Page 40 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
“Bets, it was the buzz of the village these past days. You must’ve known what we were after.” He nodded to her water gun. “You were ready for us.”
His superior brow rose, and she almost shot him again for good measure. “We didn’t have names.”
“Like you couldn’t squeeze them out of someone?”
She let out a frustrated sound. “How long have I lived here? Like we could stop you eejits. Donal, these classes are important to me. It’s a chance to start something meaningful for the village.”
“I admire the hell out of you for the business pursuits you’ve created since Bruce died, but let’s be honest,” he countered, pointing his finger at her. “They won’t feed your soul completely—keeping you busy and occupied and not thinking about living alone for the rest of your life. Trust me. I’ve been working my whole life, so I know. You’re not meant to, girl, and neither am I.”
She tightened her grip as the same confusion covered her. He’d talked like this before on a stormy day in early April, standing in her parlor, dripping on her rug with a bouquet of gorgeous red roses, ones he’d said were to make up for the damage his sheep had done the day before. “I don’t want you to talk like this. I’ve already told you that.”
“What are you afraid of?” He threw the towel in his hand aside. “I’m not giving up until you see sense. I know how you’ve looked at me since you grieved Bruce. I know how I’ve felt about you since I grieved my Margaret. Why do you think I haven’t been sewing up the holes in my fencing these past months? Girl, I’ve been courting you. Even my father and my two girls in Dublin are cheering me on. They’ve always liked you.”
She stepped back, almost dropping the water pistol. He’d spoken to his family about her? “Courting me? That’s a fine excuse for your sheep getting out.”
His eyes narrowed. “Bets, my sheep have never gotten out this much, and I swear to you it’s over now that your roses are starting to bloom. Did you think I was bringing by gifts only to apologize?”
Sure, she’d been suspicious at first—the problem of the sheepwasa new one—but she’d persuaded herself there was nothing to it. Oh, why hadn’t her girlfriends said anything? “But I knew your Margaret.”
“And I knew your Bruce. Both were fine people, but they’re gone from us now, girl.”
She still hated hearing that, even if it was true. “I don’t want to get married again, Donal. I loved Bruce with all my heart, but I don’t fancy taking care of another Irishman. You know how you are.”
His brows slammed together. “Saints preserve us. All right, even though I’m not proposing marriage, I’ll ask you. How are we?”
“You want someone to cook and clean for you,” she continued. “You threw that towel on the floor, for heaven’s sake.”
“Which I’ll pick up when you stop picking at me like a hen—”
“I want to do more than take care of another man in my final years. I want to travel, which you can’t do as a farmer. I also want to do something with all this space I have. I haveideas. You’re right about me wanting to keep busy, but I don’t see anything wrong with that. I like being busy.”
“You’ve got your opinions, I see, but you always did.” He scratched his jaw. “I’m not sure today is the day to address them all save one. I’ve managed to cook and clean just fine without a woman around. Not that I don’t appreciate everything Margaret did for us. Our agreement was that she’d take care of the home and kids, and I would take care of the sheep and make a living. It doesn’t have to be like that with us, Bets—although let me say again that I’d only like to spend some time with you to start. You’re the one talking about marriage. I mean, I know I’m irresistible—”
“Widowed men don’t like to be alone—”
“Carrick Fitzgerald is an exception then,” he countered. “Oh, let’s put this to bed for the moment. I’m sorry if the scene at your painting class made you cross. Bets, I honestly thought it would make you see me in a new light.”
Her eyes flew down to his crotch. “Did you, now?”
“Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Yes, I wanted you to see me as a man.”
She sure as hell had. After that, there’d be no forgetting he was a man and then some.
“But more,” he said, leaning closer to her, “I wanted you to see I could get into some fun like you and the Lucky Charms do. That I could fit you in that way. I know it’s important to you.”
Her legs seemed to weaken under her as if the ground had given way. She hadn’t expected him to be so sincere, so intent…
“I also needed to know if Ilikedgetting into that kind of trouble,” he said, his serious gaze touching her face. “Know what? Despite the nerves I’ve had all week, thinking about our stunt, I liked it. And I sure as hell like that you charged over here to poke at me for it.”
She lifted her water gun again and shot him straight in the chest, making him laugh, damn him. “Then here’s me poking you one last time. Now, I’m leaving. Keep your sheep in your pasture and away from my roses.”
“I gave you my word—”
“I want to win the top prize at the fair this year.”
“You will if I have anything to say about,” he said, prompting her to shoot him again.
“And stay away from my painting classes.”
