When she’d asked her father what happened to the boy—“Did he move away?”—Angus didn’t seem to understand or remember. No one did. Like so many childhood friends he’d simply disappeared.
She tucked a wayward strand of curly red hair back behind her ear. This walk down memory lane wasn’t something she allowed herself much anymore. It tore at the fabric of her soul, this missing him and the connection they’d shared until her early teens. Had their connection proved to be all in her head?
It couldn’t have been all her imagination. She’d loved him, and the times they spent together here. Where was he? What had become of him? One thing was for sure, she’d never found anyone who could ever replace him.
She eyed the property, ready to get on with planting fairy charms.
One live oak tree stood as tall as a dinosaur, and it looked like one to Abby, with its elephant-skinned bark and elegant low-sweeping branches. It had grown up beside a large flat rock where Abby held outdoor tea parties as a little girl, where she and her imaginary boyfriend would picnic.
Decorated by Mother Nature with Spanish moss and wild ferns, the tree was a beautiful thing to behold. Mighty, it stood two-hundred feet high, sported a seven-foot diameter trunk and branched out with a canopy that offered shade over the property. Abby loved that tree. It was also exactly where the fairy door belonged. One side of the live oak had a cave-like opening they’d played in when she was small, and if there were fairies anywhere to be found in the world, that’s where they’d come to cross over.
The afternoon had gotten away from her and twilight loomed, so Abby took the charms and strode across the yard to the old oak. Her imagination ran wild with thoughts of fairies dancing in the wooded area, fireflies though they might have been. She longed to see them again, longed for a time when she had the unfettered mind of child, when her world revolved around her parents, when she was safe and loved, and happy.
She approached the old live oak and placed the miniature fairy door at the base of the tree, just so. Next, she settled one of the delicate little chairs beside it. Now the bench, and the remaining two chairs belong on the other side, on the old rock. She walked around the tree, set up the fancy little charms in an inviting arrangement, squeezed her eyes shut and asked a mighty question of the universe and whatever power imagination truly held within the world. She asked for hope, peace, and some way to solve this mess with her father’s bar, and her home.
“Please, little fairies, I need all the luck you can lend me today. I’m inviting you back to play. Please come back home and show me what to do.”
A mighty wind kicked up and swirled through the branches of the grand old oak, fluttering her hair with its force. Spanish moss blew wild in the gusts, like silvery gray curtains in an open window. Abby opened her eyes then frowned, surprised. Clearly, the stress of it all had finally taken its toll. The fairy charms vibrated and glowed with brilliant color, and a leprechaun dressed in a Kelly Green suit, with a felt top hat and pointed shoes, stood waiting on the other side of the tree. A radiant smile lit his face.
Abby gasped, stepped back, and scurried around the oak toward the safety of the house. Then she shrieked. Her world closed in around her. Her heart hitched and her brain screamed foul. Her knees chose that moment to give way, and she collapsed into a heap at the base of the tree.
Chapter 2
MICHAEL MCKNIGHT HEARD Abby’s plea, felt the waves of magic radiating out to him from the fairy charms she’d acquired, and the instant she asked and put that door at the base of the grand live oak he bent time and space to get to her. Banished from his beloved Savannah for the last ten years for the misuse of his magic—and for hoarding gold—he had spent a lifetime apart from her, one that had literally been a living hell.
But I’ve paid my debt, and nothing will keep me from her now.
She rounded the tree, screamed when she saw him, and dropped in her tracks.
Panic seized him. He tossed away his tiny green hat and dove for her, catching her head in his small arms before she hit the dirt. She’d crashed. Totally passed out. Dusted the fallen leaves with her golden-red locks. Good God, she’s not breathing!
“Abby? Abby! Wake up, Abby!” His frantic voice filled the woods. He’d scared the precious thing to death. “What have I done? Damn it, Abby, don’t do this to me! Come on, sweetheart, wake up!” No. He couldn’t lose her now that she’d called for him. “Please! Abby, come back to me!”
