Page 69 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
He made the sign of tipping his hat to her, and then he was striding to his Mercedes. She waved as he drove off and looked down at her rose.
Of all the gifts she’d ever been given, surely this rose was at the top of the list. But what moved her more was that he’d chosen it to help her win the flower competition.
Nowthatwas a way to win her heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
His sheep had all been sheared. The days had been long and grueling, and he was sitting sprawled in his garden, a cold beer in hand, when his friends rounded the corner.
“I thought Jamie might make an appearance to mollycoddle me but not the lot of you,” Carrick said as they made themselves at home, grabbing beers and extra chairs from inside and plunking themselves down around him.
“And miss one of your most depressing moments of the whole year?” Declan stroked his jaw. “I brought my cleaver in case you wanted to cut your heart out at last.”
“Of course we came. It’s the day when all of Sorcha’s words aren’t around you anymore,” Kade said, setting another beer in front of him after unscrewing the top.
No, they all lay in the discarded wool coats stacked up in the back of his shed. The word on the top of the pile had seemed to light up in bright blue as he finished.Release. He’d bit his tongue to keep from frowning.
“How bad is it this year?” Brady asked, flicking his beer cap like a coin in the air. “As a postman, I’m wondering is it aWe’re Thinking About YouorYou Have Our Greatest Condolenceskind of card?”
He’d been wrecked other years, the first especially. If he were being honest, this year hadn’t been as hard as usual. In fact, he’d been cross with Sorcha for her interference with Angie—for the smell of oranges that had hung in the garden that night—so much so that he’d told himself he was glad her words were being stripped from his sheep.
Still, the sadness had come, as it always did. As more words came off, he’d felt the familiar stinging in his eyes, which he’d explained away as sweat. If his shearer had noticed, he hadn’t said a word.
Throughout the long, grueling process, Carrick’s thoughts had drifted to Angie. He couldn’t wait to see her paintings and have her see his house. Of course, he’d been strolling the fields every morning like usual, and they’d had a chat each morning. In fact, they couldn’t seem to stop talking. He’d made a habit of lingering longer than expected, though she hadn’t complained.
That night in the garden had changed things. He could feel it in the air between them.
Realizing his friends were waiting for a response, he said, “You got the right card and came tonight, clearly thinking of me. Thank you.”
“Well, I’m glad we didn’t need to dress up in black,” Declan said. “It’s a depressing color, it is.”
It could be, yes, but the way Angie used it wasn’t depressing at all. He’d caught a glimpse of one of her almost finished paintings. A black tree in a bright green field, almost brilliant in its shadow. That black conveyed power. He’d liked it very much.
“You look like an undertaker in black anyway, brother,” Brady said, flicking his hand at him. “Your butcher white suits you better, but can you tell me why you wear white when it shows the blood?”
“It’s to show we’re good at our job,” Declan said with a firm nod. “Not gabbing like you, Brady, on your mail runs, or lolling your days away, like you, Jamie.”
“Hey! I’m on summer break. Remember?”
“If all that lolling gets to you,” Kade said, “come by my place to help out. After Liam finishes painting the fencing in primary colors for the kids.”
“Which your dad hates,” Brady said, making a scary face.
“Tell me a new story.” Kade sighed.
“Where is Liam tonight, by the way?” Jamie asked.
“He had a hot date with an American visiting her relations for the summer over in Foxford,” Brady said. “I saw her picture on Facebook. She’s a beauty, but alas, she’ll be gone soon.”
Carrick thought back to the tourists he’d enjoyed. Funny how he’d had no interest in seeking any of them out after Angie’s arrival. “Go on with your story, Kade.”
He ruffled the brown mop of his hair. “Well, I got to thinking it would be grand to have a couple bridges, which means I’m going to extend the path. You’re better at carpentry than Liam.”
Everyone went silent. They all knew if Jamie were going to be doing any carpentry, it would be at Fitzgerald’s Folly. Carrick met Kade’s eyes, which gleamed with knowing. Hadn’t Sorcha enlisted his help? She didn’t want him to finish the house unless he did it on his own terms—as his house, not hers.
He could let himself get angry, but instead he took a sip of his beer, then said, “Jamie has a good mind for the kind of bridge the kids would like. You’d be lucky to have him, Kade.”
Maybe when he finished the house, he could lend Kade a hand. His friend’s father certainly wouldn’t lift a finger to help. Although he allowed Kade to carry on his business, he had no liking for it. He always talked about not wanting his respectable horse farm turned into a circus.
