He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to picture them in his mind. It had been five years that June since he and his brothers had been home, five years since they’d last seen their parents or their older siblings. There were times when Dec wondered if they’d ever be reunited, or if the three youngest Quinn brothers would spend their entire lives in Ireland, living with their Grandmother Callahan.

Life with their maternal grandmother had been rough at first. Grace Callahan had never been a part of her grandchildren’s lives, living an ocean away in Ireland, estranged from her daughter, Emma. Though it had never been made clear to the boys, some disagreement had caused their mother to stop speaking to their grandmother long before they were born.

Still, every summer there had been an invitation for the Quinn children to visit Ireland. It was only after Emma Quinn had become horribly sick with cancer that she had finally allowed any of her children to go. And then, she’d sent just the youngest three, keeping the older children back to help support the family in the midst of mounting medical bills.

There had been no health insurance, no savings in case of emergency, but that hadn’t stopped Paddy Quinn from searching out the finest medical care for his wife. He and the older children worked at any job they could find, with little left over for luxuries like decent food, new clothes-or a visit to Ireland.

It was Ian who had taken over the role of father figure to the younger boys, appointing himself the boss of everything. Dec didn’t mind. Someone had to watch over them and though Dec was qualified, he had better things to spend his time on-like thinking about Kitty Donahue and all the other pretty Irish lasses who caught his fancy. Kitty was mysterious and fascinating and exciting. And she barely knew he existed.