Getting caught by a human was end-game for any leprechaun, but Michael wanted her to catch him. He’d loved her since they were children, and sometimes he thought he’d dreamed her into life. She’d never recognize him now—penance for his sins included the curse of living in this ridiculously tiny body with the green felt hat and shoes. But he didn’t care. Whatever she needed, he’d be sure to see she got. If he could. There were limits to magic, of course.
He shook her, his chest crushing in on itself as he willed her awake. Then a breath escaped her lips and she gasped, and Michael froze.
“Praise God Almighty, and thanks to the fairy king, she’s alive.”
His eyes roved every inch of her, seeking injuries. His trembling hands felt her scalp and neck. No bumps. No blood. The tension in his chest eased. She’d merely fainted at the sight of him. That could be good or bad. He chose to go with good.
“Ah, lass, you’re overcome with the sight of me.” He stared at her and smiled, hugged her close in his arms and drew in a deep breath. He cradled her head, her angelic face graced by those waving locks of long ginger hair. And freckles. Everywhere. Michael chuckled. My lassie, Irish through and through.
He reached out and reverently touched her face. When they’d played together as teens he’d wanted to kiss her, but never worked up the nerve. Now he pulled her close and drew in a breath. Peaches and cream. She smelled like heaven. Her ample chest rose and fell underneath a navy blouse that set off the color of her porcelain skin and hundreds—no, thousands—of freckles. Long legs stretched out from underneath her sleeping frame. She’d grown up during the years he was kept away, and she’d grown into a beauty.
He peeked down the length of those denim-covered legs, and his face blew wide with a smile when he saw her bare feet. A work of art, her toes were painted red and perfectly pedicured. The shoes she wore lay askew from her fall, and he scrambled over to assess them. Professional curiosity. One of the heels had snapped clean off.
His face fell. Three-inch heels? No wonder she’d fallen. Who wore such beautiful things outside to plant fairy charms? But his Abigail had always fancied her shoes, and he’d yearned to make her a pair for well over a decade.
He inspected her feet. The arch was perfect, her toes a wonder, and her bare feet drew him in. A desire to give her a foot rub almost overcame him, but he forced his eyes back up her body to her face. To her lips. One simple kiss and he would die a happy man. He’d lived for this, watching her, using his magic and gold to pay the fairies to dance for her when they were both so young….
He took his chance while she lay there unaware. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers and stole his kiss. She stirred. Unable to control himself, Michael kissed her again. Then he eased back as her red-blonde lashes fluttered open to reveal sapphire eyes. His heart raced as for a second he glimpsed his future, and that future was good.
A future with his one and only.
Then Abby’s eyes flew wide, she screamed and seized him in her hands.
†††
Abby
“For the love of God, you’re a leprechaun!”
Folklore about these little men swam in Abby’s clouded head as she reared up, the creature’s lapels in her grasp. Leprechauns were a sort of fairy without wings. But also… “Gold! Good God! Leprechauns are magic fairies who own gold!”
He narrowed his emerald green eyes at her. “That’s the best you can do?”
“What?” She couldn’t believe she’d caught him.
“Gold. That’s all you got? Is that t
he only thing you know about us?”
Abby cocked her head but didn’t take her eyes or hands off the creature. Weren’t they supposed to be ugly little old men with canes and a penchant for evil? She moved in closer and inspected him. Definitely not ugly. Handsome, in a way, if a good deal smaller than herself. He looked about four feet tall. More like a dwarf.
A smile lit her eyes. “You’re tall for a leprechaun.”
He leered at her. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Michael McKnight…the Tall.” He winked.
The bitterness in his comment surprised her. Apparently leprechauns were sensitive about their size. Who knew?
She opened her mouth to speak but found herself mute. Michael McKnight didn’t look old, maybe in his late twenties. He had green eyes that sparkled with a color she’d seen somewhere before—maybe in the depths of the ocean? Almost emerald, with flecks of gold, they drew her in.
