Loving Ireland

by Mac Flynn

  He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry to disappoint, but I tend to take a bath every few years." He looked me over. "American?"

  Every word he said riled me to challenge him. "Born and bred, but don't hold it against me," I proudly replied.

  "Animals are bred," he countered.

  "I was born in a barn," I retorted. "My closest friend was a chicken named Henny Penny." He stared blankly at me not quite sure whether to believe me or not. I changed the subject to the castle, and waved my hand at the place. "Nice place you have here. Early medieval torture chamber?"

  "Fifteenth century, though I do have a dungeon. Would you like to see it?" he asked me.

  I cringed; his tone sounded too eager and I had a feeling he knew how to use all the torture devices down there. "Nope, had my daily dose of dungeon already today. Wouldn't want to stretch my time here out too long, and I'm sure you've got to wash your grandpa's nose." I jerked my thumb at the picture behind me.

  "That's my father," he told me.

  I just traded my shovel in for a backhoe and kept digging myself a bigger hole. "And you're the spitting image of him. How is he these days?"

  His face grew more strained. "Dead for five years."

  My face turned a nice shade of stupid; the backhoe hit rock and told me it was time to abandon the crater. "Oh, well, could be better than. I guess I'll just be leaving, no need to show me out, I know the way."

  He opened his mouth to say something, but I flew out of there and into the sunlight and clean air. I didn't stop flying until I hit the path in the trees, and turned back. The young lord stood out on the circular drive and his head turned this way and that. I slipped into the trees and back to the cottage, where I was a good girl and stayed in my own yard. Lily came back around lunch to pick up some paintings she'd forgotten, and we ate together. She asked me what I'd been doing all day.

  "I went over to the castle and met Lord Crazy-Driver," I told her.

  She gave me a scolding look. "Lord MacKenna, Maggie, and how did you like the castle?"

  "A little broody and the owner even broodier, but it's a nice place. I did have an uncomfortable conversation with Lord What's-His-Name, but I think I held my own. He's such a jerk, and his attitude is even worse away from the wheel."

  Lily dropped her fork and it clattered against her plate. Her mouth slid open and her eyes were wide. "Maggie, you didn't insult the lord, did you?"

  "I did call him musty, and he snuck up on me when I was saying the house looked like a mausoleum," I admitted. The color drained out of Lily's face; I worried she was sick. "Lily, you feeling okay? You don't look so good."

  She flung herself across the table and latched onto my hands. Her eyes caught mine, and her voice was deadly serious. "Please tell me you didn't tell him where you were staying or who you were. Please!"

  I nervously smiled at my terrified friend; I hadn't realized how fond of the lord she was "I kept him confused enough he didn't even know his own name, and he didn't have enough time to ask mine." She slid back with a sigh, but I narrowed my eyes. "Why? You trying to keep me all to myself? That's cheating the world out of a priceless treasure."

  "Maggie, Lord MacKenna is my patron."

  It was my turn to catch flies with my mouth. "Seriously?" I squeaked out. She gravely nodded her head. I sunk in my chair. "So that means-"

  "-that he's the one covering the expenses for the show and bringing the critics to the village," she finished for me. "He also happens to own this cottage and the land, and can toss me out when it pleases him."

  I sunk lower in my chair so my chin rested on the top. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say anything bad to him." She gave me a side-glance of disbelief. "Okay, I did mean to say some of those means things." I was still on the receiving end of her glare, and threw up my arms. "All right, all right, I meant to be as evil as I could be, but I didn't know he was your patron." I paused when a wicked thought came to mind, and leaned forward as a wide grin slid onto my lips. "When you say patron, what kind of perks does he give you?" I slyly asked her.

  Lily blushed and fumed. "N-not that kind!" she bit back.

  I leaned back and shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask before I made designs on his fortune." I frowned, and glanced at her. "He does have a fortune, doesn't he?"

  "He does, and you're not to go near him again. Weren't you just telling me how much you disliked him?" she reminded me.

  I sighed. "You're right, that would put a damper on our relationship, but I think I could snuggle up to a money bag every night."

