Page 30 of Back in the Saddle

I flinched. Bile rose in my throat.

Ciaron stood up and shoved his chair away. “I’d like to say it was nice to meet you, but that would be a lie.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “Taylor, go pack your things.”

I nodded and made my way to the room near the stairs, listening to the conversation behind me.

“You can have her, but mark my words, you’ll be back in Ireland soon enough.”

I poked my head out the door between throwing things into my suitcase.

Ciaron was glaring at my father. “You know what your problem is? You’re a loser. You couldn’t stand being with a well-respected, successful woman.” He glanced around the table. “So, you had to settle for second best. You can keep your wife and your little brats.”

Orla gasped.

Holy shit! My heart raced as I grabbed the rest of my things, still watching as much as I could. I needed to see this family put in their place.

Ciaron turned on Orla. “Don’t try to pretend you’re better than me.” He lifted his lips in a knowing smile. “How many times have you been to the Shamrock Pub?”

She opened her mouth and closed it without uttering a word.

I checked the room one last time before I made my way back to the dining room. I must have set a record for packing, which was probably a good thing, as it was getting tenser by the minute.

Ciaron turned as I approached. Then he gave them all one last look. “Don’t expect an invitation to the wedding.”

He met me and we walked out hand in hand. We shoved my suitcase in the back and hopped in the car.

I leant over and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“I hope this car will start.”

“She hasn’t failed you yet.” I laughed until I cried, probably from relief. We drove into the village.

“How about some dinner and a room for the night?”

“So you can show me a good time?” I joked.

“Anything would have to be better than that.”

At the conclusionof the story, Mum smiled broadly at Ciaron. “When Taylor told me that story, I knew you were the man for her.”

The kids beamed with what I could only describe as pride. In all their lives, they’d only seen their dad angry a handful of times. When he was angry, he meant it.

Like the day we’d argued, and he’d left.

I snuck a look at his tattoo. At his wrist was the traditional Claddagh—two hands embracing a heart adorned with a crown—the symbol of love, loyalty and friendship. He got it in the three days we spent together before I returned to Australia. It matched the ring he gave me, which I still wore on my finger.

Love, loyalty and friendship. As if that man would ever cheat on me. His loyalty and love had never wavered.

I raised my eyes to his. He was watching me. My heart leaped.

We chatted through and after dinner. It was like old times, laughing with Mum and the kids. I missed this—our togetherness. It’s amazing what you appreciate after it was gone. Perhaps that was a problem the world over, that people didn’t appreciate what they have enough.

Ciaron stood up. “I’m heading to bed. Got an early start tomorrow. Caslicks are coming out.”

Mum set her wine glass down. “I’ll meet you down at the crush. Seeing I’m here, I may as well help.”

He smiled. “You sure are earning your keep. First dinner, then getting the kids to do chores and now farm work.”

“Is that elderly abuse?” Callum asked.

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