[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
He let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders. Ciaran didn t still
hate him after their argument last night. Adoration rushed into
his heart as his lover left the horse and approached him. He
looked so good, delicious even.
Ciaran wore his best brown slacks and a crisp, white dress
shirt. When he got to his side, he wrapped his arms around him
and buried his face in Shannon s neck. He took a deep breath.
I m sorry, Shannon.
He tightened his hold on Ciaran and rested his cheek on his
hair. It s okay. It was just a bloody strange night. All his
misgivings and strain melted away with this one simple embrace.
He lifted his head to peer into his face. Did your da say
anything?
No. He doesn t remember a bloody thing. Loosening his
grip, Ciaran pulled apart from him. His hands hung on
Shannon s hips. A wide grin spread on his face. He was so
bloody pissed last night, he s still having a hard time getting
around.
Will he be going to church with us then? Shannon scanned
Ciaran s face. Maybe they d get to be alone. He wanted to keep
him all to himself for as long as he could.
Think so. He is getting dressed, at least. Letting go of
Shannon s hips, Ciaran leaned forward for a quick kiss.
Desire flooded his veins. Heat grew in his groin. No, not now.
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Christie Gordon
He couldn t risk it. Feigning a cough, he remembered his hasty
departure from his house. Ciaran, do you think I could clean up
here?
Ciaran gazed at him with a puzzled expression. Why? He
ran his fingers along Shannon s cheek. You re a bit stubbly, but
you look clean enough.
He bowed his head. I didn t get a chance at home. My ma
started in on me. She gave me the whole you need to find a girl
talk. Sadness threaded through his voice. Why couldn t his
parents be more like Ciaran s?
And what did you tell her? Did you tell her you already had
one? Reaching out, Ciaran grabbed his hand. He swung it
playfully between them.
He grinned, giving Ciaran a shy look. No. Why did his
mother have to set him up with that woman? Should he tell him?
She set me up with a girl from Johnstown Bridge. I m supposed
to call on her. The words tumbled out of him.
Ciaran s gaze roamed over him and a quizzical expression
swept over his face. And you won t, will you?
He let out a nervous chuckle. No, of course not. I mean, not
unless she makes me.
She won t make you. Ciaran relaxed his stance then, pursed
his lips. Even so, you wouldn t, right? He eyed him with
suspicion.
He shrugged. I don t know. If my ma really presses me on it,
I suppose I ll have to. Why did Ciaran want to dwell on this? He
was beginning to be sorry he d said anything.
Ciaran faced him. Pain hung on his face and hurt filled his
eyes. You can t. You re with me now. I don t care what your ma
says or does, you don t have to go along with it.
A realization came over him. He squeezed Ciaran s hand.
Are you jealous?
158
A Summer Without Rain
Turning away from him, Ciaran tore his hand out of his grasp.
No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of some girl you ve
never met?
Look at me, Ciaran.
Ciaran stood his ground.
Reaching out, he tugged on Ciaran s arm, forcing him back
around.
Hurt and anger rested on his face.
He let his eyes take in the full meaning behind what he saw.
You know I only love you. I d never, ever, do anything with
anyone else. Do I actually have to say those words? It didn t
seem real.
Ciaran s expression softened and he grabbed both of
Shannon s hands in his as if to plead with him. I know, but I still
don t want you calling on anyone. A faint grin played on his
face. Except me.
Yeah, okay. If it made him feel better, he d go along. Can I
please get cleaned up now? We ll be late.
Ciaran waited in the cart while Shannon held the front door
to the house open for Mr. O Kelly.
Thank you, Shannon. You re such a pleasure to have
around. A pained grin hung on Mr. O Kelly s face and he walked
with forced steps to the waiting cart. Wrinkles littered his black
suit and the undocked tail of his white shirt peeked out from
under his black belt.
Following Mr. O Kelly, he helped him onto the bench seat
next to Ciaran. He climbed in the back and sat behind them,
facing backward.
