Aaron Chapter 4

Killarney, Ireland, 1846

Aislyn was standing next to the well, the one that most townsfolk used to water their animals when they were out on the commons as her family’s sheep were now. Though he had no animals and no reason to be congregated near the watering hole, he realized he was approaching, and there was nothing he could do to prevent himself from doing so.

At fifteen, she was just as lovely as ever. Her hair was longer still, and she almost always wore it in a single braid down her back, though he still liked it best free and billowing in the wind. She had the loveliest green eyes and the kindest smile. Her porcelain skin looked soft and creamy, and though he’d never run the back of his hand down her cheek, he’d imagined doing so would feel like touching fine silk linen.

He’d taken to speaking to her whenever he could, and he was beginning to think perhaps she fancied him, though he knew she couldn’t be nearly as fond of him as he was of her. Still, as he came to an abrupt halt before her, only a few grazing sheep and old Ms. Sutton within earshot, her smile broadened, and she looked up at him through long, thick lashes.

“Good day, Miss O’Malley,” Aaron said, not able to hold back the grin that spread across his face. “How are you this day?”

“Oh, Aaron, you’re always so formal,” she replied, smoothing her worn blue frock. “You know you may call me Aislyn. We’ve known each other since we were wee ones.”

“Aye, we have, though tis true that neither of us are so wee anymore.” She peered at him for a moment, her brow furrowed, as if she were not sure what he was alluding to. “That is to say, I’m seventeen, and you’re nearly sixteen, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Fifteen and a half.”

Continuing to smile at him, she began to hoist the bucket up from the well, and he took hold of the rope, brushing her hand as he did so. She blushed, and he said, “Pardon me. Would you like some assistance?”

“If you don’t mind,” she replied, letting go the rope, and running her hands along her frock again.

Still feeling the warmth on his hand where he had made contact with hers, Aaron lifted the bucket out of the well and emptied the contents so that the animals may drink from the nearby trough. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Aislyn said, still smiling. “Our flock has gotten much smaller lately. It isn’t such a chore to herd them as it used to be, though Mac is quite helpful, as you can see by his attentiveness.”

Aaron laughed as she gestured at the skinny black and white dog who lay in the shadow of one of the many trees that offered shade to the watering hole. “He is a hard worker indeed,” he agreed.

Aislyn glanced up at him and then away again, back toward the dog, biting at the corner of her lip as if she were about to speak, but it took her a moment to ask, “Are you plannin’ to attend the cross-roads Sunday? I don’t believe I’ve seen you there. I know you never attended when the dance master visited, but I’ve heard you are still quite the nimble performer.”

Feeling the color rise in his face, Aaron cleared his throat. While he had also heard his dancing skills were above par, he had always hesitated to attend the popular dances held every few weeks at the intersection of two nearby roads where many of the young people of his village gathered to enjoy each other’s company for fear of embarrassing himself in front of Aislyn. Kian was always ribbing him, saying he should come and look the fool if it be so; at least he’d have an opportunity to speak to her away from church or randomly bumping into her in town—though lately these chance meetings had become much more calculated on his part. “My reputation may leave one wanting, but I had considered making an appearance.”

“Your sister, Genty, is often there. You could accompany her,” Aislyn offered as one of the sheep nudged itself against her leg.

“Perhaps I could accompany you.” Aaron was a bit taken aback at his own boldness, and as Aislyn’s cheeks turned a light pink, he heard Ms. Sutton break into laughter on the other side of the well.

They both turned to face her, and she said, “Aw to be young again! If I’d known then what I know now—that Tommy Lynch would be the only one to ever ask for my hand—I’d have married that ox of a man before Peggy Monahan snatched him up. Listen to the words of an old woman, little lass, you’ve got a fine lookin’ young man in the McReynolds lad here. Don’t be foolish like me. You’ll regret it someday when you’ve only a skinny cow and a lazy dog to call your own.” And with that, the buxom woman took the lead on said cow and began to teeter away back toward her home, the yellow dog she’d referred to following at her heels.

