Page 16 of The Wandering Season

Over the next few days in Ireland, Niall took me farther afield from County Mayo on our daily jaunts. The advantage to visiting a country slightly smaller than the state of Indiana was that one could experience an awful lot of it over the course of a week. There was no corner of the country that was an uncomfortably far drive from my perspective as an American living in the West who had been raised on ten-hours-a-day-in-the-car road trips, and Niall seemed fond of driving, so he was glad to follow the winding roads from one end of the country to the other.

I wasn’t sure if he was a skilled enough tour guide to have purposefully selected the most charming routes from town to town, or if Ireland simply was that picturesque, but I found myself able to relax in his company without obsessing over plans for The Kitchen Muse or trying to piece together my visions of Aoife. There hadn’t been another, and I was both glad to be free of them and longing to know what had happened to her.

For the first time in ages, I was able to just be, and it was glorious. We talked endlessly of cooking and travel, books and cinema, and I felt entirely at ease in our moments of silence too.

The one subject we didn’t broach was Caitlin’s suggestion for Niall to accompany me to France. I loved the idea, to be honest. I wasn’t the sort of person who loathed to be by myself—quite the contrary—but to be in the country largely considered the food capital of the world with a like-minded companion sounded far more enjoyable than taking the trip alone. Niall had brought Ireland to life for me, and discovering France together could be an incredible adventure. But no matter how close I tap-danced toward the topic, I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

So, as we went ambling out on the rugged shore in County Kerry, or went for a sumptuous gastro-tour of Kinsale—the foodie capital of Ireland—I kept my mind on the here and now. Enjoying Niall’s presence in my life as a temporary pleasure. Hadn’t it been said that some people who were meant to come into our lives for a short while had the biggest impact? Perhaps Niall was that for me.

Two days before I was scheduled to leave, we spent most of the day in Kilkenny, visiting the Medieval Mile Museum, and we were just finishing our grand tour of their famed castle. The region was breathtaking, and I was ever so glad Niall had brought me here. But as we made our way back to the car park, and back to Blackthorn for the night, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. I was supposed to leave for France, and while it was the stop I was most excited about in many ways, I was dreading the departure. And wrestling with everything that implied. It was silly to think we’d be able to continue any sort of real relationship, no matter how strong a connection we might feel.

What was more, I didn’t want to cheapen the memory of our week together with insincere promises of exchanging texts or emails. Sure, we’d manage it for a few weeks. Perhaps a few months, even. But by the time high season hit at Blackthorn, he’d be consumed with catering to his guests. And I, hopefully, would have clinched a contract with Fairbanks and would be busy as well.

No, there would be more dignity in letting the friendship end when I stepped on the plane in Dublin, moving on to the next leg of the trip, and the next chapter of my life, on my own.

“You’re far away, Miss Stratton.”

Niall nudged me as his car exited onto the street. “Care to tell me what’s on your mind?”

I shook myself. “Sorry, daydreaming again. A bad habit of mine I ought to break while in one of the most gorgeous places on earth.”

Niall kept his eyes on the road, but I could see a glimmer of concern in them. “I find that sometimes sharing your thoughts helps ease the burden. I promise I won’t offer advice unless you want it.”

I weighed his offer but only briefly. Of all the people I could discuss this with, he wasn’t the one I’d want to start with. How would I even start? I think you’re great, but I’d rather not talk to you again after I leave because I will feel awful for weeks when you inevitably stop emailing?

“It’s okay. Just mulling over the same old stuff, really. Nowhere near coming to any good conclusions, either. I’d do better to enjoy myself in the present moment.”

I hoped my tone came off as nonchalant, but that was never my strong suit.

He reached over and squeezed my hand, then dropped it almost as quickly. “I’ve no doubt your future will be a bright one, Veronica. With your skills in the kitchen and the good brain you’ve got in your head, you’ll pave a path for yourself wherever it is you want to go.”

Good. Let him think it was business troubles. Easy to explain and far less personal than the truth.

“I hope you’re right. I know I’ve got some talent and all. To borrow your metaphor, it feels like I have all the paving stones I need to make a path most anywhere I want, but I have to decide how to lay it all out, and most importantly, where that path should lead.”

“You’ve taken my trite metaphor and done well with it. You are Irish, aren’t you? But let us set aside the philosophy for one day. We’ve one more stop before we head back for the night.”