Ciaran gave the reigns a quick flick and the horse took off
down the drive.
During the ten-minute ride into town, he anticipated the
159
Christie Gordon
uneasiness of sitting in church. It seemed, even in a place where
judgments should be withheld, they still ridiculed him. His body
jolted in the back of the cart as it bumped over a pothole in the
road.
The three of them plodded along in silence into town.
He smiled as they passed the drugstore where Ciaran bought
his book for the trip. Ciaran didn t get much time to read it. He
was too busy paying attention to him.
The cart pulled up through an old cemetery, over a gravel
drive and to the front of the church.
Townspeople milled about and a pair of men in their finest
Sunday clothes came to great Mr. O Kelly.
He stood and looked over the men. He didn t recognize them
as they helped Mr. O Kelly from the cart. He jumped from the
cart and turned his attentions to assisting Ciaran with hitching the
horse.
Thanks, Shannon. Ciaran gave him an intentional glance
while they walked from the now-tethered horse through dry grass
and moldy gravestones.
You re welcome. Always glad to be of service. His mood
lifted. With Ciaran s love, strength and self-assurance wrapped
around him like a warm blanket. He wasn t so alone anymore.
He had all of him and everyone else be damned. For the first time
since the traumatic discovery of the molestation, he held his head
up high and met the condescending stares and glances thrust his
way head on.
The small church of their town was a stone cathedral, dating
back a few hundred years. A vine, probably as old as the church
itself, scaled the walls steadily over the decades to shroud a good
portion of it in glossy, heart-shaped leaves. He looked up in
amazement at the church s square tower and spires sitting atop
each corner over the entrance.
160
A Summer Without Rain
After climbing a short set of stone steps to an open red door,
he stepped inside. His gaze registered the graceful curves of the
tall windows. As he walked into the church beside his lover, he
gazed over the numerous rich paintings of Christ and Mother
Mary lining the walls. To think someone actually took the time to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
He let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders. Ciaran didn t still
hate him after their argument last night. Adoration rushed into
his heart as his lover left the horse and approached him. He
looked so good, delicious even.
Ciaran wore his best brown slacks and a crisp, white dress
shirt. When he got to his side, he wrapped his arms around him
and buried his face in Shannon s neck. He took a deep breath.
I m sorry, Shannon.
He tightened his hold on Ciaran and rested his cheek on his
hair. It s okay. It was just a bloody strange night. All his
misgivings and strain melted away with this one simple embrace.
He lifted his head to peer into his face. Did your da say
anything?
No. He doesn t remember a bloody thing. Loosening his
grip, Ciaran pulled apart from him. His hands hung on
Shannon s hips. A wide grin spread on his face. He was so
bloody pissed last night, he s still having a hard time getting
around.
Will he be going to church with us then? Shannon scanned
Ciaran s face. Maybe they d get to be alone. He wanted to keep
him all to himself for as long as he could.
Think so. He is getting dressed, at least. Letting go of
Shannon s hips, Ciaran leaned forward for a quick kiss.
Desire flooded his veins. Heat grew in his groin. No, not now.
157
Christie Gordon
He couldn t risk it. Feigning a cough, he remembered his hasty
departure from his house. Ciaran, do you think I could clean up
here?
Ciaran gazed at him with a puzzled expression. Why? He
ran his fingers along Shannon s cheek. You re a bit stubbly, but
you look clean enough.
He bowed his head. I didn t get a chance at home. My ma
started in on me. She gave me the whole you need to find a girl
talk. Sadness threaded through his voice. Why couldn t his
parents be more like Ciaran s?
And what did you tell her? Did you tell her you already had
one? Reaching out, Ciaran grabbed his hand. He swung it
playfully between them.
He grinned, giving Ciaran a shy look. No. Why did his
mother have to set him up with that woman? Should he tell him?
She set me up with a girl from Johnstown Bridge. I m supposed
to call on her. The words tumbled out of him.
