Page 36 of Promise Me This

“Yum!” Niamh groans, scooping a bite into her mouth.

“No one tells Callum,” Siobhan warns, spoon aimed at each of our heads in turn. I’m unsure whether she’s referring to the situation with Colin or that we’re eating dessert before dinner, but either way, Niamh and I nod in agreement.

Then we dig in.

Chapter Sixteen

Callum

“So we’ve gone hunting,” Padraig says.

“Yep.”

He shifts next to me as I scan the rolling hills. “Hunting for?”

“Pheasant, some woodcock.”

He starts to snicker, ever the sense of humor of a child, but manages to swallow it. “And we haven’t brought guns?”

My gaze cuts to him. The wrinkles around his eyes deepen as he offers me the world’s most sardonic smile. Our breaths come out in twin puffs of smoke, evaporating into the cold air between us. I roll my eyes at him and then look away. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” he says, full-on laughing now, “is that without the guns, this is really just two lads gone bird watching.”

I frown at no one in particular. The man is not wrong.

Granda used to bring me out here on his hunting trips. I never much cared for the guns or killing things, but I enjoyed the time spent with him and his two hunting dogs. Even now, several years since his passing, it’s here that I feel the closest to him. It’s here that I can think the clearest.

“My gun permit expired just after Granda passed. I haven’t gotten around to renewing.” I shrug, and Padraig’s laughter subsides. “Just needed some fresh air, I suppose.”

“There’s quite a lot of fresh air closer to home, and these clothes aren’t required to enjoy it.” He gestures to his head-to-toe army-green sweater and slacks. The look is completed by a flat cap, like a true Irish gentleman. A stark contrast to his usual tracksuits.

“In fairness, no one asked you to dress like that.”

“You’re dressed like that!”

I glance down at my ensemble, which closely resembles his. Minus the cap. “Yeah, but I can pull it off,” I say, offering my best attempt at a cocky grin.

“Oh, fuck off, man.” He punches my shoulder firmly.

A shot rings out somewhere in the distance, and we both follow the sound with our gazes. The tall grass ebbs and flows under the constant wind gusts, looking more like the ocean surface than a hillside. A babbling creek nearby adds to the cacophony of nature sounds filling my ears, but I don’t mind the dull roar. Beats the nonsense circling my mind.

Padraig takes a seat on the slick surface of a boulder, retrieves a protein bar from his pack, and rips it open. I join him, immediately regretting it when the dampness starts to soak through my pants. Hazard of being out in nature in a country known for its rain, but still.

“What’s going on, man? You’ve been out of sorts all week.” Padraig takes a bite of the bar and starts to chew with his mouth open. My least favorite thing about him. I glance away.

Padraig has been nothing but a solid friend to me over the years. He had my back when Catherine ran off, and he treats Niamh as if she were his niece rather than a nuisance. But he’s not the one I really wish I could talk to about this.

Granda always knew what to say, but more importantly, he knew what to do. He embodied everything a man should be, everything I want to be, even until the very end. That ever-present tide of grief rises to the surface, and I swallow thickly over the lump that forms in my throat. Padraig catches the bobbing of my Adam’s apple but doesn’t comment.

He may not be as wise as my grandfather, but he will listen. He will try to help. And at this point I’ll go crazy if these thoughts don’t stop pinballing around in my head.

I open the levers and let the balls drop out. “I talked to Leo last weekend, during the storm.”

“Oh yeah?” Padraig replies a little too enthusiastically. He clears his throat before continuing. “How’d that go?”

I press my lips firmly together and shake my head. “For a moment it felt like nothing had changed. Like the past twelve years hadn’t happened at all, or happened differently at least. The way they were supposed to.” My hands begin to ache with how harshly I’m wringing them. “But there’s something guarded about her, in a way that she wasn’t before. And I just know that’s what’s going to be the death of me if I let her get too close again.”

His eyebrows nearly hit his receding hairline. “So what I’m hearing is, you want her to get close again?”

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