  Lily rolled her eyes and stood. "Well, I've got to get back to the show, so please try to keep yourself out of trouble," she pleaded.

  I saluted her with my fork in hand. "Will do, commander."

  "And promise me not to go to the castle without me," she added.

  I pretended to be ruffled by her order. "Are you saying I need a chaperon when I'm out in public?"

  "I believe you need one everywhere, but definitely at the castle. Now promise me," she insisted.

  I crossed my chest over my heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die, I'll stay away from the castle."

  "Um, Maggie?" Lily wondered.

  "Yeah?"

  "You just smeared ham grease all over your chest."

  I glanced down and saw the cross I made outlined in ham juice. I sheepishly grinned at her. "Um, by any chance are my clothes dry?"

  "Dry enough to save mine from a fate worse than death," she teased.

  Chapter 3

  Lily left to her show setting, and I took the chance to explore the woods, but stayed far away from the castle. The path I'd taken to the castle was the most used, but there were smaller, narrower ones that branched off to the left and right. I followed one on the left and found myself along the road. That wasn't very exciting, so I made my way back to the main path and came upon a small, elderly man in overalls smoking a pipe on a log. He noticed me coming at the same time I noticed him, and a wide smile spread across his wrinkled face. "A very good afternoon to you, miss," he greeted me without missing a puff on his pipe.

  "Good afternoon," I returned. I tilted my head to one side and gave him a thorough glance; he looked so much like a leprechaun that I wondered if I'd struck gold.

  He raised an eyebrow at my staring. "Something the matter, miss?"

  "You don't happen to have a pot of gold lying around here, do you?" I asked him.

  He chuckled. "And if I did, what would ye do?"

  "Take your pipe and use it as ransom," I replied.

  "Then my pipe will be glad to know Ah don't have so much as a shot-glass worth of gold lying hereabouts," he told me.

  I sighed and shrugged. "Oh well, had to ask." He smiled and patted an empty spot next to him on the log. I plopped down and held out my hand. "The name's Maggie Magee."

  The old man took it and gave me a shake that left my hand numb. He returned what was left of my broken fingers and nodded. "Ya can call me Duffy, Miss Magee."

  "And you can call me Maggie," I insisted.

  "A pleasure to meet you, Maggie. Have you come to live among us?" he asked me.

  I shook my head. "I'm only staying at my friend's cottage for a few weeks."

  The man slowly nodded his head; I could just see the steady cogs in his head turning over. "Ah yes, Lily's cottage. Ah was just on my way there to tend to her pigs and garden."

  I slapped my knee so violently that he jumped. "So that's how she's able to have pigs!" I exclaimed. "I knew she wasn't telling me everything!"

  Duffy put the pipe back in his mouth and chuckled. "Ah see you've got a lot of spirit. Ya not be pulling my leg and are a pixie in disguise, are ye?"

  It was my turn to laugh. "I'm pretty sure I'm just a normal girl with a lot of spirit," I told him. I held out my arms to show their flabbiness. "Besides, does this really look like a pixie's body?"

  He shrugged. "Ah well, I was hoping to see another one this spring, but it seems I'll have to wait a bit longer," Duffy mused with a twinkle in his ey
es.

  That caught my attention. "Another one?" I repeated.

  Duffy glanced around, and then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Aye. Sometimes when I'm tending the garden around the castle I can hear 'em playing about the flowers, and they dance through the woods at night singing their songs."

  I frowned. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

  Duffy chuckled. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he elusively replied. He leaned toward me and tapped the side of his nose. "But it's all about believing in 'em, you see. If'n you don't do that then you've got no hope in the world of seeing 'em."

  "I think I shelved pixies next to Santa Claus a long time ago," I scoffed.

  He sighed and shook his head. "What a pity that is to hear, but it happens to most folk. Ah was just hoping you were different."

  I wasn't sure whether to take this funny little man seriously or chalk him off as one pint shy of an Irishman. He certainly took himself seriously. Duffy groaned and stood. "But I'd best be going to my work. Were you going to the castle again to have another sparring with Lord MacKenna?"