Ciaran s gaze roamed over him and a quizzical expression
swept over his face. And you won t, will you?
He let out a nervous chuckle. No, of course not. I mean, not
unless she makes me.
She won t make you. Ciaran relaxed his stance then, pursed
his lips. Even so, you wouldn t, right? He eyed him with
suspicion.
He shrugged. I don t know. If my ma really presses me on it,
I suppose I ll have to. Why did Ciaran want to dwell on this? He
was beginning to be sorry he d said anything.
Ciaran faced him. Pain hung on his face and hurt filled his
eyes. You can t. You re with me now. I don t care what your ma
says or does, you don t have to go along with it.
A realization came over him. He squeezed Ciaran s hand.
Are you jealous?
158
A Summer Without Rain
Turning away from him, Ciaran tore his hand out of his grasp.
No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of some girl you ve
never met?
Look at me, Ciaran.
Ciaran stood his ground.
Reaching out, he tugged on Ciaran s arm, forcing him back
around.
Hurt and anger rested on his face.
He let his eyes take in the full meaning behind what he saw.
You know I only love you. I d never, ever, do anything with
anyone else. Do I actually have to say those words? It didn t
seem real.
Ciaran s expression softened and he grabbed both of
Shannon s hands in his as if to plead with him. I know, but I still
don t want you calling on anyone. A faint grin played on his
face. Except me.
Yeah, okay. If it made him feel better, he d go along. Can I
please get cleaned up now? We ll be late.
Ciaran waited in the cart while Shannon held the front door
to the house open for Mr. O Kelly.
Thank you, Shannon. You re such a pleasure to have
around. A pained grin hung on Mr. O Kelly s face and he walked
with forced steps to the waiting cart. Wrinkles littered his black
suit and the undocked tail of his white shirt peeked out from
under his black belt.
Following Mr. O Kelly, he helped him onto the bench seat
next to Ciaran. He climbed in the back and sat behind them,
facing backward.
Ciaran gave the reigns a quick flick and the horse took off
down the drive.
During the ten-minute ride into town, he anticipated the
159
Christie Gordon
uneasiness of sitting in church. It seemed, even in a place where
judgments should be withheld, they still ridiculed him. His body
jolted in the back of the cart as it bumped over a pothole in the
road.
The three of them plodded along in silence into town.
He smiled as they passed the drugstore where Ciaran bought
his book for the trip. Ciaran didn t get much time to read it. He
was too busy paying attention to him.
The cart pulled up through an old cemetery, over a gravel
drive and to the front of the church.
Townspeople milled about and a pair of men in their finest
Sunday clothes came to great Mr. O Kelly.
He stood and looked over the men. He didn t recognize them
as they helped Mr. O Kelly from the cart. He jumped from the
cart and turned his attentions to assisting Ciaran with hitching the
horse.
Thanks, Shannon. Ciaran gave him an intentional glance
while they walked from the now-tethered horse through dry grass
and moldy gravestones.
You re welcome. Always glad to be of service. His mood
lifted. With Ciaran s love, strength and self-assurance wrapped
around him like a warm blanket. He wasn t so alone anymore.
He had all of him and everyone else be damned. For the first time
since the traumatic discovery of the molestation, he held his head
up high and met the condescending stares and glances thrust his
way head on.
The small church of their town was a stone cathedral, dating
back a few hundred years. A vine, probably as old as the church
itself, scaled the walls steadily over the decades to shroud a good
portion of it in glossy, heart-shaped leaves. He looked up in
amazement at the church s square tower and spires sitting atop
each corner over the entrance.
160
A Summer Without Rain
After climbing a short set of stone steps to an open red door,
he stepped inside. His gaze registered the graceful curves of the
tall windows. As he walked into the church beside his lover, he
gazed over the numerous rich paintings of Christ and Mother
Mary lining the walls. To think someone actually took the time to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]