The Irishman (A Legacy Novella) (The Legacy Series Book 7)

by Sheritta Bitikofer

  Dustin backed down the church steps. “I know, I know. I got a little sidetracked picking these flowers.”

  Her expression softened at his excuse. “Well, they look beautiful. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

  Before Dustin could ask if his sister was ready for the role she’d play as maid of honor, a tiny hand tugged on the loose hem of his shirt. He looked down to meet a bright pair of brown eyes gazing up at him.

  “Can I ride on your back again?” the five-year-old asked.

  Dustin cracked a smile. He knew he had made a mistake the day he offered to play games with the smaller children during their recess from lessons. Now, every time he appeared on the property and they were not otherwise occupied with their studies, the small children clamored for his attention and strong back to ride on. “No, not today, Betha. I’ve got to go meet my girl.”

  Her cute, chubby face puckered. “I thought I was your girl.”

  On the steps, Katherine couldn’t help but giggle at Betha’s remark.

  Dustin would have laughed as well if he didn’t think it’d hurt Betha’s feelings. “You are,” he returned. “But Cassandra’s my very special girl.”

  “So, you’re still going to marry her?”

  “Sure am,” Dustin replied, beaming with pride that he would finally make good on a childhood promise he had made to Cassandra.

  Beth let out a tiny sigh and nodded. “Okay, as long as I’m still your girl too.”

  With that, she scampered back up the steps and disappeared into the schoolhouse, her dark braids bouncing against her shoulders as she went.

  Dustin and Katherine exchanged amused looks before she had to turn back toward the church doors. Already, he could hear another argument erupting amongst the boys seated in the pews.

  “Put your foot down with them, Katey Kat,” he called out as he made his way out of the church yard. “Show them who the boss is.”

  Katherine gave a laugh at her affectionate nickname, the one that had followed her ever since she was as young as Betha with braids and freckles across her cheeks. “Oh, they know who’s boss. And he’s walked away with a handful of wildflowers.”

  Dustin gave a helpless shrug and waved her a goodbye before continuing down the road to enter Glengarriff.

  Cassandra nearly tripped over the threshold of the back door as she made her way into the home, her arms loaded down with firewood. Her father had just replaced the timber that kept the draft from seeping under the door leading out to the backside of the house in preparation for the coming winter. She could never remember to pick her feet up high enough.

  With a bit of sweat dotting her forehead, she made her way into the main room of the house and let the meager logs tumble from her arms onto the stone hearth. She brushed off the damp bits of moss and bark chips that clung to her sleeves.

  It was hardly the kind of thing she thought she’d be doing on the day before her wedding. Any other woman would be spending time with her friends, celebrating her final hours of maidenhood. But not all women were depended on as she was. With her mother gone and only her father to work their small farm, she was expected to do more than most women did.

  But she didn’t mind the work. Not really. There was no greater satisfaction than feeling the grit of soil in her palms and the sting of sweat at the corner of her eyes that told her she had accomplished something that day. Cassandra wasn’t afraid to roll up her sleeves and tuck the hem of her skirt into her belt so she could kneel down and tend their garden. And with her father’s frequently aching back, no one else was going to do the job.

  Dustin had been more than a lover, but also a blessing for her and her family since her mother had passed and her father suffered with his aching joints. He called upon them almost every day after his own chores were done to give her a helping hand – whether she wanted it or not. Sometimes, his help meant the difference between a plentiful harvest and another lean year where they grew just enough food to keep them from starving.

  Cassandra stood up straight and brushed off the dirt from her apron into the dormant fireplace. It wasn’t quite cold enough to build one yet, but she knew it would be soon. And when she was well settled next door with her new husband, she suspected that she’d have to come pay her father a visit and make sure he was warm enough through the winter.

  She caught herself smiling as she thought of what her life would be like after tomorrow, after she was married to Dustin and they could finally have a place of their own. Or, as close to their own as any of the citizens of Glengarriff could achieve in their lifetime. Not a day went by when her father wouldn’t continually remind her of the injustice done unto them by the British. So little autonomy could be afforded to those of the lower-class. For that reason, her father refused to speak in the English language, though he knew it as well as she did. It was his way of rebelling against the crown without the use of swords or violence.

  Being so grounded in the traditions and old faith of their ancestors made him the town’s expert in all things related to the fairy folk and ancient stories. She had heard them so often while growing up that she could recite them all exactly as her father had told them. If she had any inclination to pass on such stories to her children, she’d have no trouble recollecting every detail.

  Cassandra’s smile widened at the idea that she might be a mother one day. Hopefully, soon. Dustin had already made it known that they were welcome to take their time when it came to building their family. However, she knew she wouldn’t want to tarry long in the endeavor. If she could get pregnant soon, then perhaps she could give birth before the real work was to begin on their farm.

  A blush rose to her cheeks at the thought of getting busy with Dustin so quickly, just as she caught the sight of someone coming up the walkway from the road. Through the window, she saw her intended, his strong stride carrying him up the shallow incline to her front door with a bouquet of stunning flowers in his hand.

