Sidna

by Katharine E Hamilton

  PREQUEL TO

  THE SIBLINGS O’RIFCAN SERIES

  By Katharine E. Hamilton

  Sidna

  Copyright © 2019 by Katharine E. Hamilton

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of Katharine E. Hamilton.

  www.katharinehamilton.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  LIMERICK, IRELAND

  “Sidna love, get yer head out of the clouds and come down here!”

  Sighing in reluctance, Sidna Doyle swung her feet to the floor and placed her book on top of her quilted bed. So much for wishing to read her morning away. Her mother’s voice drifted up the stairs and had her hastening her steps to the sitting room below.

  “Yes, Mam?” Sidna asked.

  “I’ve finished the blanket for Mrs. O’Rifcan. You will deliver it.” Her mother’s tone decisive, Sidna placed her hands on her hips and eyed her mother with a narrowed gaze.

  “I’m busy today, Mam. I can’t be delivering blankets all over County Clare.”

  Her mother’s beady eyes peered over the top of her glasses as she sat in her chair stitching patterns on her next quilt project. “Are you disobeying me, lass?”

  Sidna backtracked her obstinance, knowing full well that if she did not do her mother’s bidding, she’d face the consequences: typically, a firm hand on the backside. Even with Sidna at the age of eighteen, her mam was not afraid to enforce the rod. “No, ma’am. I will take it to her.”

  “Good. And change yer dress. That be an ill-fitting color on you.”

  Sidna glanced down at the cream-colored dress she wore, the pale blue ribbon tied around her waist and the lace cuffs at her wrists. It was one her mother had made her just this passed Christmas. It was fashionable here in Limerick and she thought it quite lovely. Clearly, her mam did not. “Yes, ma’am.” Sidna hurried back upstairs and changed into a sage green gown that buttoned up the back and had a pink ribbon that acted as a belt to shape it to her frame. Though not a skinny lass, she had a silhouette of curves she’d come to appreciate. And she knew, for a fact, that many a man in Limerick appreciated them as well, as her da had been turning away potential suitors for months as of late. That thought pleased her and gave her a boost of confidence as she pinned her hair and bounded down the stairs once more.

  “Quilt is there. You know where they live?” her mother asked.

  “Mrs. O’Rifcan is the dairy farmer over in Castlebrook, yes?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then yes. I believe I do. They live on Angel’s Gap.”

  “Good. I imagine she will wish for you to stay for the evening meal, as it will be later in the afternoon when you arrive, I give you permission to stay with the promise of a ride home from Mr. O’Rifcan.”

  “I’d rather just come straight home.”

  “No such thing, lass. If you be traveling all the way to Castlebrook, Mrs. O’Rifcan will expect you to stay and visit for a bit. You will. ‘Tis proper that way. Besides, Hendrick will need to return the car before your da comes home.”

  “Fine.” Sidna hated imposing upon strangers. And though she knew her mother and Mrs. O’Rifcan were friendly acquaintances, a long drive with Mr. O’Rifcan did not sound appealing. She fetched the quilt and draped it over her arm, the twine tied around it into a firm bow.

  “See you later, love. A kiss for yer mammy.” Her mother tilted her cheek up as Sidna rushed forward to give a chaste press of the lips to the worn cheek before heading out the door.

  ∼

  A knock sounded on the front door of the house, but Claron had no mind to answer. He was too busy hosing off his boots on the back stoop. Besides, whatever company had come to call upon his parents, they’d see no one was home and simply leave. He heard the knock again. Annoyed, quick taps of the knuckles on the wooden door drew him around the corner. He paused a moment as he spotted a pretty young woman peering through one of the front windows trying to gauge whether anyone was home. She stepped back onto the top step and knocked one more time. He heard her sigh and look down at the bundle in her arms. He noticed her fretting as she ran a nervous hand down the front of her dress and looked out over the gap. Her features softened. The gap did that, he mused. The beauty of it calmed the soul. And when she turned to look out over the land it was then he saw how beautiful she really was. He couldn’t just stand in the shadows when a lass as lovely as a fairy seemed to need something. He was a gentleman, after all. He rounded the corner, his steps causing her to jump in surprise as she turned and spotted him.

  Placing a hand to her heart, she said, “You startled me.”

  “Sorry ‘bout that.” He grinned and watched as her steady blue eyes held him in place at the bottom stoop. “You looking for someone?”

  “Aye. Mrs. Aibreen O’Rifcan.”

  “That be me Mam.”

  “Oh?” the woman’s brows rose.

  “And who should I tell her has called upon her?” he asked, gently reaching for her hand and brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “What’s yer name, pretty lass?”

  Her eyes searched his and he could tell she was nervous, but she didn’t step away. He liked that. He liked even more too. She wasn’t very tall and had to look up at him, her soft cheek turned slightly so as to gauge whether she should be wary of him or not. He smiled.

  “Sidna. Sidna Doyle. Me mam makes quilts and your mother ordered one. I’m here to deliver it.” She held up the package.

  “Dat so?” he tapped the package with his finger. “And do you make quilts, lovely Sidna?”

