time, though, I’ll bet.’

      Her stomach churned again. And she hadn’t even left the safety of the stone jetty yet.

      ‘They’re very brave.’

      Sean shrugged. ‘It’s what they do. I guess they don’t see it as anything but doing another day’s work.’

      A burly man in a bright yellow waterproof coat smiled up at them as they walked to the end of the jetty.

      ‘You must be the TV people.’

      Sean grinned and reached a large hand out to shake the other man’s. ‘Yep, that’s us. You must be Mike.’ ‘Mike McCabe. This here’s The Sally at the end.’

      ‘I’m Sean O’Reilly, this is Maggie Sullivan.’ Sean’s eyes drifted to Maggie’s pale face, surprised when she didn’t greet Mike with her trademark hundred-watt smile. ‘She’s normally brighter than this.’

      Maggie glanced at him and then recovered, smiling as she shook Mike’s hand. ‘Hi, Mike.’

      Mike’s ruddy face went even ruddier as she smiled at him. ‘Nice to meet you, Miss Sullivan. We see you on the box all the time.’

      Maggie’s smile faded as he released her hand and turned towards the brightly coloured trawler. The scent of fish hit her nostrils, not exactly helping her churning stomach. ‘So this is your boat, then, Mike.’

      ‘Aye.’ He beamed with pride as he jumped down onto the deck and held out his hand to help her aboard. ‘This is The Sally. My dad’s boat and mine now. It’ll be my boys’ one day if the quotas don’t kill us first.’

      She gave herself a minute to accustom herself to the movement of the deck beneath her feet. Then the boat rocked as Sean landed beside her with a huge thud of equally huge feet on wood. He glanced at her, his hand cupping her elbow. ‘You OK?’

      ‘Oh, I’m great.’ She moved into the centre of the boat as the engines started and Mike’s crew cast off from the jetty. ‘Let’s just get this done.’

      They went out a lot further than she’d thought they would. And if it had been a tad windy by the water’s edge, in the shelter of the harbour, out in the main channel was to her the equivalent of a hurricane.

      They started the interview once The Sally had thrown out her nets and Sean had got plenty of footage of the crew at work. Maggie managed to get through it. Just. But by the end she had to run to the railing to throw up.

      Sean appeared by her side with a bottle of water and rubbed her back. ‘You should

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