Aislyn broke into a fit of giggles, and seeing her genuinely joyful, Aaron began to laugh, too. Her laughter continued until, in an effort to keep from losing her balance and toppling over, Aislyn rested her hand on his chest, and with her touch, Aaron regained his composure, the feel of her warm palm permeating through his shirt. Her other hand was resting atop the well, just inches from his own, and realizing they were now alone, he slid his hand over a bit to rest on top of hers.

She suddenly became quite serious as well. Her green eyes flickered from her own hand where it rested near his shoulder back to his eyes, and though she looked hesitant, she did not pull away. With his other hand, he reached up and encircled her delicate fingers so that her hand was confined to his chest. He said nothing, only looked into her eyes and smiled. This was by far the closest to her he’d ever been.

Aislyn returned the smile, though she couldn’t maintain the eye contact, and blushing, dropped her gaze to her own boots. “I’d love to attend with you, Aaron,” she said glancing up to him. “I’m not sure what my Ma will say. Perhaps we should meet there.”

“I do believe your Ma is partial to me,” he reminded her, readjusting their hands that still rested on the well so that their fingers were intertwined. “She always speaks to me at mass, and she’s yet to chase me off your property with a broom whenever I stop to say hello.”

The giggling had returned, and she wore the pink blush again. Aaron brought her other hand up to meet the one resting on his chest so that both of her hands were clasped between his. “She is fond of you,” Aislyn admitted. “It’s only that I am her last child living at home, and I fear she’ll miss me if I… leave.”

Aaron felt his heart catch in his chest at the realization that she’d been about to say “marry” instead of “leave,” an indication that she may actually be willing to become his wife. Though he’d hoped and prayed for such an outcome for longer than he could remember, the idea that she might potentially become his one day in the not so distant future made him feel lighter than air. He couldn’t help but grin at her, and though he wanted to acknowledge her words, no sentences would form.

“What is it?” Aislyn asked, eyeing him cautiously, though she still smiled. “Have I said something peculiar?”

“No,” he assured her. “Not at all. I will be more than happy to meet you at the cross-roads on Sunday evening.”

Her smile reached her eyes, which twinkled with glee. “Good. Then I shall take Ms. Sutton’s advice and consider myself a lucky lass.”

“Aye, and I shall know for certain that there isn’t a man in all of Ireland as fortunate as I,” Aaron replied watching the pink turn to crimson and turn the exposed skin above her chest a telling red, which began to crawl up her exquisite neck.

“You make me blush, Mr. McReynolds,” she said, dropping her eyes.

“Who is being too formal now?” he asked. Momentarily releasing her hand, he brushed a fine strand of red behind her ear, and as he did so, his knuckles kissed her cheek. Though it was nothing more than a fleeting glance, he now knew for certain that her skin was as soft as silk. Recapturing her hand, he returned it to its former position, just above his heart.

Aislyn surveyed their surroundings, and though no one approached, her sheep were beginning to wander, the dog unconcerned. “I should be going,” she said, her voice revealing that she was truly in no hurry to do so.

“If you must,” Aaron replied softly, unwilling to release her just yet.

“The day grows long, and we’ve much to do,” she reminded him, though her feet did not shift and her fingers were still interlaced with his.

With a sigh, he replied, “Then I shall release you to your duties, my sweet Aislyn.” He let go of her hands, but they lingered on his chest for a moment before she leaned forward, her head tipped down, her eyes closed, and took a deep breath. Even as she began to step backward, she did not open her eyes, and Aaron watched in wonder at the marvel of the beautiful young lady who unfathomably seemed almost as enraptured with him as he was with her.

“I shall see you soon,” she said with a small smile as she placed her hands behind her back and turned to go.

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he watched her walk away, hoping that the sheep either knew their part and went along, or she realized she’d forgotten them before she made it all the way home. The dog continued to rest in the shade, though it did appear to Aaron that he was also smiling.