On Fallen Wings (18 page)

Ethan nodded his agreement. Sean reached under the table and gently squeezed my hand. Tiny sparks of silliness tingled their way through me and into my breath. It felt like the first time we touched. I refused to speak and risk spoiling the moment, but Father did it for me.

“What’s your plan today, Sean?” he asked, stretching in his chair.

Sean gulped down another drink. “I’m hoping to spend the morning here. I’d like news from the village.”

“You’ve been gone a while,” said Mother. “Half the season has passed.”

Sean nodded. “This afternoon, I’ll go home and see my father.”

I squeezed Sean’s hand.

While Sean continued to eat, we allowed the morning to pass without care, and shared tales about the last couple of months. Sean’s journey had been more of an adventure than I had expected. I was shocked from his stories of greedy strangers and dangerous places. There were villages over steep mountains, great valleys that stretched for days, and towns like DarMattey—filled with tall wagons and steaming buildings. I took it all in, every breath, absorbing his tale of the great quest to seal our future. As abruptly as he had arrived at my door, Sean stood and excused himself from the table. I pulled on his arm to remain seated, but he released my hand and retrieved his coat from the wall.

“I’m forgetting myself in the joys of company,” he said, lacing up his coat. His words were smoother, as if practice had been all that he needed. The voice that I remembered was returning. “Rhiannon, will you follow me outside?”

He didn’t need to ask. I leapt from the bench and rushed up the stairs. I grabbed my wool cloak, slipped into night slippers, and joined him near the back door. Mother and Father hugged him while Ethan and Leila stared out the window, challenging each other to find a new horse in the herd.

An icy breeze swirled into the room when Sean opened the door. He motioned for me to follow. I caught myself not breathing. Mother offered her support.

“Go on,” she whispered. “Accept your destiny.”

When I stepped outside, Sean gripped my hand in his and led me past the dining room window. I didn’t look inside; I knew that my family stood watching. I followed him, afraid to look at the meadow, refusing to spoil the surprise. To my surprise, he didn’t lead me toward the fence.

“Do you want to know where I’m taking you?” he asked, turning around. His smile flashed from beneath his beard.

I nodded, curiosity fully aroused. “I’ll go anywhere,” I told him, “if you’ll lead the way.”

“Follow me to the barn.”

The beating in my chest almost drowned his words. Pulses of excitement rushed through me. We were stepping forward together into our future.

When we arrived at the barn, he led me to the small door on the south side and stopped. He turned to face me. “Rhiannon Phillips,” he said, grabbing my free hand in his, “you are worth the journey.” He released my hands and pushed open the door.

My future was there.

I wanted to cry, to laugh, to shout for joy. I couldn’t. The moment caught me and took control. I grabbed Sean by the hand and rushed inside the barn.

“Sean,” I said, gasping at the beautiful white mare standing in front of me. “You did it.”

“She’s yours if you’ll accept us.”

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful.” I released his hand and walked slowly to the horse.

She stood perfectly white and elegant. She had a calm look, as if she had known me before, and accepted my gentle touch on her nose.

Sean stood quietly back at the door and allowed me the moment of introduction to his prize.

“What’s her name?” I asked, turning back to him.

He walked toward us, smiling. “She’s waiting for you to give her one,” he said. He stroked her behind the ears. “She likes that.”

“Maeia,” I said, rubbing her where his hand was and locking fingers with his. “I name you Maeia.”

Sean tried to speak; however, emotion seemed to hold his breath.

“Yes,” I said, answering the question in his eyes. “I’m naming her after your mother.”

His noticeable attempt to hold back his tears made mine flow freely. In the quiet warmth of the barn, on a cold Moon Season morning, Sean held me next to Maeia and we cried together.

~ O ~

We held hands as we walked across the yard back toward the house. Leila saw me first. Her face was pressed against the window. It left a steamy circle when she pulled away.

“Well?” she asked, waving her arms while opening the door. “Did he find a white horse?”

