The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,78
over a cliff. Praying that she hadn’t underestimated Dermot, she drew the horse to a halt after turning off the narrow path she’d followed out a village she never learned the name of. She suspected they were near Arklow, but she wasn’t certain. She only knew she was somewhere in County Wicklow, and she was a long way from her home in County Antrim.
Never fully recovered from the bone jarring cold that morning, Moira huddled out of the wind. She urged the horse to lie down and used the steed’s enormous body to buffer her. She thought about being warm again and wrapped in Kyle’s plaid, or better yet, his arms. It took little time for the physically and mentally exhausted Moira to fall into a deep sleep. When her eyes fluttered open, she realized she’d slept until close to midday. In a panic that Dermot might search for her on foot or find horses, she urged her mount to rise. She prayed to the Virgin Mary in thanksgiving that no one stumbled upon her while she slumbered and that her horse hadn’t run away. Guiding the horse, Moira returned to the country lane she’d been following. As she sheltered her eyes from the bright sun, she realized the path had drawn her away from the coast. She saw nothing to the east but an open expanse of grassland. She had no idea how far from the sea she’d strayed.
Mounting the horse, Moira continued in the direction she presumed was still north, not entirely sure since the sun was at its zenith by the time she set off. She wondered if she would encounter any travelers or tinkers along the road, or even a village where she could get her bearings and ask for directions. She and her steed plodded along, no longer racing away for danger. Moira wanted to conserve her horse’s energy lest she had to spur him into a gallop to avoid any threat. By midafternoon, Moira was once more struggling to stay awake. Her time in the water and the cave, along with the fear that accompanied her since the O’Malleys’ attack, had sapped the hardiness she’d always possessed. When she found a stream, she decided it was time for both woman and beast to rest. She dug in the sack for a chunk of bread, disappointed to find it was already rock hard. She couldn’t even feed it to the horse. She nibbled on the cheese as she gave the horse the apples. Once they’d both eaten, she wandered down to the water, her horse eager for a drink.
As Moira kneeled alongside the brook, she inhaled the perfumed scent of honeysuckles. It was a smell from her childhood. Her mother had taught her how to pick the blossoms and carefully pull the stem free to release the nectar. Her mother told her about the superstition that those who wore honeysuckle would dream of their true love. The memory collided in her mind with an image of Kyle as he sat beside her in the dinghy, how he’d sheltered her from the wind. She pictured how their bodies moved in synchronicity. Her heart ached for the freedom she felt with him, even when he asserted control. She wondered if Kyle was a man who she could grow to love. The thought brought a disquieting feeling of peace and fear. As she recalled that Kyle sailed away from the cove without her, she resigned herself to Kyle not falling in love with her.
If he won’t reciprocate my feelings, why the hell am I chasing him down? Why aren’t I headed in the opposite direction and trying to reach the O’Driscolls? What are you hoping to accomplish? Another tumble in his bed? Rejection? Because you’re a daft fool who still has hope. You hope he’ll be looking for you. You hope he’ll be happy to see you. You hope he’ll want you back aboard his ship.
If he doesn’t want me, maybe he’ll be decent enough to take me to the O’Driscolls or even Barra. At the very least, he could help me secure passage to Baltimore. And if he won’t, Wicklow is still closer than riding through O’Malley territory to get to the O’Driscolls. You only got separated from him yesterday morning. Go to the town, see what there is to see, then decide.
With a plan in place and a honeysuckle tucked behind her ear, Moira rose from the stream bank just as her horse released a pained