Page 35 of The Past

I hesitated for a second before speaking, then forced the words out.“Ye should.”

He turned his head to look at me fully, his shimmering eyes searching mine in the dim light.“Then you take me.”

The way he said it—so simple, so sure—sent a shiver down my spine.I knew what he meant, even if he didn’t say it outright.This wasn’t just about Clonmel.It was about freedom, about stepping beyond what was expected of me, even if only for an afternoon.

But could I really let this be something I wasn’t sure I could hold on to?

I swallowed and nodded.“All right.I’ll take ye.That’s what friends are for.”

Tommy shook his head, a smirk on his face.“Not like friends.It would be a date.”

“A date, huh?”

“Yes, a date.”

“Okay, then.”

It pleased me more than it should have—the planning of a date with a handsome boy.A gust of wind rustled the hawthorn branches but the new leaves buffered us well.I trembled, more from the moment than the cold.Tommy noticed and shifted, draping the edge of his coat over my shoulders.

I cleared my throat, focusing back on the trees.“Do ye know about hawthorns?”

He shook his head.“Tell me.”

I traced a finger along the rough bark of the nearest tree.“They’re sacred in Ireland.Some say they belong to the fairies, and if ye cut one down, ye’ll have terrible luck.”I tilted my head, giving him a teasing look.“I wouldn’t test it, if I were ye.”

He held up his hands in surrender.“I’ll leave ’em alone, I promise.”

I smirked, but my voice turned more serious.“People still respect them.Ye’ll see them standing alone in fields, untouched even when the surrounding land is cleared.My grandmother used to say that if ye make a wish beneath a hawthorn tree on the right night, it might just come true.”

“You ever made one?”

I hesitated, then admitted, “Once or twice.”

“Any of ’em come true?”

I thought about that, letting the silence stretch between us.“Not yet.”

He watches me for a moment.“Maybe you weren’t wishing hard enough.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach dip, but I shook my head, shoving the feeling aside.“Or maybe the fairies don’t like me.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the night air.“Nah.I reckon they do.”He reached over, took my hand.“I think both Kentucky and Ireland are beautiful, but your country is so old and there’s so much history and lore.I think that lends to the magic.Tell me more about the sidhe.”

We sat there for a long while, just watching the lights, and I told him stories of magic and supernatural creatures.I told him about the Race for Fionn’s Hand and Legends of Eremon.He listened attentively, asked questions and laughed at the antics of the ancient people.

“I wish I’d had stories like that growing up,” he said, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand.

“They’re meant to be passed down the generations.”

Tommy’s head swiveled my way.“I can see you, sitting on the edge of your children’s beds, telling them… inspiring their imaginations.”

I stared at him, my mind spinning a little.The thought of children and marriage and adulthood had repetitively been something I’d avoided ever since my father had been trying to pawn me off on Brian.But with Tommy… he was the type of man I could see spending my life with.

Except… my father would never let that happen.And besides, Tommy would be leaving to go back to Kentucky.

“You didn’t get in trouble last night coming in late, did you?”he asked, the change in subject a welcome relief.

I shook my head.“Me da was already asleep.”

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