My smile revealed my answer.

Leila turned and ran back into the house without closing the door. “Mother, Father, Sean found a horse.”

Dishes clanked from the kitchen. When Sean and I entered the dining room, Mother was kneeling on the floor, collecting a handful of silver forks. Father greeted Sean like a lost relative whom he hadn’t seen in years, pulling him away from my grip and hugging him tight.

Sean kept his promise. “Ethan,” he said to my brother, “I found a white horse.”

While cheers erupted from my family, I smiled until my jaw ached; the morning was perfect. I accepted hugs and congratulations while all of us scrambled to the barn. Once there, Father took a business approach to Maeia. He inspected her thoroughly, grunting as he lifted her hoofs and checked her legs. He peered into her mouth, examined her teeth, and stared at her eyes. I watched, nervous that he would discover some flaw and announce his displeasure, as if he were trading for a fee.

Finally, he lifted his head, looked at Sean, and smiled. “Well done,” he said, patting Maeia affectionately on her neck. “She’s a beauty.”

Mother didn’t need an inspection. She wiped away tears while I told her how I named my new friend. “Neal,” she said, pulling my Father close to her. “Rhiannon has named her Maeia.”

Father nodded his agreement. “That’s a great choice,” he said. He turned to me. “Don’t you have a gift for your man?”

The excitement of the morning had eclipsed my memory of the armor. My part of the promise remained unfulfilled.

“Yes.” Blood warmed my face again. I turned to Sean, who stroked Maeia’s neck. “I have a gift for you.” I looked down, contemplating a way to make my presentation as special as he had afforded me. When the answer came, I looked up. “Will you ride with me to the lake?” I asked. “I’d like to give you my gift there.”

Mother’s approving glance reassured me that I had made a good choice.

Sean looked at me for a moment, pausing to think—I imagined. Then he answered. “Yes, I would love to.”

The next moments were a blur; Leila rushed away from the barn and ran toward the stable; Ethan left us in a flash and ran inside the house; Mother and Father accompanied Sean, Maeia, and me through the large barn doors leading to the field.

Maeia’s arrival was an oddity to the herd. Many of the horses took turns offering their skeptical greetings and displeasure at her arrival on their field. Maeia composed herself perfectly, and responded with graceful snorts and whinnies to each prying glance and shuffle. Of course, our presence next to her helped. We had raised and cared for all of the horses, and they respected us, especially my father—who demanded it. There weren’t any problems with the new arrival.

Mother was hesitant to saddle Maeia right away. Sean told her that he had ridden Maeia over the ridge, and that she was safe to ride; however, Mother looked skeptical—Sean wasn’t a master of horses. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she relented.

When we arrived at the stable, Leila was finishing the preparations on Ginger, and had placed my saddle on the top rail of the fence. Ethan stood behind the stable gate, holding the top of the bulging burlap bag—the bag I had placed the polished helmet and repaired shield for safekeeping.

“Is that it?” asked Sean, pointing to the bag. “Did you buy some armor?”

“I won’t tell you, yet,” I said, warning him with a shaking finger. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

The shape of the bag was obvious, but there was no way for Sean to know the origin of my gift. That would be my surprise. I grinned with satisfaction.

Leila prepared Maeia for our ride, and I mounted the mare without a complaint. Sean slipped onto Ginger’s back and prodded her forward. The sun was high overhead when we left the stable.

Sean did something I didn’t expect. I had turned to watch Father directing Leila and Ethan to the chores we had neglected. When I turned around, Ginger was galloping away with Sean on her back, leaving a dusty cloud in their wake. Sean wasn’t a great rider, although he was better than most men of Aisling were; I had tried to teach him. I whispered encouragement into Maeia’s ear and then, with a jolt, we sped after him.

Maeia was wind driven and swift; we caught Sean with barely an effort on her part. He had stopped his flight, appearing to concede defeat, and stared at us as we approached.

“You arrived only this morning, and want to escape as quickly?” I teased him with a wide smile.

