Page 38 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
His brow knit. “Me?”
“I haven’t seen you look that free on a horse in some time,” she said, putting out a hand to Legend. “You don’t ride for fun anymore. Not the way you used to with Ryan. Or with Carrick and the other boys.”
“Are you a mind reader too?” he asked. “I was just thinking about those times. We used to race our ponies across the shoreline with the sole purpose of scattering seagulls.”
“Except Brady, of course." She laughed heartily. “He always rode one of his family’s many donkeys.”
“Hence the name of the Brazen Donkey.”
She nodded. “It’s a good name for a pub. I remember those days well, as I was often on the beach collecting shells. Why did you stop?”
He gave her the pat answer. “We grew up.”
They both knew it wasn’t completely true, but he’d never told anyone about the time his father had caught him racing—and pressed the point about him competing. He’d been thirteen. Kade had done what he usually did with his father. Chosen the path of least resistance. He’d stopped racing completely, which had equally angered his father until he’d left him alone.
He’d made peace with missing it, or so he’d thought. Until recently.
“You’re right about growing up. Except you’re the only one who still has horses. Yet you don’t ride them except to exercise them or heal them. Something to think about. I’ll leave you.”
Her wink was her final riposte before she disappeared. He would think on what she said as much as this old feeling resurrected inside him. But right now, he simply wanted to be with Megan.
When she reached him, she slid off Blaze and ran over to pick up a large white seashell curved from the circles of time in the sea. “Look what I found.”
She clutched it to her chest like a treasure—like Sorcha had as a girl, he recalled—and he dismounted to join her. She took a few steps and bent over again. “Red sea glass! Oh, what a day!”
He leaned down and picked up a beautiful green piece of glass and held it out to her. “That’s the beauty of life. Every day presents us with more miracles.”
She raced over and hugged him. “I love it when you talk like that. Come on. I’ve been wanting to take my shoes off and walk in the shallows.”
This was something he hadn’t done much of either lately. He rarely walked along the beach in bare feet except when he took the time to visit Achilles Island. Taking his shoes off, he tossed them away from the surf. “Why haven’t you before?”
Her grimace was enchanting as she set her shoes and socks carefully on a nearby rock, well away from the tide, and then walked back to him. “Oh my God! The water’s cold.”
“It’s the Irish Sea, love. It’s always cold.”
“Right.” She padded out of the water. “The old reason was that Tyson worried about me being by the water. I got over that after I arrived here, so here’s my current predicament. I’m a recovering clean freak. I love the beach, but I’ve never liked sand in my shoes. Or the car. Or the house. Or the laundry basket. Pretty much anywhere.”
He took her hand, the one holding her seashell. “Sand looks good on you, Megan.”
Their eyes met, and he watched her chest rise as the awareness between them grew. He stroked the side of her palm and heard her breath catch.
“Ireland looks good on me,” she said softly.
He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “It does at that, love.”
She gave a small smile and then lowered her eyes. He dropped his hand, sensing she needed time to become used to his touch.
When she busied herself with picking up more sea glass, he simply watched her. Some things couldn’t be rushed, and he wasn’t inclined to try. His father, though… Kade thought about their tugging and pulling over the way of things.
It hadn’t always been this way. His father was the one who’d taught him to ride, and Kade’s first race across this beach had been with him. Back then, his father had thrown him in the air in delight, his booming laugh making sand crabs withdraw into their shells. Their enjoyment had been pure then—no words about competing or being a man or besting one another. Time had ruined that, and his heart hurt for it.
When was the last time they’d laughed together, only the two of them? He couldn’t remember.
“You look sad, Kade,” Megan said, standing up.
“Thought of my father, love,” he answered, picking up a rock and throwing it into the sea.
“I wish mine wasn’t coming.” She closed the hand holding her treasures. “I wish Angie could have found a way to invite my mom only. You must think I’m terrible to say that.”