  “Aye. Though I prefer knitting to quilting.”

  His green eyes washed over her. “Well, me Mam isn’t here. She and me da are in the village fetching the messages. They should be along shortly. You can leave the quilt there, if you like.” He pointed to a rocking chair that sat alongside another one facing the cliffs.

  She gently rested it in the chair and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, ‘tis a bit unfortunate that yer parents aren’t here. Me mam expected your da to give me a ride home.”

  “Did she now?” he asked.

  “Aye.”

  “So you’re here without a return trip, hm?” his eyes twinkled. “Come along then. Might as well be useful while you wait.” He reached for her hand and tugged her down the porch and towards a wooden barn across the grassy pasture before she could mutter an objection.

  ∼

  She must have lost her mind somewhere between the front porch and the barn, because as she tried to keep step with the long-legged stranger, she soon found herself in a sprint through the flowers. His hand, roughened by routine work, never left hers as they ran towards the barn. She heard him laugh and her stomach flipped at the intriguing sound. He was tall, mostly legs, but his body boasted of hard work and too much sun. Tan, lean, strong, and his eyes bewitched her. A mossy green against pure sunshine was the best she could muster when contemplating them later on. He tugged her to a stop outside the barn doors and held a finger to his lips. “The ladies do not like a loud parlor.” When they stepped inside the barn, Sidna’s eyes widened at the sight of the cows already lined up for afternoon milking. Her mother had said the O’Rifcans were dairy farmers, but to see the grueling work firsthand was another story. She looked at her hands.

  “Something wrong?�
�� he asked.

  “Do you have any gloves?”

  He laughed. “No, lass. Best not worry about getting them dirty. Just accept it as a fact.” He winked, and she felt her stomach flip again.

  She placed her hands on her hips. “You expect a lass to help you milk the cows and do not offer her protection?”

  He shrugged. “Not when the lass is as formidable as you.”

  “You do not know a thing about me.” Sidna pointed out as he began placing the milkers onto the cows’ udders.

  “Aye, that is true.” He motioned to his work and then pointed for her to start at the other end.

  Though she was a bit annoyed of his expectation of her help, she lifted her dress to avoid a dung puddle and mirrored his previous actions. Pleased, he watched her a moment before setting about his own responsibilities.

  “You’ve yet to tell me your name.”

  He looked up and furrowed his brow. “I suppose I haven’t, hm?” he chuckled. “Claron’s the name. Claron O’Rifcan.”

  She liked it. She liked him. It’d been awhile since a man had piqued her interest. Sure, she found company in many a handsome face in Limerick, but that was for social hour or a dance or two. She hadn’t, as of yet, found a man that intrigued her as much as this one.

  “So Sidna Doyle,” he began. “Do you enjoy living in Limerick?”

  “Aye.”

  He wrinkled his nose at her reply.

  “I’m guessing you do not like the place?”

  “Limerick is fine.”

  “Then why did you pull a face?” she asked.

  “‘Tis just a city in my book. And cities I don’t much favor.”

  “Why?”

  “Too crowded, I suppose.”

  “You’d rather live out here in the middle of nowhere with no one but your mammy and da and cows for company?”

  He leaned against the railing as the sounds of cow bellows and machine pumps whirled around them. His shirt was stained, his denims ripped above the knee, and his boots scuffed, but the small smirk of his lips enraptured her.

  “Are you offended I do not like yer city?”

  “Not a’tall.” She countered. “‘Tis not for everyone.”

  “Tell me, Sidna lass, do you have a beau in Limerick?”

  Baffled, she shook her head. “‘Tis an improper question, Mr. O’Rifcan.”

  His shoulders relaxed as he grinned. “So that is a yes, then?”

  “No.”

  “So, it’s a no?” he pestered.

  She blew a frustrated breath. “What does it matter?” she asked.

  “Because I like the look of you.”

  His blunt response had her eyes flashing towards him again and he dazzled her with his wide smile.

  “Pish posh. You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t have to know you to like the look of you.” He pointed out, pulling himself away from the railing and removing the milkers to signal for the current row of cows to move on and the next batch to wander inside. “Have I embarrassed you?” his tone grew serious and she looked up to find him standing right beside her elbow. She jumped a step back in surprise. He caught her elbow before she bumped into one of the entering cows.

  “No. I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t understand why you be wasting time flirting with me when you’ve chores that need doing.” She motioned, flustered, towards the cows lining up for their turn.

  He stepped closer to her. “You didn’t answer me question.”

  He stood so close she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. His hair was a bit unruly, the thick waves of brown and blond framed his handsome face in a rugged sort of way, she thought. But it was his eyes, that despite his boldness, held a softness as they soaked her in.

  “No. I do not have a beau.”

  He nodded and took a step back and continued his work. “Good.” She heard him mumble, and she busied herself as best she could by mimicking his movements.

  ∼

  “‘Tis not glamorous work.” Claron rounded the corner of the barn to a slab of concrete that reeked of manure. He pointed to a water pump. “I’ll pour if you scrape.”

  “What is it yer after?” she asked, disgusted with her surroundings.

