Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Tie Murph up and let’s eat,” she said as she worked at a thick plaid blanket tied to the other side of her saddle. I did as requested and helped her spread everything out.
We sat side by side and ate corned beef sandwiches on thick rye bread and she told me stories of growing up at Glenhaven, particularly focusing on her bond with Siobhan since they were so close in age. After, we stretched our legs out, shoulders barely touching, and Fiona tilted her head back as she inhaled the fresh air. “God, I love this,” she murmured. “The open land, the smell of summer. I feel like I can breathe out here.”
“I know what you mean,” I replied, glancing over at her. Yet I wasn’t feeling her level of peace right now. Staring at her made it hard to breathe.
Twisting her neck, she looked over at me and as her eyes caught the rays of the sun and glimmered like green gemstones, I saw the mischief within. “Siobhan was waitin’ for me when I got home last night. She’d snuck into my room and was lyin’ in my bed like she used to when we were little.”
“She figured out where you’d been?”
“Oh aye,” Fiona said, grabbing a long blade of grass and twirling it around her finger. “I barely got in the door before she started asking questions. And when I told her—not details, mind ye—she got all giddy like we were talkin’ about some grand fairy tale.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, envisioning her sister lying in wait.
“She thinks it’s all so romantic,” Fiona mused, tucking her knees to her chest. “Me sneakin’ out, ye sweepin’ me off my feet… She said I’m actin’ like a heroine in a love story.”
I looked at her, my grin fading into something softer. “And are you?”
She held my gaze for a beat, then exhaled. “I think so. But I’m not sure. I’ve never felt like this before.”
That was about the most mature thing any young woman in her position could say and I realized that Fiona wasn’t making impulsive decisions about her life. I reached over, to touch a strand of her hair. “That makes two of us.”
She leaned into my touch for a second before shifting to admire the water. “At breakfast this morning, Da didn’t say a word about Brian. He was in a rush, barely glanced at me before leavin’. I think he assumes everything’s as he planned.”
I sighed, taking her hand in mine. “He’s gonna find out, Fi. Sooner or later.”
She nodded. “I know. I just don’t know what I’ll do when he does.”
I hated the uncertainty in her voice, the way she still held that thread of fear. “We’ll handle it,” I promised. “Together.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “Aye. No goin’ backward.”
We fell into easy conversation after that, eating apples from her bag as we watched the stream ripple and bugs skim across the surface. At some point, I stretched out on my back, hands tucked behind my head, staring up at the clouds. Fiona lay beside me, propped on her elbow, eyes twinkling.
“So,” she said, her smile soft and I got distracted by that mouth. “Teach me somethin’ ye’d say in Kentucky.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
She shrugged. “A phrase. Somethin’ ye’d say back home particular to yer culture.”
I smirked, thinking for a second before saying, “Well, in summer you’ll hear my mom complain it’s hotter than a goat in a pepper patch.”
Fiona giggled. “A goat in a pepper patch? What does that even mean?”
God, I loved the sound of her laugh. Light and carefree, with just enough husky warmth to make my pulse skip. “No clue, but goats will eat anything, including hot peppers if they find their way into a patch. I suppose they’d be on fire after an all-out pepper buffet.”
Fiona laughed until she was in tears. “What’s another one?”
I thought about my parents, my friends, my community. As much as I loved this beautiful green country and the gorgeous Irish lass within it, I loved Kentucky to the depths of my soul. “People will often say ‘If the creek don’t rise.’ It means, ‘I’ll do it, so long as nothin’ unexpected gets in the way.’ Back home we’ve got creeks that can flood real fast after a heavy rain. If that happens, roads get washed out, and you’re not going anywhere until the water goes down. So when someone says, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, if the creek don’t rise,’ they mean, ‘I’ll be there—unless somethin’ outside my control messes it up.’”
Fiona tilted her head, considering it. “So basically, it’s just a fancy way of sayin’ ‘If all goes well’?”
Grinning, I deepened my drawl in an exaggerated way. “Out where I’m from, that’d be said clear as a bell down in the holler.”