  I cringed; that was one more person who knew I'd verbally assaulted the lord. "You saw me there earlier?"

  He smiled and nodded. "Aye, and I must say that was a fine mess you got yourself into. Rarely have I seen the like of it."

  My lips pursed together. "Thanks," I flatly replied.

  Duffy gave a bow. "A pleasure, Maggie, and a pleasure to be knowing ya."

  "Wait, maybe I can help you with the gardening," I volunteered. "I know some stuff about it."

  He raised an eyebrow. "And what do ya know about it?"

  "Um, weeds bad, flowers good?"

  Duffy laughed; it was a deep, cheerful sound that echoed through the trees. He slapped me on the back and I fell off the log. That guy had a hell of an arm for being so old. "Yer a fine lady, Maggie. Ah hope we'll be seeing more of ya at the castle."

  I wiped the mud off my hands and smiled. "I guess we'll see." I was pretty sure I'd worn out my welcome and the lord's patience on my first visit.

  Duffy led the way back to Lily's cottage and started my training on the fine art of ruthlessly yanking a plant out of the ground with the intent to kill. From the number of weed victims piled up around us I suspected he'd sat more on that log in the woods than in the cottage grass. We were still at it when Lily came home, and she watched us for a while from the front gate. I stopped weeding and scowled up at her. "Weeding isn't a spectator's sport," I told her.

  "But I like watching you work. I haven't seen it happen that often," Lily teased me. I grabbed a glob of mud and tossed it at her; my impeccable aim meant it landed within five yards of her. Lily laughed at my sorry little toss. "You should have been a baseball player."

  "Ha-ha, very funny." I stood and wiped the mud from my pants; they'd need cleaning again.

  Duffy came around back where he'd been tending the pigs and nodded at Lily. "A good evening to you, Lily."

  "Duffy!" she gasped. Her head whipped between Duffy and me. "Does he know...?"

  Duffy chuckled. "Whatever yer worrying about, Lily, ya won't find any harm from old Duffy," he reassured her.

  Lily's shoulders sagged and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for not telling the lord about my friend being here. I don't know what he'd do."

  The old gardener had a twinkle in his eyes when he winked at her. "Ah imagine you couldn't."

  Lily clapped her hands together and smiled at us. "Well, now that I've startled myself enough to last a week, what say you two about supper? Duffy, would you like to stay? We'd be glad to hear some of your stories about the fairy folk."

  "Ah'd be glad to," Duffy accepted.

  When Lily mentioned stories she was underestimating Duffy's stock of ancient lore. He knew all about the local fairies, leprechauns and other wee folk, and when he left after dark my mind buzzed with all the imagination stored in his brain. After waving goodbye to him as he disappeared into the woods, Lily and I sat back down beside the crackling fire. "You wouldn't think from his appearance that he knew so many stories," Lily mused.

  I shrugged. "Maybe it's a scraggly old guy thing. I've heard of sailors knowing a lot of legends," I pointed out. "How long has he lived here, anyway?"

  "All his life. I doubt he's gone more than a hundred miles away from it, too," Lily told me. She yawned and stretched. "But I think I'll get to bed. Before you go to sleep be sure the fire doesn't escape."

  "Will do," I promised her.

  Lily turned off most of the lights when she left, and I sat in partial darkness gazing at the fire. Many of his stories had dealt with ancient heroes and their adventures, and my imagination was filled with those awesome men wielding their weapons for life and love. I sighed; how romantically brutal life was in those stories. "And how boring mine is," I whispered. The sound of my voice shook me from my mindless wandering. I made sure the fire was secure and went to bed.

  The next morning was like the first with Lily driving off to attend to the final preparations of the show. I waved goodbye to her and turned to survey the cottage. I'd explored all around the place while weeding and found a delightful variety of slugs, snakes and snails. With so many fun things to play with I could hardly tear myself from the cottage, but somehow I found myself back on the wood path headed toward the castle. I paused at the stump, but there was no Duffy today.