He pulled me across the street and into a shop with Kilkenny Handwrought Silver emblazoned on a small wooden sign. I arched a questioning brow.

“I wanted to give you a keepsake from Ireland, if I might be so bold. I was hoping to find a necklace to compliment the lovely bangle you acquired in Dublin. I thought the matching set might look a treat.”

The displays ranged from simple pendants to the elaborate. Some plain, others encrusted in fine jewels. While some would be affordable pieces for the cash-strapped tourists, others had to be staggeringly expensive.

“Oh, I’m really not a jewelry person.”

I rubbed a hand over the bangle I’d yet to remove since Dublin. “Not all that big on keepsakes really.”

While the latter wasn’t entirely true, I was the kid who mused way too long over what keepsake to lug home from every national park gift shop my parents could be persuaded to let me enter when I was a kid. I’d grown more cautious with my money as an adult and business owner.

“Be that as it may, I’d like to offer you a small token. You’ve brightened my dull January, Miss Stratton, and I’d like you to have a small remembrance of it. As a friend.”

I began to protest, but he held up a hand. “It’s a small thing that will give me pleasure. Consider it payment for my time as your tour guide.”

“That seems incredibly backward. Shouldn’t I be giving you a gift in that case?”

“Your graciously accepting a small offering is gift enough. Now show me what strikes your fancy.”

I shook my head. “No way. This is a gift, and the recipient shouldn’t have anything to do with the choosing of it.”

I’d either insult him by choosing the cheapest item in the case or embarrass myself by inadvertently choosing something too dear.

“A compromise: I’ll make a suggestion or two and you’ll give me your honest opinion.”

He reached out a hand. “Have we an accord?”

I sighed. “Very well.”

He took his time scanning the rows of glass cases, finally lingering over the selection of medallions that were wrought with filigree and various designs of ancient origin. He pointed to a slightly larger one, the size of a fifty-cent piece, toward the back. It was a lovely pattern with a large Celtic cross with a few gold accents to highlight the silverwork. It was a perfect complement to the bracelet.

“That seems like it might suit? I’m no expert on these matters, but to my eyes it would look as nice with a T-shirt as it would a fancy dress.”

“It is lovely, but it’s not necessary,”

I stammered.

Before the words were out of my mouth, he’d summoned over a clerk and asked her to remove it from the case. He clasped it on my neck while the clerk fetched a mirror so I could admire the piece. It sat at the perfect spot on my breastbone and reflected the light beautifully.

“I’ve always liked that style,”

the clerk commented. “Small enough to be tasteful but large enough to be worth noticing.”

Niall produced his wallet. “She’ll wear it from the shop if it isn’t a bother.”

Before I could object, the woman was processing his credit card and handing me the green leatherette gift case it came with. I shouldn’t have paid attention to the total but was glad when it wasn’t exorbitant. Regardless, it was still more than he should have spent.

Back on the street, he stopped to admire the medallion in the daylight. “Not nearly as lovely as the recipient, but it will have to suffice. Thank you for being gracious enough to accept it.”

A trace of melancholy lingered in his eyes. He was sad I was leaving too. I’d been a fun distraction from the January gloom at the very least.

The heat, maddeningly, rose to my cheeks. I should have simply said thank you. Or even expounded on my gratitude for the attentions he’d paid me that week. Instead, I blurted, “Caitlin was right. You should come to France.”

He turned to meet my gaze. “Beg pardon?”

“Come with me. Caitlin says you never take time off. We’ll have fun wandering the markets and dreaming up menus. At least think about it.”

My mind raced to Tadgh, who wanted so desperately to follow his love to America but was bound by honor and duty to his family. Despite the one and three-quarters centuries that separated them, Niall wasn’t all that different.

“Do you really want me to?”

It was his turn to stammer.

“I do.”

I sounded more resolute than I expected. “It could be fun. I’ve had a lovely week traveling with you.”

I let out a shaky breath, hoping he understood what I’d truly meant: I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

He brushed a tendril of hair from my face. “I have as well, Miss Stratton. And Blackthorn will tolerate my absence for a week. For a place so old, my comings and goings are but the scurrying of ants.”

“Really?”

I hadn’t expected such a quick acceptance, and my pulse raced as we stood on the sidewalk, oblivious to passersby.

“As my sister is so fond of saying, ‘Why not?’ I’ve been stuck in the same place for a long while, and a bit of wandering might do me some good.”