He smiled back. “You’re beautiful when you’re riding Maeia.” He reached out and moved a lock of hair from my face. “The wind pulls your hair back, like dark flames over blowing snow.” He leaned close and kissed me.

My lips shook when he pulled away and I caught myself leaning forward. “Do you want to see your prize?” I asked, teasing him back.

Sean nodded.

“Then catch me!”

I gave a silent command to Maeia, who, as if reading my thoughts, darted forward toward the lake. I held tight to the burlap bag at my waist and gripped her reins with my other hand. I didn’t need to look back; I could hear Sean yelling desperate commands to Ginger. He had never allowed me to give up on a race, and I never let him win. I stretched my face to enjoy the breeze and the horses that had joined our chase.

The intoxication of a horseback race on an open field had always inspired me, and I allowed my thoughts to wander to the future. I dreamt of a small cottage, children in my arms, and Sean holding me next to a cozy stone fireplace. The moment was long and fulfilling, but the daydream ended as I arrived at the lake. I brought Maeia to a stop and dismounted. Maeia wandered to the shore while I waited for Sean.

He rode better that I had expected and quickly met us. “She’s fast,” he said. “No one could catch you now, not even your father.”

His compliment made me grin. I stroked Ginger’s nose while Sean climbed down. Once he was safe with two feet on the ground, I reached an arm around him and pulled him close to my side. I wanted to say something elegant and eternal; however, the moment caught me. I cried.

“What’s wrong?” he said, turning me to face him. “Did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head. I wanted to stop bawling, but couldn’t. I held him—allowing my warmth to pass to him—and soaked his coat with my tears. “I’m sorry,” I told him, “It’s not you. I’m just so happy.”

With the relief of having Sean safely back and the euphoria over his gift, my feeling finally overflowed. Sean had a bemused expression on his face that I had sometimes seen on my father’s when faced with Mother’s emotions. I would have laughed any other time, but for the moment, I reveled in the feel of Sean’s arms around me and cried with happiness. After my tears had been spent, I let go of Sean with a small hiccup and knelt to open the burlap bag.

I lifted the shield by its new leather strap. The freshly polished bronze glowed in the sunlight. The silversmith had done magnificent work; the detailed vines looked as if the shield had been handcrafted yesterday. I handed it to Sean.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

Sean’s face glowed as he turned the shield over to examine it. He placed it on his arm and posed as if I were an opponent thrusting a short sword. “It’s great,” he said. “Who made it?”

I shook away the question and reached into the bottom of the bag. I retrieved the polished helmet.

“Incredible!” Sean stepped backward. “This is wonderful workmanship, Rhiannon.”

I handed him the helmet and watched in admiration while he placed it on his head, immediately transforming into a bronze battle guard. He was my hero.

“Do you accept my gift?” I asked.

Sean grinned through his beard. “Yes, I accept it.” Then he grabbed my hand. “And now we can marry.”

I hadn’t thought it was possible to be any happier, but at Sean’s words, my heart soared.

We walked slowly along the small rounded stones lining the lake. I kept glancing back to see how Maeia would react, but she was well mannered and followed alongside Ginger. I shared my adventurous story of finding the armor, leaving out the details of my frantic exit. When I finished the tale, Sean asked me to show him the cave.

“Are you certain?” I asked, shaking my head. “It’s dark inside. We had Abigail’s Boil Stone.” I stopped walking.

“Come on,” Sean said, pulling my hand. “It’s a bright day. We can ride along the lake and choose a spot to build our future home.”

There was nothing to hold us back from marriage—no tradition, no planning, and no lack of love. I pulled him close to me.

We mounted our horses and I led him—leisurely this time—along the shore until we reached the border fence of the meadow. We skirted into the water, shouting with laughter when tiny splashes caught us in the face. From there, we resumed our journey on solid ground. The ride was fast. After passing the boat dock and the stream, we entered the overgrown forest of his family land. Dry leaves crackled under our horses’ hooves.