Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition (8 page)

The day went by quickly and Keira had a great time with the small group guided by a young Scottish woman, who knew everything there was to know about the Wicklow Mountains. By the end of the day, when the van dropped her off at the B&B, Keira’s head was still spinning with everything she had learned, while her body was deliciously sore from the intense hiking. She went straight to her room to rest before dinner.

After dinner, she read before going to sleep, which was an old habit of hers. Keira loved reading all kinds of books but she had recently discovered erotica. In the past, she used to think these kinds of books weren’t worth her time because they didn’t have literary value. She was surprised to learn there were actually good authors writing hot, kinky stories and that there were well-known writers, who published erotica under pen names, to avoid public criticism or in order not to antagonize their own regular readers.

She finished the steamy short-story and went to sleep hoping Declan would stay out of her thoughts. She wasn’t that lucky. He haunted her dreams again and she once more woke up with a start, out of breath and trembling with yet another powerful sexual release.

“Seriously?!” she said aloud, as she got out of bed and stumbled across the room to the bathroom. Her legs were wobbly, her throat was dry, and she felt faint as erotic images popped up in her head.

She splashed her face with cold water, returned to the room, and sat on the bed. The alarm clock showed six in the morning. It was too early to get up but she didn’t want to go back to sleep and risk having more disturbing dreams. Besides, she had a long day ahead of her because she was going to drive to Waterford, stopping at Wexford.

She went downstairs for breakfast, and was the only guest in the dining room. She invited Sylvia to sit down with her to keep her company.

“I’ll miss you and John, you know? I had a wonderful time here.”

“You’re very kind, my child, but if I can be honest with you, you don’t seem like you had a good time at all. You’ve got a shadow darkening your face. It’s so sad to see that.”

“Don’t worry, my friend. I’ll be just fine.”

They talked about trivial stuff as Keira finished her meal.

Only when she returned to her room, did Keira remember she hadn’t turned her phone back on since the night Declan called, two nights before. She hurriedly turned it on again to find out there were many missed calls. Two from her parents, one from her sister, and seven from Declan. She rolled her eyes and played the voice messages.

“Hey, honey. How are you doing? We haven’t heard from you since you told us the concert had been canceled. Are you feeling any better? How is the road trip going? Call us when you have a chance. Your father and I worry about you, Keira. Drive safely! Bye, sweetie.”

She smiled as she listened to her mother’s voice. She considered calling home, but remembered it was too early to call her family in Boston. Ireland was five hours ahead so she decided she would call them when she got to Waterford.

The next message was from her sister, “Hey, Keira. I called just to check up on you but I guess you must be sleeping. It’s late in Ireland. You should be out having fun and getting hammered with a couple of new friends. That was the plan, remember? Having a blast?” her sister laughed before adding. “Anyway, call me! Tell me you’ve met a handsome Irishman who’s swept you off your feet. Or just call me because I miss you, little brat. Bye.”

She smiled at her sister’s good mood. She had always wished to be more like her in that aspect,
Who am I kidding? I’ve always wanted to be more like her – end of story
.

Keira loved her sister deeply, but she had always felt a little intimidated by Megan’s beauty and independency. Now, she wished Megan were there to help her, listen to her and give some advice. She was great at all that.

There were no more voice messages. She frowned, then, found out Declan had sent her a text message, instead. Reading it, Keira felt that familiar feeling as her stomach summersaulted inside her. She could be stubborn but she had always taken great pride in her ability to be fair,
I have to agree with him I didn’t give him a chance to explain himself.

Her inner self returned, with a vengeance, telling her she didn’t let him explain anything because she was afraid he’d convince her to change her mind.
Judging from your recent dreams, you can’t trust yourself where Declan is concerned. If you let him talk you into forgiving him, you’ll open up yourself to more pain
.

Keira hesitated and almost gave in to that annoying version of Jiminy Cricket inside her head. Checking her watch, she knew it was around two in the morning in Boston. She decided to call Megan because her sister rarely went to sleep early. She picked up before the third ring.

“Hey, little sis. What’s up?”

“Not much, big sis. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“At two in the morning? Yeah, right! What’s wrong?”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong, Megan,” she heard her sister sighing loudly.

“Keira, you know I hate it when you do that. It is obvious there’s something bothering you, otherwise you wouldn’t call me at this time of night. So, spill it out!”

She took a deep breath and told her older sister all about Declan – how they had met, how they had hooked up in her room in Dublin, what she had seen the next morning, their last phone call, his text messages and the sensual dreams - everything.

“How do you feel about him, Keira?”

“I don’t know, Megan.”

“Bullshit! Listen, you’ve got be honest with yourself, at least. Think about it. If he were just another guy, would you be that annoyed? Would you feel so sad because of a potential betrayal? Would you have let him under your skin like that?”

“Potential betrayal? How do you mean?”

“Honey, you saw what you saw, but you have no idea who the woman is or what kind of relationship they have – if they have any.”

“Oh, so people now go kissing and hugging total strangers in public. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Don’t twist my words, little brat. And don’t lash out at me. You’ve asked my opinion, I’ve given you that. I’m sorry if you don’t like what you hear. You can’t be sure of anything until he tells you what happened in that coffee shop.”

“You’re right, sis. I’m sorry. How can I be sure he’s going to tell me the truth, though?” she asked her sister, unable to hide a hint of panic in her voice.

