Page 36 of Wild Irish

Her reaction startles me, but it’s pure fear that has adrenaline racing through my veins when I see her lose her footing.

“Jaysus, Delaney.” I grab her by the waist before she tumbles down the steep drop on the other side of her.

Pulling her to my chest, I hold her tight until I’m certain my heart has started working again.

“What the hell was that?” Her hands are on my chest, her breathing coming out in small gasps.

“It was just a sheep.”

“A sheep?” Her fingers ball in my shirt. “Are there more of them?”

I chuckle, and kiss her forehead. “Yeah, but they won’t hurt ye.”

She peeks around my shoulder cautiously. “Are there any other wild animals up here that I should know about?”

“Ye might see a fox or a badger, but they won’t hurt ye, either.”

She gives me a look like she doesn’t believe me. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Ye travelled across the ocean to see this place. Don’t tell me a little lamb is going to scare ye off.”

She sighs and nods. “You’re right.”

“Let’s go. It’s still a good thirty minutes to the top.”

She groans, but takes my hand and starts to climb again. “How many times have you been here?”

“A couple times. Once for a school trip.”

“And the other time?”

“My mom brought me.” It’s one of the last good memories I have of her.

“You haven’t mentioned her before.”

“There’s not much to mention. She left when I was young. Haven’t seen her since.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” I grumble, a wave of bitterness hitting me like it always does when I think about the woman.

A fog rolls down the hill, and the sun disappears behind the clouds. A breeze whips around us, dropping the temperature.

“This doesn’t seem safe. Someone needs to write to the…to whoever owns the mountain and tell them to put in a gondola. Or at least a proper path,” she says, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“I figure ye don’t do a lot of hiking in Chicago.”

“No.” She glances over her shoulder at me.

“Watch yer step–”

My warning comes a second too late. Her foot catches on a root, and she stumbles before I can catch her.

“Ye okay?” I help her stand. I’m starting to think the woman has some serious bad luck hanging over her head.

“Yes,” she says, jaw clenched, but when she takes another step, I see her wince.

“Ye’re hurt.”

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