Free Wedding at King’s Convenience by Maureen Child

Maura was angry about something and the innkeeper was just showing solidarity. God knew every female he’d ever known would be willing to take the side of a fellow woman against a man no matter what the argument might be.
    Jefferson stepped into the warmth of the pub and paused a moment to enjoy the glow of the fire in the hearth and the rich scents of beer and some kind of stew simmering in the kitchen. Then he nodded vaguely at a couple of men seated at a table, before taking a spot at the bar for himself. He’d barely settled himself when Michael came out of the kitchen, took a look at Jefferson and came to a sudden stop. His wide, genial face flushed dark red and his blue eyes flashed with trouble.
    “We’re closed,” he said.
    Jefferson muffled a groan. This he hadn’t expected at all and if he were to be honest about it, he could admit to himself that he felt a bit betrayed at the moment. He and Michael had become friends the last time he was here. And now, the look on the man’s face said he’d happily plant one of his meaty fists on Jefferson’s jaw.
    “Closed?” Jefferson jerked a thumb in the direction of the two men, each sipping a freshly stacked Guinness beer. “What about them?”
    “We’re not closed to them, are we?”
    “So, it’s only me.”
    “I didn’t say that.” Michael picked up a pristine bar rag and idly polished a bar that already shone like a dark jewel in the overhead light.
    “Yeah.” Jefferson swallowed his anger because it wasn’t going to do him any good here anyway. Until he knew exactly what he was accused of, he couldn’t fight it.
    He pushed off the stool, leaned both hands on the bar and met Michael’s heated stare with one of his own. “When we first met, you struck me as a fair man, Michael,” he said. “I’m sorry to be proven wrong.”
    The man inhaled so sharply, his barrel chest swelled up to massive proportions. “Aye and you struck me as a man to do his duty.”
    “Duty?” He threw both arms wide. “Is everyone in the village nuts all of a sudden? What’re you talking about?”
    Michael slapped the bar with his palm. “What I’m talking about is you being nothing more than a rich American taking what he wants and never paying a mind to his leavings.”
    Jefferson straightened up like someone had shoveda poker down the back of his shirt. He was trying to be reasonable here, but a man could only be pushed so far. “What leavings?”
    “That’s not for me to say but for you to know.”
    Great, he thought, disgusted. More code.
    “Look, we obviously don’t know each other as well as I thought, Michael,” Jefferson told him, “so I’m going to let that insult go. But I can tell you I’ve never shirked my duty in my life—nor do I know anything about any ‘leavings’—not that I owe you any explanations.”
    “Oh, on that you’re spot-on,” the big man muttered. “It’s not me you’re owin’, Jefferson King.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It’s time you found out, don’t you think?”
    “And just who should I ask?” Even as he said the words though, he knew what the answer would be.
    Sure enough, a moment later, Michael said, “Talk to Maura. She’ll tell you or not as she pleases. But don’t come into Craic looking for friends until you do.”
    The men at the table behind him muttered agreement, but Jefferson paid them no attention at all. Why was the town one step short of a mob threatening to tar and feather him?
    And why was he still standing there when he knew where he could go to get some answers?
    “Fine. I’m here to talk to Maura anyway. I’ll settle this with her and then you and I are going to have a talk.”
    “I look forward to it.”
    He left the pub at a brisk walk and headed straight for his rental car. The rain pelted at him as if Heaven were throwing icy pebbles down just to elevate hismisery. He felt the stares of dozens of people watching him as he went and realized that he’d fully