***
David and Sarah arrived at Donovan’s community late in the afternoon. A skinned rabbit was carefully wrapped and stashed in a hamper sitting on Sarah’s knee. Every time Sarah came to the camp she was surprised at how much had been built to make it the little bustling community that it was.
The first person she saw was Fiona Donovan. “Hey, Fi,” Sarah said, hopping down from the cart. “Brought ya a bunny for your crock pot.”
“Sure, I’ll never understand your American humor,” Fiona said, taking the meat from her and giving her a hug.
“John in shouting distance?” Sarah asked, looking around the settlement. A large campfire anchored the middle of the camp, with recently constructed huts, tents and bedrolls fanning out around it.
“Oh, he’s around here somewhere,” Fiona said. “Good afternoon to you, David,” she said, as David jumped down from the cart seat. “You’ll be wanting to put the animals up in the barn. Just leave the cart where it is.”
David unharnessed the pony and led him away from the center of camp. Fiona and Sarah walked over to the large black pot hanging from a hook over the fire ringed in stones.
“Mmm-mm. Smells good.” Sarah peered in the pot.
“If you lived here,” Fiona said, leaning over to pick up a steaming kettle of water, “you’d eat with us every night.”
“We’re doing fine over there.”
“Who said you weren’t?” Fiona said, pouring boiling water into a large, chipped teapot. “It’s not just about protection or getting enough to eat. It’s about fellowship, Sarah.”
“I know, and I agree with you.” Sarah continued to crane her neck, searching.
Fiona handed her a cup of tea.
“Hey, Mom. Looking for me?”
Sarah turned to see John who had materialized at her elbow. She had recently learned not to hug him—at least not in public. Her smile dissolved when she looked more closely at him. “John, what happened to you?” She reached out to him.
“Nothing happened to me,” he said, pulling away from her grasp. "Stop it."
His eyes were red and his face tear-streaked. Sarah knew it took a lot to get tears from her boy. She looked at Fiona and was rewarded with a hasty glance away. “What happened, Fi?”
“Nothing, Mom,” John said. “Why can’t you leave it alone?” He turned on his heel and bolted away from her.
Sarah watched him go, her mouth open, then turned back to her friend. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“Not if the lad doesn’t want me to. Drink your tea.”
Sarah turned in the direction John had gone and forced herself to let it go. He was all in one piece. That was the main thing. Whatever had happened, he didn’t want to share it with her. She had to admit that had started to happen more and more. On top of everything else, she thought miserably, I’m losing my little boy, too.
She sipped her tea, letting the heat slip down her throat and soothe her. A young woman approached and spooned up a bowl of soup. Sarah couldn’t help notice how outlandish the woman, Caitlin’s, outfit was. Dressed in skintight leggings with a low-cut top, she looked like she was dressed for a night of clubbing, not eating stew by a campfire. The girl made a dramatic show of looking at Sarah from head to toe before sneering and turning away.
“What the heck is her problem?”
Fiona sighed. “Well, Caitlin is a special case, there’s no mistake. But still, you can’t be too surprised not to have people waving flags when you show up, what with you so standoffish and all.”
“Standoffish? Are you serious?”
“Sarah, we’ve talked about this before. You and your David setting up in Deidre and Seamus’s old cottage far outside our walls—”
“First, Fiona, you don’t have walls, and second, you know we took their cottage because it’s hidden from the road. We’re safer there.”
“There’s nothing safer than numbers,” a voice boomed out, making Sarah spill her tea on her jeans. Mike Donovan definitely had a big way about him, not the least of which was his voice. Using it now, while he was still a good twenty yards away, her first thought was incredulity that he had heard enough of their conversation to enter into it.
“Hey, Mike,” she said. “Still banging on that drum, are you?”
“Sure, and I’ll be banging on it until you and David come to your senses and move out of the McClenny place and over here with us.”
Mike squatted down next to the two women and Sarah couldn’t help but think it wasn’t an easy feat with his long legs. “You doing alright, Sarah?” His eyes pierced hers in anything but a casual inquiry and his directness made Sarah catch her breath.
“We’re doing good, Mike,” she said, smiling at him. “We’re hanging in there.”
The look he gave her said that was not the question he had asked. Before she had the chance to divert him along safer lines, a commotion behind him in the direction of the stables did it for her. She looked past him to see David and John walking quickly toward them. John was trying to talk to David and was running along beside him. David was walking, his chin high and confrontational, his fists clenched at his sides,
“I want a word with you, Donovan,” he said abruptly as he approached the group.
Mike stood up slowly and turned to face him. Sarah saw him rest his hands on his hips in a gesture of calm and insouciance. She stood up too.
“Woodson,” Mike said calmly.
“It’s none of your business,” John said hotly to his father. “It’s my business and I’ve taken care of it.”
David ignored him, his eyes drilling into Mike Donovan. “Some of the guys at the stable mentioned to me that you beat my son today?”
Sarah gasped and couldn’t help looking at Mike and then John.
“It’s none of your business!” John said, jerking his father by the sleeve to get his attention. “I screwed up.”
“I asked you a question, Donovan,” David said, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“That’s right,” Mike said. “John knows the rules. He broke ‘em. He was punished for it.”
“You…you struck him?” Sarah asked, looking at John with the streaks of dirty tears down his face.
Mike turned to her. “I gave him a hiding, same as I’d do to anyone if through horseplay and uncaring they deprived the community out of hard-earned food.” He turned back to David. “You think this is a game, Woodson? You think we’re camping out here? This is life and death, man.”
“You arrogant bastard,” David said. “You got your own private dictatorship here, don’t you? Donovan’s Kingdom.”
“No, Dad,” John said walking over to Mike and standing in front of him. “It’s not like that. I was wrong. It’s the rule. We gotta have rules. Especially now.”
Sarah gritted her teeth and took a long breath to keep control of her emotions, but she saw David lose his own as his face contorted into a mask of fury and intent.
Just when she knew he was about to launch himself at Mike, the earth rumbled beneath their feet and a roar of thunderous noise bombarded the camp, building to an excruciating pitch until the sound obliterated everything.
Click here to see what happens to Mike, Sarah and David in Going Gone, Book 2 of the Irish End Games Series. Or if you want to save a bundle on the next two books in the series, go here for The 1st Three books at a serious discount.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Kiernan-Lewis lives in Nocatee, Florida and writes about horses, France, mysteries and romance. Like many indie authors, Susan depends on the reviews and word of mouth referrals of her readers. If you enjoyed Free Falling, please consider leaving a review saying so on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or Goodreads.com.
Check out Susan’s website at susankiernanlewis.com and feel free to contact her at [email protected].
##
riends
Free Falling, Book 1 of the Irish End Games Page 30
