Page 55 of The Past

She leaned into my touch for a second before shifting to admire the water.“At breakfast this morning, Da didn’t say a word about Brian.He was in a rush, barely glanced at me before leavin’.I think he assumes everything’s as he planned.”

I sighed, taking her hand in mine.“He’s gonna find out, Fi.Sooner or later.”

She nodded.“I know.I just don’t know what I’ll do when he does.”

I hated the uncertainty in her voice, the way she still held that thread of fear.“We’ll handle it,” I promised.“Together.”

A small smile tugged at her lips.“Aye.No goin’ backward.”

We fell into easy conversation after that, eating apples from her bag as we watched the stream ripple and bugs skim across the surface.At some point, I stretched out on my back, hands tucked behind my head, staring up at the clouds.Fiona lay beside me, propped on her elbow, eyes twinkling.

“So,” she said, her smile soft and I got distracted by that mouth.“Teach me somethin’ ye’d say in Kentucky.”

I raised an eyebrow.“Like what?”

She shrugged.“A phrase.Somethin’ ye’d say back home particular to yer culture.”

I smirked, thinking for a second before saying, “Well, in summer you’ll hear my mom complain it’s hotter than a goat in a pepper patch.”

Fiona giggled.“A goat in a pepper patch?What does that even mean?”

God, I loved the sound of her laugh.Light and carefree, with just enough husky warmth to make my pulse skip.“No clue, but goats will eat anything, including hot peppers if they find their way into a patch.I suppose they’d be on fire after an all-out pepper buffet.”

Fiona laughed until she was in tears.“What’s another one?”

I thought about my parents, my friends, my community.As much as I loved this beautiful green country and the gorgeous Irish lass within it, I loved Kentucky to the depths of my soul.“People will often say ‘If the creek don’t rise.’It means, ‘I’ll do it, so long as nothin’ unexpected gets in the way.’Back home we’ve got creeks that can flood real fast after a heavy rain.If that happens, roads get washed out, and you’re not going anywhere until the water goes down.So when someone says, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, if the creek don’t rise,’ they mean, ‘I’ll be there—unless somethin’ outside my control messes it up.’”

Fiona tilted her head, considering it.“So basically, it’s just a fancy way of sayin’ ‘If all goes well’?”

Grinning, I deepened my drawl in an exaggerated way.“Out where I’m from, that’d be said clear as a bell down in the holler.”

Her forehead crinkles in confusion.“Holler?”Fiona tilted her head.“You mean shout?”

I laughed with gusto.“It’s like you and I speak a different language,” I teased.“Nah, not that kind.A holler’s a little valley where folks live—kind of like a glen.”

“What’s another?”she asked, flopping onto her back beside me.

There were so many but I wanted to hear that laugh again.“If someone’s acting lazy, we say they’re ‘happier than a hog in slop.’”

That did the trick.She laughed fully, shaking her head.“That’s disgusting.”

I chuckled, rolling onto my side to face her.“Come on, say it.”

She wrinkled her nose but humored me and even mimicked my drawl.“I’m happier than a hog in slop right now.”

I laughed.“Perfect.Now say, ‘I reckon.’”

“I reckon,” she repeated, with a fairly realistic Kentucky drawl.

“Now say, ‘I reckon Tommy Blackburn is the most handsome fella I ever did see.’”

She snorted, shoving my shoulder.“I am not sayin’ that.”

I laughed, catching her hand before she could pull it away.Our eyes met, and just like that, the playful moment turned into something else entirely.My fingers curled around hers, my thumb brushing against the inside of her wrist.

“I reckon,” she murmured, her voice suddenly quieter, “that yer somethin’ special, Tommy.”

My throat went dry.“That so?”

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