Page 59 of The Irish Redemption

Cormac grunts in his usual way, as if waving off my words, but something is different. His stance falters slightly, and his hands fall away from his horse. “You’ve no idea how much,” he says, and his voice shatters like a fragile vase. “I think… I think it might kill me.”

Never have I seen a larger man suddenly grow so small as grief consumes him. He sinks down to the straw-covered ground and sobs. They’re loud and open, raw pain pouring forth like a river, and the tears come so swiftly that it sounds like he can’t breathe. My heart breaks for him and I crash to my knees, joining him on the floor.

“Oh, Cormac,” I say sadly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I miss him.” Cormac chokes. “I miss him so fucking much.”

23

CORMAC

“You’re laughing at me,” Evelyn gasps breathlessly as she slides down from her third failed attempt to get into the saddle. “This is harder than it looks!” Her hair catches in the gentle breeze, lifting away from her face and making her wide smile even more prominent.

My heart squeezes.

“Yes, tell the experienced rider that getting on a horse is harder than it looks.” I chuckle.

Evelyn pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not built for this. I’m a woman who likes cars and maybe, at a stretch, bikes. Horses are a whole other deal.” She casts a nervous look toward the gentle filly I chose for her first ride.

Marie is an old horse and usually the one we give to children when they’re about to embark on their first grown-up trail ride, so I thought she would be perfect for a ride with Evelyn. It seems she’s more awkward than I first realized, though, and things aren’t going to plan.

Not that I’m concerned. After breaking down in Evelyn’s arms in the barn yesterday, I’ve been trying to shake this foolish feeling that drapes over me like a shawl. A ride with Evelyn feels like the perfect cure. We deserve to be out in nature, exploring the ranch and spending time with her with a few treats I’ve gathered in the bag hanging from Parsley. If Evelyn can get onto the horse.

“Do you want to try again?” I ask as she readies herself for another attempt, but there’s defeat clinging to her brows, and I’d rather not start this day off with disappointment. “Or ride with me?”

Evelyn’s eyes light up, even as she chews slightly on her lower lip. “Your horse can take two of us?”

“My horse can take me,” I point out. “You will barely be felt.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t even try to hide her eagerness.

I laugh and offer her my hand, which she takes, then I lead her across the paddock to where Parsley stands, chewing lazily on the grass at her feet.

“You ready, Parsley?”

She lifts her head and snorts softly, pulling slightly at her reins. I keep one arm around Evelyn and then lift her up bridal style to set her right down on the saddle. She lands with a squeak and immediately clutches at Parsley’s mane. I pull myself up behind her and scooch forward until I’m mainly on the saddle and Evelyn is in my lap, then I take the reins in one hand and keep one arm around her waist.

“Oh!” Evelyn squeals as I nudge Parsley into movement. “Don’t let me fall!”

“You won’t fall,” I assure her, murmuring low in her ear. “I promise.” I tighten my grip around her waist to show her that I have her, and the ride starts—after I call to Ma that Marie can go back to the stables.

The ride is everything I need it to be. Evelyn is tense at the start of the journey, so I ensure Parsley keeps a slow, steady pace through theranch and toward the forest. As Evelyn relaxes against me and grows more comfortable on the horse, I pick up the pace until we’re trotting comfortably along the trail toward the lake. The air is thick with the scents of pine, floral mixtures, and dirt warming in the early afternoon sun. Birds chirp, trees whisper and creak in the wind, and a few squirrels chitter over the branches above us. The stress of the city melts away, and suddenly, I’m a teenager again, just exploring with my horse. Nothing else matters. I keep Evelyn close to me, and she’s mostly silent, except for a few gasps of awe and murmurs of how cute the other animals are.

When we reach the lake, she’s much more vocal.

“Holy shit.” she gasps as I slide from the horse and then help her down from the saddle. “This is beautiful!” Evelyn takes a few steps away and then winces, clutching at her thighs. “Oh, my God, ow.”

Laughing, I unhitch my bag and then firmly secure Parsley to a nearby stake in the ground. “Sore?”

“So sore,” she whines. “What the heck?”

“Welcome to horseback riding.”

“Oh, my God.” Evelyn waddles down the path toward the sandy beach that lines the beautiful, deep blue lake that stretches out as far as the eye can see.

There’s a scattering of boats in the far distance, but we’re secluded enough that I don’t mind. Following her, I remove a picnic blanket from my bag and toss it down onto the sand.

“Sit and rest,” I instruct, moving toward the water’s edge. As Evelyn situates herself, I gather water for Parsley as well as some feed, then take it back to her so she can eat her fill while we relax. Parsley snuffles in gratitude, and I pet her nose, then kiss her. Moving back to Evelyn, some of the other items in the bag are the ingredients to a gorgeous picnic, and Evelyn’s aching pain is quickly forgotten.

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