Page 104 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
“Why can’t women play the field?” Shannon asked.
“It threatens the male order?” Angie postulated. “But back to this bad luck.”
“Enough of that. Angie, you forget what anyone says. Your and Carrick’s opinions are the only ones that matter on the subject. You remember that.”
She wanted to agree, but theydidhave a ghost working on their behalf, which meant at least some of the old myths were true. The other part of her mind was still trying to process the way the village bet on everything. Did Carrick know? What did he think about that? Heck, what did she think?
They hadn’t talked about long-term, but she wanted to be with him.
Oh, Angie, hold the phone.
She left shortly thereafter and headed to the shuttle buses to the fairground, trying to tap back into the victorious feeling she’d had after selling all her paintings. But she still couldn’t dismiss what Shannon had said to her about bad luck. That was the last thing she needed or wanted.
The faint smell of oranges around her as she rode to the fairground didn’t assure her.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Carrick had his money and then some.
Baron didn’t disappoint, and his new owner was overjoyed to be buying his coveted, six-month-old Texel ram, a breed known for its muscular build and lean meat. The ram had won the top prize as predicted. His perfection—in the shape of his head, body, and golden color—was unassailable. God bless his first sheep, Pinky. It had all started with his longtime friend.
Angie had arrived just in time to see the end of the bidding. Seven bidders had engaged in a heated battle, until a well-known sheep farmer from County Meath had outbid them all.
“One hundred and eighty thousand euros!” Angie had sputtered alongside his mother, who was crying. “Oh, Carrick, I’m so happy for you.”
He hugged his mother, who had a tissue pressed to her eyes, and then turned to his father, who also had rare tears in his eyes. “You made it happen, son. By God, I’m proud of you.”
“Is that a lot of money?” Ollie asked, making them all laugh.
Megan tousled his hair. “Yes, it’s a whole bunch of money. Congratulations.”
“Yes, congratulations, man,” Kade said, hugging him.
Ollie jumped in the air and cried, “You’re rich, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“He’s always been rich,” Jamie said, wrapping an arm around him and grinning. “But today he might as well be sheep royalty.”
Carrick laughed heartily. He was rich, and he’d grow richer still after word spread. Oh, the plans he could make. “I’ve found the right breeding formula, and the fairies have blessed me with luck.” Perhaps Sorcha had even intervened. “Bets, you’ll have the money I owe you as soon as it hits my bank account.”
“Whenever.” She grabbed his arm, and they shared a look. “I knew you could do it. My God, I should go into sheep.”
Donal groaned. “Did you forget what they did to your roses?”
She pressed her gold trophy to her chest. “Right! But it all turned out well in the end because of you. You should have seen Mary Kincaid’s face when I set my roses out. She turned green! Oh, we have so much to celebrate.”
Yes, they did. He wanted to toast with Angie and then drink with his family and friends. She’d had such a grand day herself, selling all her paintings. He was overjoyed for her. For him. Forthem. Putting his arm around her, he reflected that it was a day neither of them was likely to forget.
He’d fulfilled a promise from his past.
She’d put to rest demons from her own.
They’d both started anew, and now they could truly start on their life together.
“My God, man,” Donal said, slapping him on the back. “You set a record today. Soon your sheep will be selling for the likes of Double Diamond.”
“Who’s that?” Ollie asked, bouncing up and down in the showing yard.
“A sheep that sold for almost five hundred thousand euros in Scotland,” Carrick said, laughing as Brady and Declan hoisted him up onto their shoulders. He punched a fist into the air, and they carried him through the crowd, Liam clearing the path.
