by K. C. Crowne
As the kettle boiled, I found myself once more struck by how quiet and peaceful the place was. My condo in Denver was pretty decent – a big-ish place downtown, almost a thousand square feet. But it was still downtown, and that meant noise and traffic and all kinds of chaos. Back when I’d landed my job at the DA’s office, and the salary that came with it, I’d been so excited about having a place downtown. I’d been thrilled to live in the beating heart of the big city, to be right there where all the action and excitement were.
However, in the years since, I’d soured to it a bit. My place felt cramped, the traffic, even as high up as my apartment was, drove me crazy sometimes with the honking and the ambulances and the clanging of garbage trucks. Even the novelty of all the restaurants around me wore off pretty quickly – not to mention I never had time to try them out. Most nights I picked one of my three usuals off UberEats and stayed in.
Grandma’s house was different. When I looked out my kitchen window, I didn’t see miles and miles of roads and buildings and urban sprawl – I saw nature, and not the kind of nature confined to little pocket parks tucked away on city blocks. Real nature, with endless trees and a big blue sky over me and the sounds and smells thick in the air.
I knew what I wanted to do. When my tea was ready, I poured it into one of the big, handmade ceramic mugs in the cupboard and snagged my pageboy cap from where it hung on the coat rack. I pulled it onto my head and took my mug into my hands and stepped outside.
True to Ireland, as I was learning so far, the sky had darkened, covered with clouds. They weren’t mean-looking, ominous clouds. They were smokey, misty clouds that chilled the air just enough to make my cardigan extra cozy and my tea extra warm in my hands. It was the perfect weather to sit by a fire or, in my case at that moment, go for a lovely little stroll in the woods behind my house.
When I stepped outside the air was as crisp and clean as ever, and I wrapped my hands in the big mug and started across the dark green grass toward the forest. There were no sounds around me that weren’t from nature – the back of the house was far enough away from the single road that connected us to town. Only the song of robins and blackbirds and the gentle hush of my shoes the grass filled the air.
The sky began to mist a bit as I reached the tree line. It was a peculiar sort of Irish weather that I’d noticed, a moisture that wasn’t quite rain. It felt refreshing, really, the mist in the air cool against my skin. I let the long, woolen sleeves of my cardigan fall down over my hands, giving me just enough extra warmth against the mild chill in the air. I remembered this specific sort of weather back when Jolene and I used to visit, weather that Grandma would refer to as “grand, soft days.”
I crossed the tree line, the canopy of leaves above more than enough to shelter me from the little bit of rain dropping down. I continued through the woods, following one of the worn paths that I’d walked down so many times as a kid during my summers with Grandma. More locked-away memories rushed back, images if Jolene and me playing in the woods, both of us daring one another to go deeper and deeper away from the safety of the house.
Grandma had always told us that “nasty beasties of all kind” lived far enough in the woods. As kids, Jolene and I had theories that they were only tales Grandma had told us to make sure we didn’t wander too far from the house. True or not, they worked. Despite our goading to one another, neither Joleen nor I had ever ventured further than the small brook that marked the boundary Grandma had given us.
“The brook is magic, you see,” she’d told us. “Blessed by the fairies that live in the woods. The beasties that live further in, where woods get dark, they know better than to cross the fairies. So, you stay on the good side of the brook, and you’ll be just fine.”
I chuckled to myself as I stepped to the brook, the water rushing softly over the smooth stones at the bed. Back when I was a kid, I’d taken every word grandma had said deathly seriously, as if she truly knew about magic and fairies and beasties in the woods. My adult mind, the memories clear as movies, was putting together the evidence and it was all confidently coming down on the side of tall tales that grandma had told us to make sure we stayed safe.
I noticed something else as I made my way through the woods – I felt safe. I was beginning to realize how much anxiety and tension had formed in the background noise of my life in Denver, how the honking horns and drivers screaming at one another that took place whenever I left the apartment had put me in a permanent state of mild stress that I was only noticing now that it was gone.
Add onto that the little fact that the cartel was on the other side of the planet, and it all meant I had nothing to worry about. Even work, the thing that had been the center of my universe for the least several years, seemed like a hazy notion on the far horizon.
As I stared down into the trickling water, all that matter to me in that moment was the brook before me, the question of whether or not it was truly enchanted with fairy dust. Tall tale or no, I almost wanted to let myself believe it because it was simply more fun.
I sat down, setting my mug of tea on a nearby flat stone. I leaned against one of the many thick-trunked trees and allowed my eyes to settle on the flowing brook. To my surprise, my eyelids quickly became heavy. Between the warmth of my cardigan and the trickling water and the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the leaves above, I was in the middle of the most perfect white noise for sleep.
My eyes grew heavier by the minute.
I opened them wide with a jolt, coming back to the moment.
Safe and comfy or not, probably not a good idea to fall asleep in the middle of the damn woods, smart girl.
I stretched my limbs and took in a deep breath, a smile spreading across my face. Even though I’d dozed off -if I could even call it that- I felt more refreshed than I had in a while.
