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)
“Kathleen has somethin’ for ye,” Rory said as we meandered down a path to his cottage. It had none of the grandeur of the manor home that my family lived in, but truthfully, I loved it more. It was made of rough-cut stone and a slate roof, and it felt solid and comforting.
We entered through the wide wooden door painted a deep green, and I smiled at the flower boxes hanging from the rectangular sash windows. The minute we stepped inside, I smelled fresh-baked soda bread and we found Kathleen bustling at the well-used kitchen hearth and cast-iron stove.
Kathleen O’Rourke was Rory’s girlfriend and they’d been together for as long as I could remember. I always thought it was so progressive that they weren’t married and lived together—an utter sin said our priest—but I’d never seen two people more devoted to each other.
I noticed the small but thoughtful details Kathleen brought into this home—fresh herbs hanging to dry, a vase of wildflowers on the table, a knitted throw draped over the old leather chair by the fire.
Kathleen turned with a smile when she saw me. “Ah, there’s the wee fairy who rides the horses like lightning,” she cooed and opened her arms to me. I walked into the warm hug, something I didn’t get much of in my own home.
Kathleen pulled back, put her hands to my cheeks and studied me carefully. “I like that blush to yer cheeks and that wild sparkle in yer eyes. Ye’ve been riding the wind, haven’t ye?”
“Indeed,” I said as Rory leaned in to kiss Kathleen.
Not on the cheek as my father sometimes did with my mother, but a hard kiss with his hand to the back of her head. I sighed inside at how romantic it was.
When she pulled away, Rory swatted her on the bottom and Kathleen flicked a kitchen towel at him before turning to me. “I’ve made ye something.”
My heart pulsed with love because Kathleen was always doing thoughtful things for everyone, even my own mam, although Mam didn’t care for her too much. She thought it was a sin for Kathleen and Rory to be living together without marriage.
Rory sank into a chair and watched with a half-smile as Kathleen pulled a box out of a cupboard. It was white with a beautiful silver bow on it.
When she handed it to me, I looked at her in confusion. “It’s not my birthday, Aunt Kathleen.”
Her features softened at the endearment I bestowed upon her, even though she’s not married to Rory. I asked her once why they hadn’t wed and she said there was no need to. She loved Rory just fine the way he was, and besides, “I’m my own woman.”
I loved that and tucked it away into my knowledge base on how a strong, independent woman should be.
“I don’t need a birthday to give ye something, but in this instance, I made it.”
I tipped my head curiously but was too excited to question her much more. I lifted the box lid and gasped at the maroon and cream silk staring back at me.
“Oh, wow,” I murmured as I lifted the racing clothes up to behold. “This is for me?”
“Of course. Ye need something to wear once ye start competing, don’t ye?”
I glanced at Rory, whose eyes shone with satisfaction. He knew my dad didn’t want me riding steeplechase, and yet he happily defied him so I could pursue my dreams.
Tears welled but I blinked them away. “They’re beautiful,” I said softly, setting the silks down to lift out the pair of matching cream jodhpurs. “Thank ye so much.”
“I can’t wait to see ye wear them,” Kathleen said with a firm nod as she tossed the towel on the counter. “Now I have to run to the pub for a bit.”
Another reason my mam didn’t like Kathleen was because she owned a pub in Fethard and that was just too indecorous, but I thought it was fabulous. Kathleen brushed by Rory, who reached a hand out, their fingers grazing.
Just a small touch of affection and I vowed that I’d have that in my life one day.
“We’ll head over to Kildare on Sunday,” Rory said after Kathleen had left. “I got track time for ye to practice on.”
Excitement flared in my chest, but I kept my face carefully neutral. “Are ye serious?”
He nodded. “Aye, but it stays between us, yeah? Yer da wouldn’t be pleased.”
That was an understatement. If my da knew I was racing, jumping, training for something more than a quiet, obedient life, he’d put a stop to it before I could blink. But Rory, the younger of Patrick Conlan’s two sons, saw me. He knew what I wanted and was hell-bent on helping me achieve my dreams.
“I won’t say a word,” I promised.
Rory smiled in satisfaction. “Yer welcome for supper tonight. Kathleen’s making a roast.”