Page 116 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
Kade bent over and petted Duke when the dog pawed his foot. “We decided against it. We did that before, and it didn’t work. I don’t believe kicking anyone produces much result anyway. In the end, we all have to make our own way. We figured you know you have friends who care about you.”
He was so off-balance he took a step back. “Sorcha hasn’t visited you?”
“No,” his friend said crisply.
He sniffed the air for oranges, but only came away with odorous farm smells. “Not once?” Hadn’t she been all up in his business about being with Angie? “She put messages on my sheep about love being here and the like. She’s never been one to give up.”
“Maybe she gave up because you both did,” Kade said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Both? What do you mean?”
Kade made a sound before saying, “I thought you’d have heard. It’s all the village can talk about. The county council shut down Bets’ arts center because Mary Kincaid spewed a bunch of bullshit about Angie teaching nudes on-site and it being indecent. So the Yank is leaving once she’s well enough to travel. She’s going to paint somewhere else.”
He reared back, causing Duke to bark sharply. She was leaving?
“What? How could this happen? Why isn’t Bets fixing it?”
“She, Donal, and most of the village tried, but the council dug its feet in.” Kade patted him on the shoulder again. “Donal has even resigned over it. Look, Ollie will be back shortly, and I’m trying to keep his spirits up. He and his mom are staying, which I’m glad about. They’ve both done well here.”
Shock roiled through him. Her sister was staying, but she wasn’t? “Angiehas done well here. She can’t simply leave.”
“Be hard to have you both in the village, I imagine. We agree, Declan particularly. He thought of going to Dublin after his engagement ended. But then herself left and he stayed. Remember?”
The waning sun came out from behind the shed and struck him in the eyes. He couldn’t see for a moment. He lifted his hands to shade them. “I don’t like this, Kade. Not one bit.”
His friend’s mouth lifted. “Then do something.” Kade slapped him in the shoulder this time, and then he was striding toward the house, leaving Carrick alone in the yard.
He pulled out his phone and made a few calls, as much to hear how the wind was blowing around the closure as whether there was any way to overturn it. He hit a stone wall. The county council had never reversed a decision, and there were plenty of hard feelings in the mix because of Donal leaving and people calling them thick for the decision. The only way to handle the situation, a good source said, was to create an entirely new center, which was as ridiculous as this mess.
Leaving, he let his head hang in his car before he drove off. He wandered up the roads he’d driven his whole life. The fields were turning that golden color Angie loved. Pain shot through his heart as he thought of her.
He didn’t want her to leave where she’d thrived. When he reached the pasture to the west of Bets’ land, he parked and got out. He patted a few sheep as he walked the fields. There were no messages to guide him, and he’d never felt so lost or alone.
He looked around, hoping Sorcha would give him some other sign. The sky was a rich blue dotted with clouds, ones he wouldn’t have noticed if Angie hadn’t exclaimed over their beauty. She’d helped him see the richness of life again.
God, it was hard to go back to the bareness. The numbness that had lingered over him for days had lifted. The hurt was there, at them breaking, but the wonder she’d helped him recover was still present. It made the pain worse because she wasn’t here to share it with him.
He looked at the cottage, wondering how she was, wishing with all his being that he was stronger in spirit.
To love her had been a joy. To fear losing her an agony.
But to know she’d left because of him…that he’d been the cause of her losing something good, something vital. That would be a new kind of hell.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Looking across the land, he asked Sorcha and all the angels in heaven for help to find a way to keep Angie here. For a way for Bets to have her arts center to uplift everyone in the community. Sorcha would have loved a place like that. She might have even taught poetry there if she’d lived.
The ground under his feet seemed to move. His sheared sheep jolted and started to run. He looked around for a reason but found none. He was on to something… He had to be. This was a sign. He started walking again and felt pulled to his new house on the hill.
When he reached it, he noticed an envelope taped on the front door. He pulled the papers out of it and looked at the deed, freshly stamped with his name on it. Bets had moved fast, but then again, she always did. He started to shove the papers back in, but a ray of sunlight landed on the first paragraph. He read the language, and his heart started to pound in his chest.
Venturing inside, he looked over what he’d built. Thought aboutwhyhe’d built it. Let himself feel the pride of having achieved what he’d set out to do—even if the old dream would never be. Then he let it all go and walked over to where Angie had set up her painting things. He traced the edge of her easel and then made himself look at her work.
She told the story of him in all of them, from the early wariness in his eyes to the love she’d brought to them.
He had changed.
She had changed him.