  He handed her a broom, the bristles toughened by outdoor use and she watched as he pumped a large bucket full of water. He then poured it over the concrete and motioned for her to start scraping the sludge towards the edge. “Is this how you woo all your ladies?” she asked.

  Laughing, he shook his head. “You be the first.”

  “So, I should count myself lucky, then?”

  “I would, otherwise the fairies may rethink their blessing.”

  She snickered as he splashed another bucketful on the ground, and she applied a little elbow grease to scrape the lot. He noticed the brown specks of manure that had now begun to coat the hem of her dress and he felt a twinge of guilt at ruining such a pretty number. She didn’t seem to notice and to save on hysterics, he didn’t mention it.

  “You have a firm hand there, Sidna. The lot will be sparkling by the time we’re done with it.”

  “Do you not have someone to help you with this?”

  “Me da, when he’s home, but lately it’s just been me since his back’s been on the fritz.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Claron shrugged as if the injury wasn’t serious but more a common hazard of the workplace. He splashed a bucket and walked back for another as she continued to work. The ground was slippery and wet, and he watched as her shoes skidded against the concrete. She kept her balance, continued to sweep, and held a firmer grip on the broom so as to prevent a further spill.

  He tossed the last bucket of water out onto the lot. As he approached her, his boot slipped and had him crashing into her. She tried to brace herself with the broom, but his clumsiness took the best of them and both their feet slipped and skidded. Arms flailed and gripped as they tried to balance one another. Sidna’s legs shot straight out to either side, her temporary split having him lean forward to try and catch her. She tugged on his arms to steady herself but felt his center of gravity shift as his feet slipped out from under him and in between her spread legs. His boot tapped her ankle on the way down and caused her to collapse, landing mostly against his chest, as her hands splattered into manure on either side of him. He sat, upright, landing with a hard thud on his rear end as the force of both their weights collided into him. Sidna was on her knees, which thankfully landed against the concrete between his legs instead of his crotch. She crashed backwards to her bottom; her legs draped over his own. If anyone were to happen by, they’d think them up to some serious shenanigans. Breathless, he roamed a hand over her face and hair. “You alright, lass?” Worry etched his forehead as he waited for her to respond. Her grimy hands lifted, and she rested them in her lap, staining her dress even further. Afraid she may burst into tears, he pulled back in surprise as a trill of laughter bubbled from her lips.

  She raised her hands and looked at her dirty palms and then held them to her chest as she leaned forward and guffawed. He relaxed, his sore tailbone forgotten as he slowly stood and helped her to her feet. They cautiously made their way off of the lot and into the grass and once free of the skating, Sidna gave him a once over. “And this be how you show a lass a good time, is it?”

  His face flushed red as he walked with her towards the house and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck trying to think of the best way to explain their appearance to his parents when they arrived home. How would they feel showing up and seeing them both in such a state? He wasn’t sure, but he cringed, thinking of his father’s wrath.

  “I am sorry about your pretty dress, lass.”

  “Mammy will be sure to have a fit.” She giggled at the thought as she eased onto the front porch step. He sat beside her.

  “I’d offer you a drink of a sort, but I hate to trudge through the house in such a state.”

  “Then ‘twould be yer mammy who’d be
in a fit. I am fine here. Just fine.”

  “Aye. I believe you are.” He reached out and the curl that had escaped her pins he gently tucked behind her ear. She stared at him, her blue eyes dancing as she studied him.

  “Is life here always so exciting?” she asked.

  “Only with you around.” He grinned. “Is it this exciting in the city?”

  She glanced at her messy palms and dress. “Not even close.” She smiled and turned her head as they heard an approaching car.

  Mr. and Mrs. O’Rifcan walked slowly up the path, curious expressions on their faces at not only finding a visitor on their front stoop, but a visitor covered in cow dung at that. Mr. O’Rifcan’s face split into an amused smile. “Bring a lass home for dinner, did you lad?”

  Sidna stood to her feet and brushed her hand on the front of her dress before extending it. “Sidna Doyle. Me mam asked me to bring your quilt by.” She explained, pointing to the package on the rocking chair.

  “And you thought a tumble with the cows would be fun while you wait, hm?” the older man asked.

  Sidna blushed. “I… just wanted to help.”

  “And it appears you did.” Mrs. O’Rifcan beamed. “Claron, show her the pump. You two wash those hands and I’ll have some food on the porch awaiting you both. Aodhán,” she called to her husband, “bring in the quilt, love.” Claron’s da tapped him on the shoulder as he passed by and Claron nodded towards the backside of the house.

  “The pump be back here, lass.” He handed her a bar of soap as she scrubbed her hands up to her elbows. He did the same. When they’d both polished clean, he led her back around the small cottage and to the front stoop.

  ∼

  True to her word, Mrs. O’Rifcan had set a tray of cold cuts and cheeses on a small wooden table between the two rocking chairs for them and Sidna ate heartily.

  “Do you ever travel to Limerick?” she asked Claron, his parents eating their own supper inside the house and leaving them be on the porch.

  “Not often, no.”

  “Oh.” Disappointed at his reply, she bit into another cracker.