The grass, the water, the leaves above – they were all more vibrant once again. Glittering bits of something were zipping here and there over the water. I stood up and looked around, trying to get my bearings.
The green leaves of the bushes across the brook began to rustle. I craned my neck to get a better look. Something emerged from the bushes, a dark form with piercing dark eyes.
A wolf.
My heart jumped into my chest as the wolf began to growl at me, its form becoming clearer and clearer as it stepped toward the brook.
OK, I thought, my pulse racing. Remember what Grandma said – none of the beasties can get across the creek. That’s where fairy magic stops them.
I couldn’t believe I was thinking that way, putting my stock in Grandma’s stories to save me from the animal that stalked closer and closer by the moment. Soon the wolf was at the edge of the brook, raising its paw to step across it, but once its paw was over the water, it froze in place.
I grinned. That’s right, you ugly little beastie – you can’t go a step further.
Then it did. The wolf put its paw in the water, letting it hang there for a moment, the water breaking around it. Then it put the other, this time with more confidence. My heart went thud-thud-thud as the animal drew nearer. A few more steps and it’d be across the brook, nothing stopping it from making me its next meal.
Before it could finish the journey, however, another figure appeared in the mist beyond the trees. At first, I was certain that another wolf was there to join his friend. Then I realized it wasn’t a wolf – it was a man.
He was tall, and even in the mist I could make out that his figure was strong and built, his shoulders broad, his arms thick and powerful. The figure took one step closer, then another, my eyes and the wolf’s both on him.
When the figure stepped through the mist, I saw that the man was no ordinary man – it was Ronan. He wasn’t naked like before; this time few well-placed vines covered his manhood. He gazed at me, his eyes piercing and green.
“I can’t do this alone, darlin’.”
Without another word, he stepped closer and closer to the wolf. The animal hunched down and growled, the fur
on the back of its neck standing up and a low, horrible growl sounding from its throat as it prepared to strike.
Ronan cast another glance in my direction. This time, I didn’t need him to tell me what to do. I hurried over and stood at his side. There was fear in my belly, fear at the idea of the wolf leaping up toward us at any moment. I pushed it aside, Ronan’s presence allowing me to tap into a strength I didn’t know was there.
The wolf continued to growl – but it stopped moving forward. Its red eyes went from me to Ronan and back to me, as if it were trying to intimidate us into giving up. Neither of us did.
Finally, the wolf lowered its eyes and turned, skulking back to the woods and vanishing into the darkness. My heart continued beating when the wolf was gone – though now for a different reason. I turned to Ronan, and he turned to me. He loomed over me, his nearly nude body tall and strong and irresistible.
“See?” he asked, the word coming out in his usual gorgeous brogue. “Nothing we can’t do when we’re by one another’s side.”
Before I could say a word, he leaned in and placed his lips on mine.
And then I woke up.
I was back in the real word, the colors of my surroundings normal and muted, but still gorgeous. And, of course, Ronan was nowhere to be found. I wrapped my hand around my tea mug, the liquid inside still warm, letting me know that I hadn’t be out for too long. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and checked the time, seeing that it was a little after three.
There was a message from Jolene.
Hey! Not sure if you were busy, but the kids are out, and I’ve got the day off. Wanted to see if you wanted to do a Zoom.
The message was only a few minutes old, and I quickly responded.
Sure! Just wandering in the woods right now. Give me a few minutes to get back home and I’ll call you.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and reached for my mug. When I did, I noticed something nearby that I hadn’t before – a presence behind me, further down the brook. The dream and the wolf still fresh in my mind, I turned slowly.
It wasn’t a wolf at all – it was a gorgeous deer, the animal’s head lowered toward the water as it drank. Upon noticing I was watching it, however, the animal froze, lifting his head in a quick motion, panic its eyes.
“It’s OK,” I said, slowly raising my hand. “It’s OK. I’m a friend, not going to hurt you.” I spoke slowly, my voice low and calm.
The deer regarded me for several seconds more, the panic slowly fading and replaced by placidity. Then the deer lowered its head back to the water, taking a few more sips before lifting up once again and prancing off into the woods.
This place was simply magical, and I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten that. I grabbed my mug and hurried back to the house.
As soon as I stepped inside, I noticed that the house was getting a bit chilly. The cardigan was more than enough to keep me nice and warm, but it was starting to feel like perfect weather to get a fire going in the living room or the study later tonight when the sun was down.
I set my tea aside as I grabbed my MacBook from the kitchen table and took it into the study. I plopped into Grandma’s old chair and opened the laptop, noticing how few bars I had. I made a mental note to see about getting more substantial internet installed as I clicked open Zoom and dialed Jolene.
Seconds later, the smiling face of my sister appeared on the screen.
“Hey!” she practically screamed the word. And I screamed right back – I was thrilled to see her face.
Once the excitement died down, Jolene went right into speaking.
“Oh my God,” she said, her eyes searching around my screen at the background. “That’s Grandma and Grandpa’s old study. You’re really there in Ireland, aren’t you?”
“I know, I know,” I said, sitting back and placing the computer on my lap as I reached for my tea. “It still feels so freaking surreal. And it’s making me mad that I let so much time pass before coming to visit. How’s the fam?”