His hair hung long, a shock of red-blonde locks like hers. Coarse, untamable and thick… She reached out and touched it, curious about the texture. He tried to pull away, his eyes wide, and under her hands firm muscles rippled. She blinked her eyes to clear them while her tummy responded with a strange flutter. Was that attraction? Her leprechaun was seriously buff.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and stared into the ocean of Michael’s eyes for a second too long. A familiar sensation flooded her—had she seen him somewhere before? His expression softened with recognition, and he drew in a breath, flaring his nostrils. Then he put his hand on her arm and tried to wiggle free. “Not so tight.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. Oh, no. He wasn’t going anywhere. “You owe me three wishes, Leprechaun.”
His mouth fell open, and an expression of annoyance clouded his face. “Let me guess. You want my pot of gold.”
A smile pulled at the edges of her lips. Was that what everyone who caught a leprechaun wished for? It certainly would solve a lot of her problems.
He drew in another sigh and searched the far-off woods with his eyes. “Go ahead. Ask away.” The resignation in his voice only spiked her curiosity.
“It’s true, I need money. I…I…”
He leaned closer and peered into her eyes. “Go on. Tell me your story, Abby.”
She knitted her brows and chewed on her bottom lip. “How do you know my name?”
His expression brightened considerably. “Is that one of your wishes? To know how I know your name?”
Curiosity flared, but she held her tongue. He seemed to want to tell her, but panic raced through Abby’s mind and she shook her head. Just state your three wishes. They’re known for their trickery. She refused to let him cheat her out of what she really needed.
“State them.”
“Huh?”
He averted his eyes, like he didn’t have time for all this. “Your wishes. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Disappointment resonated in his voice.
Surprising herself she blurted, “I want to share the company of my one true love.”
The leprechaun rolled his eyes. “Don’t we all.”
Abby narrowed her eyes. Michael McKnight the Tall’s mocking tone she could do without. Then he leaned close. Passion glimmered in his eyes, and she sensed it rippling off him—or was she imagining things again? She pulled back, shook her head, and got down to business.
“I need enough money to save my property and my dad’s bar.”
“That’s two things,” he replied.
“No, it’s one wish that covers the financing of two things.”
He closed his eyes and tapped his foot before nodding. “I’ll concede you phrased that wish acceptably.”
She stood up and crossed her arms, relieved when he didn’t disappear.
He cocked his head and spread one of his arms wide. “What happened to your dad? Why is your property in danger? Didn’t you inherit everything from him, lass? He had no wee fortune.”
Abby’s face burned, and she clutched her arms close to her body. “It’s all gone. All the money he left me is spent. The bank wants the deeds because I can’t pay what I owe. Finnegan the resident banker offered me a marriage of convenience…but that’d still be my loss. He’s gonna take the property one way or another.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “Do you love him, this banker?”
“Hell. No. He’s been married four times. He cheats women out of their property then cheats on them. He’s the worst sort to get involved with. Yet it happens over and over. Somebody needs to stop him.”
A strange smile blasted the leprechaun’s face. He tucked his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, shifted his weight back and forth from foot-to-foot. Abby crinkled her brows at the odd little dance and his smile. A wisp of memory competed for her attention, but she just couldn’t grasp it.
The leprechaun lifted a small hand, palm up and out. “What’s your last wish, Abby?”
She drew in a deep breath and let a smile ripple across her face. “I want to watch the fairies dancing here again, Michael. I believe now that they were real. When they were here, I was happy. Their magic gave me a sense of wholeness and goodness in my life.”
He shook his head and pulled away, threw up a dismissive hand. “It can’t be done.”
She reared back, shocked. “That’s my third wish and you’ll grant it. You have to. All three of them!”
“I can no more grant that wish than I can show you your true love, Abby.”
“But…you have to.” Her chin quivered at his refusal. “There are some things in this world you just don’t mess with. I caught you. You’re honor bound to grant them.”
