Page 67 of The Past

“We’ll go to another country,” he suggested.

I considered that.“We could go to Northern Ireland when I turn eighteen.That’s the legal age there and no permission is needed.”

“None of that matters,” he said solemnly, brushing his thumb over the inside of my wrist.“I’m still asking you to marry me, and we’ll figure something out.”

Tommy then shifted, pulling something from his pocket.My breath hitched as he opened his palm, revealing a small silver ring.It was simple, delicate, with a twisted Celtic knot carved into the band.

“I know it’s not much,” he said, his voice quieter now.“I bought it at the jewelers in town and the shopkeeper said the Celtic knot was a symbol of eternity, and that’s what I want with you.”

“Aye,” I said quietly, staring at the ring he held between his thumb and forefinger.“The pattern has no end and no beginning.Eternity.”

Tommy placed the ring in the palm of his hand and held it out to me.I stared at it, my heart hammering.

This was real.

This wasn’t a dream or a reckless fantasy.

This was Tommy, offering me forever.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as I picked up the ring from his palm.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered.

His breath left him in a rush, relief evident.“Yeah?Because I’ll buy you a big diamond back in Kentucky.”

I looked up at him, my heart swelling.“I don’t want a big diamond.”

A slow, stunned smile spread across his face.“So you’ll marry me?”

I laughed, tears slipping down my cheeks as I nodded.“Aye, Tommy Blackburn.I’ll marry ye.”

He plucked the ring back from my grip and placed it on my left ring finger.It fit perfectly and it felt so natural.It felt… permanent, and solid, and trustworthy.

It represented everything in my life that had been taken away, and this man restored it all with one tiny piece of silver.

Tommy surged toward me across the table, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me right there in the middle of the pub.

The world around us didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered except him, this moment, the promise between us.

We were young.

We had no idea how we were going to make it work.

But as Tommy kissed me, I knew one thing for certain.

I’d never been more sure of anything in my life.

CHAPTER 23

Tommy

The scent ofmetal and motor oil covered the aromas of horses and hay, and I didn’t like it one bit.But farming in any capacity meant you had to rely on motorized equipment, which meant maintenance.

I wiped my hands on an old rag.Rory stood beside me, sleeves rolled up, as he studied the engine.He’d been directing me on how to fix the clogged fuel filter on the old faded red and gray Massey Ferguson tractor.He was patient in his instructions but didn’t lift a finger to help me, declaring that learning by doing was the best way.

He gestured to a small metal canister with a sediment bowl underneath.“See that glass bit there?If there’s dirt in it, she won’t run right.Loosen the top bolt and let’s have a look.”

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