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The roads leading in to Cavan Town boasted a fine collection of young bachelors hying themselves to that gem of a town in the midst of the lakeland county.

They made the journey, not to conduct business, not to shop at market, not to worship.

The men came to pay court to the belle of the county, each hoping to have a single word, a single glance from the object of their universal affection.

Unfortunately for Alice Wheatley, she was not that belle.

Alice hadn’t a particular taste for the attentions of hordes of men at one time.

Her heart belonged to but one man, a certain Isaac Dancy, whom she’d met on the road to Cavan.

He walked the dozen miles around the lakes from his home near Killeshandra every weekend to join the throng of besotted men.

Alice walked nearly as many miles herself, returning to Cavan from her weekday job as a maid of all work for a farm family of very comfortable means.

They’d struck up a conversation and a friendship quicker than a change of weather in autumn.

He’d shown himself intelligent and thoughtful and kind.

They laughed together and smiled together, yet their conversations were known to take serious turns as well.

She knew his worries, and he knew hers. She felt closer to him than any other person on earth.

Even knowing the reasons for his weekly journeys, Alice had fallen quite deeply in love with him.

If her parents had given her a middle name, it likely would have been “Terribly Unlucky.”

Still, as she followed the turn in the road she walked each weekend and approached the spot where Isaac waited for her every Saturday morning, she didn’t regret her lack of luck.

He stood there as usual. Her heart smiled to see him.

Unlucky she might have been, but she had his company twice each week and felt grateful for that.

“Good day to ya, Isaac Dancy.”

“And to you.” He rose from the rock he’d been sitting on. “Have ya noted our fine view this morning? The last bits of autumn color are on the leaves.”

She had noticed it. A fine prospect the lakes offered all the year ’round.

Snow hung on bare branches in the winter.

Buds of green brightened the landscape in spring.

Foliage was lush and plentiful during the summer.

She’d developed a fondness for the road in the two years she’d walked it.

But the past four months, walking with Isaac, she’d hardly noticed the beauty around her.

“How went yer week, Isaac?”

Thus began their usual stroll. He spoke of having finished his harvest and preparing his home and land and animals for the coming winter.

She spoke of her own work and the growing coldness at night, how her tiny closet of a room at the farmhouse hardly kept any of the night air out.

He suggested she might want to begin bringing blankets with her as the seasons changed.

She wondered aloud if the market would yet have apples or if the picking season had entirely ended.

’Twas always that way between them. Conversation came easily. They could speak on anything or nothing and thoroughly enjoy themselves.

In time, she told herself, he would recognize that for the wonderful thing it was. In time, he would give up his courtship of Miss Sophia Kilchrest and move on to higher pastures, as it were.

Sure, he’d been lured like so many others by Miss Kilchrest’s lovely face and fine figure.

He’d been pulled in by her flawless manners and twinkling eyes.

He’d even found a bit of motivation in the dowry she’d bring with her, though, to his credit, he’d not mentioned that but once and even then as an off-hand observation.

And, Alice had noted, having set his mind on the pursuit of such a highly prized treasure, Isaac had taken on a certain single-mindedness where Miss Kilchrest was concerned.

Alice doubted he gave his pursuit much thought of late.

He simply continued because it was a goal he’d worked on so long.

“Do ya plan to keep making this walk after the snows come?” Alice asked, praying and hoping and feeling generally quite desperate that he would.

“I don’t plan to give over the progress I’ve made with Miss Kilchrest, if that’s what ya mean.”

’Twas not in the smallest bit what she meant. But life had taught her men could be terribly thickheaded and a woman had no real choice but to be patient with them.

“Are ya making progress, then?”

Isaac nodded. “She spoke to me quite particularly the last few weekends, though the other men vying for her attention were ready to rip me apart over it.”

“And men enjoy that, do they, the look of violent loathing in the eyes of another man?”

Isaac grinned. “Indeed.”

I will never understand men. Was it the loathing and the sense of victory Isaac liked, or was it the attention from Miss Kilchrest? Surely he was intelligent enough not to court a woman simply out of pride. “And what did ya talk about during this jealousy-inducing conversation with Miss Kilchrest?”

He buttoned his coat against the growing wind as they continued down the road. “She spoke of her friends and fashion and the weather.”

“Fascinating.” Alice only just kept her tone less dry than she felt the comment deserved.

He laughed a little. “She and I aren’t the friends that you and I are. We’ve not endless topics to discuss yet.”

So stop trying to converse with her and start spending more time with me. She’d convince him one day, she swore she would. He’d realize Sophia Kilchrest was not for him. More important, still, he’d realize she absolutely was.

“Can I let ya in on a secret?” he asked.

Alice couldn’t help a smile. He’d shared “secrets” with her before. Sometimes ’twas nothing more than a teasing story, though on a few occasions he’d told her of plans he had for his home and land. He told her personal things, important things, things she felt certain he hadn’t told Miss Kilchrest.

He’d piece it together. He’d realize in time she was his match and not the Belle of Cavan.

“What’s this secret?” she asked.

“This weekend in Cavan,” he said, an earnest excitement in his voice, “I mean to ask Miss Kilchrest if she’ll consider me her exclusive suitor. I mean to see to it we’re on the firm path toward making her my bride.”

With that declaration, Alice Wheatley’s world ended.