  Propriety dictated that she should wait for her father to answer the door, but she was too eager and flushed with excitement after thinking of the life they would share. Tugging her skirt out from her belt to let it fall over her shift, Cassandra hurried to greet him.

  He seemed pleasantly surprised to see her standing before him when she swung the door open. He was even more surprised when she grabbed him by the front of his vest and pulled him down for a long kiss. Stealing one now was more forgivable than trying to sneak one in while her father was chaperoning them in the same room.

  When she pulled away, she beheld that familiar hungry look in his eye that let her know he couldn’t wait to get started on a family as well. She grinned and dropped her hands from his vest as if she were completely contented to be proper and dignified now that her more lustful whim was satisfied.

  “Where’s your da?” Dustin whispered, his gaze darting over her shoulder, probably expecting that the old man would come walking in from an adjoining room to spoil their privacy.

  “Out in the field,” she replied. “He’ll be back in shortly, though. I heard him complaining about his back earlier and – “

  “Cassandra!” her father’s voice boomed from the back door.

  She spun around, her blonde braids snapping behind her. “I just answered the door,” she told him in the old Irish tongue.

  There was no way that her father, Samuel, could turn her over his knee as he had done when she was a child. He was not as strong as he had once been and his clothes hung off his tall frame with considerable looseness. They were stained by sweat and the soil that he had practically lived in all his life. That was how his father had lived, and his father before him, and Samuel took pride in his roots. Even if he wasn’t in the best of conditions to be toiling away in the fields all day, he would find a way to do it.

  Her father’s blue eyes turned to his future son-in-law with a level of sternness, blaming Dustin for the indecency of being in Cassandra’s company alone. It had never mattered before the day that Dustin made his intentions fu
lly known to Samuel. Ever since he had come calling with the town’s matchmaker to ask for her hand, Samuel had always been mindful to make sure they were never completely by themselves. It almost made her wish they had run away from Glengarriff together.

  “I did just arrive, Mr. Flanagan,” Dustin replied, indulging Samuel in his silly language obstinance.

  Her father looked back to her and then to the flowers in Dustin’s hands and seemed to accept the excuse. “Go breá,” he said with a flip of his hand that was spotted with mud. “Why come calling on the lass when you’re going to be married tomorrow?”

  Cassandra let out a slow, subtle breath, glad that her father didn’t grow suspicious of the way her cheeks reddened under his scrutiny.

  “I came to give my wedding present,” Dustin said as he stepped up alongside her to present the flowers that she hadn’t had the chance to admire yet.

  Only until her father gave a tiny nod did she take the flowers from Dustin and breathe in the sweet, floral aroma that she so loved. It was only slightly better than the earthy smell of good Irish soil, but just as pleasing.

  But when her eyes fell upon the most precious flower in the collection, her mouth fell open. Cassandra was tempted to drop all of the colorful arrangement except for the bog stitchwort nestled amongst the stems. It was so small that it had almost gone unnoticed.

  She slipped it out and marveled at its delicate beauty.

  “Look, athair!” she cried, holding it up for her father to see. “This is the flower I had been telling you about.”

  Samuel ambled forward and peered at the tiny white flower pinched in her fingers. “It’s a bit small. You made it sound like it was much bigger.”

  Perhaps her regard for the bog stitchwort was a bit effusive, suggesting that it was much larger than it truly was. That didn’t make it any less meaningful in her heart.

  She turned to Dustin and bounced on the balls of her feet, wishing that she could have thrown her arms about his neck and showered him with thanks for the thoughtful present. “I thought the last of them had died off in August.”

  Dustin proudly lifted his chin. “I thought so too, but I searched all day just for you.”

  She cast him a doubtful look. “All day?”

  Seeing that she wasn’t convinced by his boasting, he let his shoulders sag a bit. “Okay, maybe only an hour or so.”

  Cassandra knew him too well to think that he would spend all day looking for a flower. He might have loved her, but he was far too impatient and lazy to spend more than a moment searching for something he had lost, whether it meant a great deal to him or not. To know he had spent an hour looking for a special flower was far more than she could have ever expected out of him, and it made the gift so much more profound.

  “No matter how long you looked,” she said softly, hoping her words could convey the true intimacy of her meaning, “it was a thoughtful thing to do. Thank you.”

  Once again, if they were alone, she would have kissed him and held him close until he could feel her own heart beating, just for him. By the way Dustin gazed down at her, she knew that he wanted the same. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Samuel cleared his throat to interrupt their silent, mawkish exchange. “Well, you gave her the gift. Now it’s time for you to go. There’s still a lot to do before tomorrow. Wasn’t Brian going to throw you a party?”

  Dustin nodded, tearing his eyes from his beloved for only a second or two to look to his father-in-law. “Yes, but that’s not for a couple of hours.”

  A tiny shiver of anxiety rose in her chest at the mention of “Brian” and “party” in the same sentence. That usually entailed a lot of drinking and a lot of men hobbling home in the wee hours of the morning, langered and in for a scolding from their wives.

  “Don’t you dare come stumbling into the church tomorrow morning in a heap with a pounding head or I won’t feel the least bit sorry for you.”