“You can’t, Keira. Until you know him better, you can’t be sure of anything. That’s true for any new relationship – friends or lovers. You’re not that naïve, are you?”

“I hate to admit it, but you know me better than myself,” she muttered.

“Don’t whine and pout, little one. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself, that’s all,” Megan laughed before adding in a very serious tone. “Keira, I do know you and that’s why I trust your instincts and good sense. But, when the heart is in charge, things can get very complicated. We can make very stupid decisions. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I will, Megan, don’t worry.”

“Call me if you need anything, all right?”

“Will do. Go to sleep, now. It’s late. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

Keira checked the time and thought about calling Declan before she left Wicklow; but, she decided she’d better get going, if she wanted to spend some time driving around Wexford and seeing the sights, before continuing to Waterford. She’d call Declan when she got to there. That would give her time to mull things over, including her sister’s advice.

* * * *

The trip from Wicklow to Wexford was quite an easy one. She did a little sightseeing around town before finding a nice pub to have lunch. Her grandfather used to talk about Wexford all the time because her great-grandmother was born somewhere near it, in a small village called Kilmore. Keira found the little town and drove around its narrow streets, trying to picture what it looked like over a hundred years ago.

Leaving Kilmore, she headed towards Waterford. The trip shouldn’t have taken much more than one hour; but, the car broke down. She was barely able to pull over, by the side of the road, before the car stopped moving. Calling the rental company was impossible because there was no cell phone service. There were no houses or stores nearby, either.

She got out of the car, trying to see further up or down the road, to find out there wasn’t much around her for miles. She worried when she couldn’t remember when she had last seen any sign of civilization along the way. She didn’t know if she would find help walking back and she had no idea what lay ahead. A couple of cars passed by, but she was afraid of hailing one. She had watched too many scary films to trust strangers driving on semi-remote roads.

For lack of a better alternative, she decided to walk up the road, try to find a spot where her phone would have service, and call the rental car company’s emergency number. After walking for over ten minutes, her phone was still dead and the sun hid behind heavy clouds. Afternoon was slowly turning into evening. In no time, thin tendrils of fog appeared around her, enveloping her and hiding the landscape behind white curtains. She felt the first signs of panic kicking in, when a car pulled over behind her.

When the driver turned it off, she glanced over her shoulder and saw a couple inside a dark pickup truck. She stopped walking and turned around when the door opened. The woman, in her mid-fifties, climbed out from the passenger seat and stopped beside the car, as if she were afraid of Keira, as well.

That should be a good sign. If they meant to hurt me, she would be more forward. Right?

“Is the white car back there yours, child? Do you need a lift somewhere?”

“It broke down, but it’s a rental. I meant to call the company’s emergency number,” she pointed to her cell phone. “But I can’t get service. I was walking up the road trying to find a better spot to make the call.”

The woman smiled and her features relaxed, “I’m afraid you won’t get cell service for the next ten miles or so. I’m Mary Wilkinson, by the way. That’s Ted, my husband. We can give you a ride to our farm, if you’d like. It isn’t far. You can use the landline there to call the rental company.”

Keira hesitated thinking that it might not be a good idea to get inside a stranger’s car in the middle of nowhere when evening was coming down fast. On the other hand, walking aimlessly in the dark seemed a much worse option.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wilkinson,” she sighed in relief, and walked towards the truck.

She climbed inside it after the woman. In less than five minutes, they arrived at the farm. She was impressed by the big stone building that seemed to have endured centuries of bad weather. It was a very beautiful house and she finally relaxed when she saw the place was in good shape and there were other people working there.

They entered the house through the backdoor, which opened to the kitchen, and Mary took her to a small den. A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace and an old-fashioned telephone sat on a side table, by a large window, overlooking a beautifully designed rose garden.

“You have a wonderful home, Mrs. Wilkinson.”

“Thank you. There’s the phone, Keira. I’ll give me some privacy,” she turned away and went out leaving the door ajar.

Not wanting to abuse the Wilkinsons’ hospitality, Keira phoned the rental company, told them what had happened, and gave them the address to farm. They promised to send a tow truck to pick the car in under thirty minutes.

“The tow truck driver will take you to your final destination, miss. Where were you heading?”

“Waterford.”

“Are you staying at a hotel there?”

“Yes, St. Joseph’s B&B.”

“Very well, miss. Tomorrow morning you can get a new car at our office in Waterford.”

“Thank you. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Actually, the truck arrived in a little over forty minutes, but her car was already in tow. The driver pulled over in front of the Wilkinsons’ house and the driver climbed off to greet her. He looked young, not much older than Keira, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“You must be the damsel in distress. I’m your knight in shining armor, milady, but you can call me Paul O’Hallon,” he walked towards her with a big smile on his face and his hand out to shake hers.

Keira didn’t know why she felt an impulse to ignore it but she wouldn’t be so rude to a stranger.

“Hello, Paul. I’m Keira Ashe,” she shook his hand briefly and stepped back when he came to stand too close to her. “Can you drop me off at St. Joseph’s B&B in Waterford?”

Even though Keira had already arranged that with the car rental company, for some reason, she wanted the Wilkinsons to know where he was taking her.

“My pleasure, milady,” he answered, bowing and winking at her.

He opened the passenger door for her and Keira turned to the Wilkinsons, “Thank you, again for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it, Keira.”

“Have a safe trip,” Mrs. Wilkinson added.