“Good, good,” she said. “The usual. Kids are at school and Sawyer’s pulling a long one today, so I figured I’d get in some bumming around time while I could. But there’s nothing more interesting going on here than the fact that you’re in freaking Ireland. Oh my God! How is it? Tell me everything.”
I paused for a moment, unsure of how much everything to tell her.
Jolene raised her finger. “I can already tell you’re wondering whether or not to tell me something.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s the problem with sisters, right? They know you better than you know yourself.”
“That’s right. Now, spill it.”
With that, I went into it all. I told her about the house and the woods and Sandy Cove, how wonderful and peaceful and familiar everything seemed.
“I love it,” she said, a beaming smile on her face. “But that’s not all. There’s something else you’re not telling me…”
So much for keeping my romantic life, such that it was, under wraps.
“Well, there’s this guy…”
“I knew it!” she said, snapping her fingers and pointing at the screen. “I knew it was a dude! Let’s hear it – tell me everything.”
“OK, but before I get into that I should let you know that it’s no big deal at all. It’s one date that hasn’t even happened yet.”
“I don’t believe you that it’s no big deal, sis. But tell me anyway. And don’t hold anything back.”
So, I told her.
When I was done, she clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side and let out an, “aww.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You don’t have to be a brat about it.”
“I’m not being a brat! I honestly think it’s really cute that you’re dreaming about this guy. It means you really like him.”
“It means there’s something wrong with me. Why the hell should I be dreaming about this guy who I just met?”
“Maybe there’s something special between the two of you.”
“Oh! There’s something else I forgot to tell you about this guy. I can’t believe it slipped my mind.”
“What?” there was excitement in her voice.
“He’s on Tik Tok, him and his brothers. And I think they’re going to be staring in a reality show or something.”
“Holy crap!” She turned away from the camera, feverishly typing. “Wow, I think I found them.”
“How did you do that so fast?”
“Just Googled ‘Irish doctors Tik Toks.’ Not like there are many of those, you know? Here, I’ve got them up – I’ll send the one I’m looking at to you.”
A chime sounded out and the link to the Tik Tok appeared in our iMessage window. I clicked it and the familiar face of Brendan, their secretary, arrived in my Safari window.
“OK,” I said. “That’s their secretary, or personal assistant, or whatever. He’s this really cute gay guy who was so freaking charming. Total cutie pie. I think he’s the one who got them to do all this.”
“I’m watching,” she said.
I clicked play on mine and Brendan introduced the Tik Tok with his usual routine of dancing while pointing to word bubbles. This time, it said “asking Dr. Ronan if he’s got a date lined up for the weekend.”
The screen cut to Ronan, who was seated at his desk working on something, his head down so all that was visible was his shock of red hair.
“Um, doc?” Brendan asked. “Got any plans lined up for this weekend? Maybe with a lady?”
Ronan glanced up, his handsome face all business. He seemed a little ticked off, his green eyes narrowed.
“If you don’t stop bothering me to put me on Tik Tok you’re going to have plans lined up – with a proctologist to have that phone removed from your bum.” He flashed the slightest hint of a smile, letting Brendan know he was mostly messing around.
The screen returned to Brendan, the text on display saying, “You heard the man, ladies – he’s single!”
> I laughed.
Chapter 15
RONAN
I’d been doing my best to keep my expectations for the evening measured. All the same, I couldn’t help but be a wee bit excited at my date with Joann. The hours seemed to drag by, and by the time four rolled around I was eager to see her again.
It was all strange. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way about a woman. I mean, not saying I was in love with her or anything mad like that, but I was excited, which was odd enough.
My four o’clock had cancelled, so when I finished with Mrs. Shephard, my three o’clock appointment, I decided to check out for the day. After taking care of a little paperwork, I headed to Collin’s office to let him know I was leaving. He wasn’t there and neither was Aiden in his office.
Commotion sounded from down the hall in the direction of the break room. The booming laughter let me know right away that it was my brothers. I headed over and when I reached the break room, a big, spacious area with a TV, small kitchen, and plenty of comfy seats, I spotted them right away. My brothers were seated in two of the overstuffed leather chairs, glasses of booze in their hands.
“There he is!” Aiden shouted, looking pleased as punch to see me. “Get your arse over here, brother!”
Confused, I made my way over and spotted a bottle of whiskey on the little wooden table between them.
“What’s all this about?” I asked. “You two getting knackered on the clock?”
“Come now,” Aiden pouted. “You think we’d be that unprofessional? I finished my three-thirty and Collin here’s done for the day.”
“And what’s with the booze?”
“You talked to Brendan recently?” Collin asked. There was an empty glass on the table, and Collin passed it to me. I apprehensively took it.
“Not in a few hours.”
“Well, that’s why!” Aiden said. “The Dryers came by an hour or so ago, wanted to thank us for being such a great team and helping them through their first pregnancy. So, they dropped off three bottles of the good stuff – one for each of us.” Aiden handed me the bottle and I took a look at the label.