Michael puffed his chest up at her and stuck a finger up into her face. “Your wishes are ridiculous, lass.”
Blood burned her cheeks again. This was just great. She’d caught a freaking leprechaun and she still wasn’t going to get her heart’s desire? What kind of terrible luck did the O’Malley’s have, anyway?
The leprechaun’s lips parted. Concern flared through his eyes and he held up his hand. “Wait! I dinnae mean to make you cry, lass. That’s the last thing I’d ever want. I’ll grant your second wish right away.” He dipped into his vest pocket and retrieved an emerald-green pouch made of velvet. Handing it over he said, “There’s your gold.”
She reached out and took it. Heavy coins bulged through the softness of the bag. Could this really be happening?
The leprechaun planted his hands on his hips. “Never let it be said Michael McKnight refuses to pay a debt or causes tears of grief from a beautiful lass.”
Abby flushed and wagged her index finger at him, confused. “And what about my other two wishes, Michael McKnight?”
He sighed and glared up at her. “Your one true love and a yard full of fairies?”
She nodded despite his rudeness.
He threw an arm in the air, flourished it wide and proceeded to yell, “Most people would wish to be a millionaire! Never have to work again a day in their lives. Don’t you want to live the life of a queen? Maybe own a Lamborghini or such? What’s wrong with you? You want the impossible, Abigail O’Malley.”
She planted her fists on her hips and yelled right back. “All ill-advised luxuries. Work is what makes us happy. What I want is to labor at what I love, and I want someone I can trust to share it with me. That’s all. Why is it so damned impossible?”
He turned and stalked away. “I need a couple of days to work on it.”
“I suggest you get busy, Michael the Tall,” she yelled. “I’m not waiting forever!”
He’d already disappeared.
Abby scooped up her ruined shoes, fingered the coins in her hands and stomped back off toward the house. As she did, she teared up again. She’d certainly hit a nerve with the little bastard. Maybe he was right. Maybe she’d never get everything she wanted, and she’d just wasted the chance of a lifetime.
Chapter 3
MICHAEL’S LIPS STUNG from the kisses he’d stolen from Abby. But, now he was in a fine fix.
There was only one thing left to do. He swung open the fairy door and strode through it to find his destiny.
The maze of hidden magic corridors was familiar, and Michael chose the third branch to the right and ran like hell. Visions of his childhood days with Abby swam through his mind. Picnics. The day they counted the trees. Countless evenings together on the lawn watching the fairies dance. The day he’d punched that bully in the nose for stalking her at the bus stop. If fairies dancing on her lawn was what she wanted, he was gonna get her just that, no matter what it cost. He just wished she’d asked for something easier.
He pulled up short as he approached the door to the royal fairy court. A gatekeeper stood waiting for him, blocking his access. The heavily armed fairy stood at attention, and it looked like he wasn’t interested in conversation.
The guard pointed back from whence Michael came. “You’ve got no business here, leprechaun. Leave now and I won’t tell them you’ve come to disgrace this hall.”
Michael found his manners, took off his hat, and dipped his head low in a bow of respect. His long, golden-red hair swayed around him. “I’ve come to see the king, gatekeeper. Will you let me in?”
“You’re not welcome here, miser.”
The word stung. But, truth be told, he’d earned it. Michael had also learned that insults didn’t hurt as much when you recognized your true worth. He wasn’t about to let this pompous ass stop him from getting what he wanted most. “I have a gift for the queen. Surely you wouldn’t deprive her of a subject’s gift?” He reached into his magic vest and brandished a pair of particularly beautiful fairy shoes he’d made.
The gatekeeper eyed them. Four-inch heels, royal purple, dotted with gemstones. They were a gift worthy of the fairy queen, so he reconsidered. “You can leave them here with me. I’ll make certain she gets them.”
Savannah Girl's Three Wishes: A New Adult Fantasy Romance Page 2