  I missed the company, but there was a fun adventure in store for myself. I hadn't explored the creek area at the rear of the castle. It wouldn't exactly be breaking my word to Lily since I didn't mean to go anywhere near the place and risk my friend's livelihood by angering the owner again. I walked through the woods and snuck up to the opening to the castle grounds. The castle lay a good thirty yards away and I didn't see a soul, but that wouldn't have excluded the owner from being seen. Regardless, he wasn't around, but his devil mobile was in the driveway. I'd have to watch for him coming out of the castle.

  I slunk off to the right and to the creek not far off. The bank was well managed with grass bordering the edge and moss-covered rocks holding up the grass. The creek itself was fifteen feet wide, and a foot deep in the center. The clean, blue water gurgled through the rocks in the creek bed, and little fishes swam among the water grass and stones searching for food. It was enough to make one break out in song, but this wasn't a Disney movie and I sang like a cat dragging its nails on a chalkboard while it screeched off-key, off-pitch, and tone-deaf.

  There was a line of large, flat-topped rocks that spanned the length of the creek. My feet itched to dance across those stones and leap over to the other side; surely the grass was greener over there. I glanced around; the coast was clear and so was the bank. No one could stop me from my stupidity. I lifted a leg, stretched it out and tapped the tip of my shoe against the nearest stone. It held firm, giving me an overzealous sense of security. I laughed and dashed across the stones. They were all as sturdy as the first, but I hadn't calculated on how slippery they would be; the moss was my undoing. Halfway across my foot slipped on a rock and I fell butt-first into the freezing-cold water. I froze as the water soaked up my white shirt and bra.

  "Good morning," a voice spoke up. I snapped my head around and found the young lord standing on the edge of the creek with the castle behind him. He had on foot on one of the cursed mossy stones, and leaned one arm over his bent knee. "Did you need help swimming out of my creek?"

  He was much friendlier than our first talking; his eyes were gentler and he had a faint smile on his lips. I didn't trust it. "I can help myself, thank you very much," I snapped back. I grabbed onto a nearby stone and leaned my weight on it to push myself up; leaning my hefty weight was my mistake. My hand slipped off and I plunged back into the icy water. I heard laughter from the bank, and whipped my head over to scowl at him. "Don't you have villagers to harass or taxes to impose or something?" I shot at him. He always brought out the best temper in me.

  "I'm afraid those days are long past, but I can certainly help out a damsel in distress,
" he offered.

  "Shove off, I don't need your help," I snapped back.

  He continued grinning at me. "I have the feeling you're not fond of me," he guessed.

  I found a more reliable rock and managed to climb to my feet. I glare at him with all the dignity of a soaked cat. "Geez, I wonder why that is? Maybe it's because the first time we met you tried to kill me," I informed him.

  His amused expression morphed into bewilderment. "Funny, I don't recall our first meeting in that way. Was I in a trance when I tried to kill you?"

  "No, you were in a car and I was walking down the road. You came out of your driveway like a tax collector was chasing you and nearly ran me over."

  The lord rubbed his chin, and finally shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't recall seeing you anywhere other than at my castle."

  "That just proves you have a bad memory," I snapped at him. Unfortunately, he was on the side of the creek I needed to go, so I grudgingly climbed out of the water and stood a yard from him. He kept staring at me with a rakish look in his eyes. It made me feel like a pile of leaves and he the child wanting to jump me. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

  He nodded down at my shirt. "Perhaps the next time you go swimming you won't wear a white shirt and bra."

  I glanced down, and saw that my shirt and bra were transparent from the water. He could see my pert, goose-bump covered breasts. I yelped and wrapped my arms around myself. I shot him a glare that would melt steel, but he was made of adamantium. "You ass!" I growled.

  The lord shrugged and smirked. "Let's call it a forfeit for trespassing on my lands. The castle is open to the public, but the fields are not."

  I wanted to sock him, but that meant removing a hand from my shirt. "I'm not one of your subjects you can just boss around," I bit back. "So go on back to your castle and dead ancestors, and leave me alone."

  "But I demand another forfeit for your insult yesterday," he insisted. "It's quite rude to be coming into a man's castle insulting his kin."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't know I should have kept my insults just to you," I countered.