  Dustin chuckled and shook his head at her tiny flair of a temper. “You know I can hold my whiskey better than that,” he teased. Cassandra saw his eyes dart back to her father, then he angled his head ever so slightly toward the front door with a raised brow.

  She would have never thought him to be so bold as to give the usual signal with her father standing right there, but one look to her father showed that he didn’t notice.

  “You best be getting ready for the party, then,” she said, tilting her chin down just a slight bit to let him know that she understood him perfectly.

  Dustin turned back to Samuel, shook his hand and wished him well until the morrow. Even if they were about to see one another again within a few moments, Cassandra hated to see him leave. How she would survive watching him walk out into the fields each morning, she didn’t know.

  With everything in her soul, Cassandra dearly hoped that they would not end up as her parents did, constantly bickering until they were sick of one another’s company. Although the death of her mother was in no ways wished for by her father, their home had been remarkably quiet in the last few years since she had left them. There was no more yelling that shook the rafters above their heads or silly arguments that lasted for weeks on end.

  She wanted a marriage more like that of the late Keith family. There was never a doubt whispered in all of Glengarriff that Mr. and Mrs. Keith loved each other more than any two people should have been allowed. Their blissful, cooperative marriage was the envy of every young couple in town, including Cassandra. Well into their waning years, their eyes still held that youthful, playful sparkle. She wanted that kind of union, where one could not bear to be parted from the other for more than half a day or so.

  With luck, a bit of his parents’ influence rubbed off on Dustin and they would have a magical marriage.

  Samuel shuffled into the kitchen to boil some water for tea and Cassandra set the flowers down on the dining table. She was careful not to let the bog stitchwort be buried under the other heavy petals that would surely wrinkle it into a state of pure ugliness.

  “I’m going to go fetch some eggs from Mrs. Kelly,” she informed him as she bent down to grab the collection basket. She was likely to discard it somewhere after she met up with Dustin. Cassandra would have to make some excuse about getting into a long conversation with the old woman about the health of her chickens and deplorable state of their coup, which her husband neglected to repair. Knowing the way Mrs. Kelly ran her mouth, the lie would go undetected for sure.

  Samuel tossed a few logs into the stove to rekindle it and gave his wave of approval. “Just be back before nightfall,” he said. “And make sure Dustin looks after you. I wouldn’t want the changelings taking my daughter away before her wedding.”

  Cassandra’s eyes went wide. “Sin amaidí! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dustin just left.”

  Her father gave her a look and then latched the iron door to the potbellied stove. “You know perfectly well what I mean.” He righted himself with some pain, his hand pressed into his lower back to help him up from his stooped position. “Don’t go into the forest if you two can help it. Do you remember what parts I told you not to go into?”

  She wanted to roll her eyes and tell her father that she wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t believe in fairies or changelings that stole away beautiful children only to replace them with one of their own. But she could give every logical reason why such creatures never could exist, and her father would still talk about them as if they were a real threat to his family.

  “Yes, athair, I remember where the fairy rings are,” she said as she made her way toward the front door. “But I won’t be going in the forest anyway. Just to Mrs. Kelly’s, remember?”

  “Don’t be out too late,” he called before dropping the kettle of water onto the stovetop.

  Certain that she would get nowhere in convincing her father of her lie, she dashed out the door and down the lane where Dustin was waiting for her.

  Chapter Two

  With Cassandra’s hand
securely fixed in his own, he helped her across the rocks that were slick with moss along the riverbank. A time or two, her foot slipped, but he was there to whisk her back to safety once more as they took the path toward their special meeting spot. The way was worn down, the grasses trampled so often by only their eager feet as they hurried away from Glengarriff.

  This shady place overlooking the river had been consecrated by them since they were no more than five years old. Back then, it had been a place of escape from their parents and a world that wanted to ruin their fun. Now, it was still their safe haven, saturated with memories they would take with them into their new married life.

  It was here that they first kissed, where they confessed their love for one another, where Dustin vowed that he would make her his wife someday. They had never forsaken this place before, and he was sure they never would, even in the many years to follow, as long as they stayed in Glengarriff.

  As soon as they were seated beside one another on the cushy bed of foliage, Cassandra leaned over and seized his lips with her own, just as she had impetuously done when he’d come to call on her earlier. He didn’t protest and returned her kiss with just as much warmth as she gave, deepening it as he had wanted to less than an hour ago.

  When he first formally met Cassandra as a young boy, he could have never predicted that their lives would come to this. She had always been there, his best friend when all other boys shied away from girls. She was a constant in his life when his parents passed away and when Katherine married. And he did his utmost to be that constant for her through all the trials and difficulties that she didn’t deserve.

  He hoped, that by marrying her, he could ease some of those troubles.

  When they finally pulled away, breathless and their eyes bright with desire, Dustin looked away toward the river. If he didn’t watch himself, there would be more than a little embarrassment the following morning when they had to stand in front of their friends and neighbors to speak their vows. Even though they had both been more than willing to breech through the sanctity of what should have been reserved for marriage, they refrained. If it was truly as spectacular as it had been made out to be, it was worth the wait.