Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure by Larry Forkner (summer books .TXT) 📗

of time here, Sean felt an odd sense of homecoming, when they pulled into the driveway of Eamon and Ashling’s home. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“It does feel good to be home, doesn’t it, Sean?”

He was about to agree when he realized she had read his thoughts about this feeling like home.

“Hey, no mind-reading–remember?” he said, glaring at her.

“I said I wouldn’t read your mind without your permission, barring a life-threatening emergency. Why would you doubt my word when you promised to trust me?”

Sean could feel the undercurrent of hurt feelings in Ashling’s question. “If you didn’t read my mind, then how did you know I was thinking about this place feeling like home?”

“To put it mildly, you sometimes broadcast your feelings like the public announcer at a Denver Broncos football game,” she said patiently.

“Now I have two questions to ask,” Sean said, smiling at her.

“I’m listening,” she said, giving a small smile in return.

“What do you mean by broadcasting my thoughts?” he asked.

“And the second question?”

“How in the world do you know about the Denver Broncos?” he asked, shaking his head in amazement.

“I’ll answer the second one first, since it is by far the easiest to explain. Over the past few years, I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the mortal world. One of the mortal women I became friends with was a huge Broncos fan. At first I thought it was a silly game, but I must confess that by the time I left Denver I too had become a loyal Bronco fan. ‘Tis a shame Peyton was already married. Otherwise I may have put a love spell upon him when he retired.”

He laughed and said, “I’m a Cowboys fan, but trust me when I say I can relate to being that loyal to your team.”

“Good enough. Now to the other question. When your magical gifts begin to manifest, they are often a bit out of control. The ability to master your powers takes time and experience. In the meantime, try not to think any outrageous or inappropriate thoughts about anyone in town. If you do, believe me, many of them will hear you loud and clear.”

“I may be better at it than you think, Ashling. When I was staying at your home, I may have had a few romantic thoughts about you that could be considered inappropriate by some people. Obviously, I was able to keep those thoughts to myself,” he said proudly.

“A few of those thoughts were well beyond inappropriate, Sean,” she said, laughing. “It’s okay,” she added. “A rare beauty like me hears them all the time.”

Sean was sure he was turning beet red again, when he looked at her and said, “If you promise to never bring this subject up again, then I won’t mention the obvious lack of humility on your part. Bragging about being a rare beauty, indeed.”

“And yet it was just this morning when you were thinking those exact thoughts about me. You can see how it might be difficult to stay humble,” she added, laughing.

“Okay, I surrender! You are a rare beauty, as anyone with eyes can see. Now, can we change the subject?

“If you insist,” she replied. “Besides, my Da’ is standing at the front door waving for us to come in.”

They stepped out of the SUV, grabbed their overnight bags, and headed for the front door. When they were within speaking distance, Ashling waved and said, “It’s good to be back, Da’.”

“And I see you’ve brought some fine company to our humble abode,” Eamon said. “Sean, it’s a great pleasure to see you,” he added, as he stepped forward and held out his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well, sir,” Sean said sincerely, as he reached out to shake Eamon’s hand.

Just before he could grasp Eamon’s hand, Ashling’s father disappeared from sight. When Sean turned to Ashling in confusion and shock, her luggage and coat were there beside him, but she too was gone.

Chapter Eight

Here’s to lying, stealing, and cheating!

May you lie to save a friend;

May you steal the heart of the one you love;

and may you always cheat death.

~ Old Irish Saying ~

Sean remained standing where he was for several minutes, feeling like he’d turned to stone. He looked around, hoping some explanation might be forthcoming. Even better, he wished one, or both, Eamon and Ashling would reappear.

He stood there for another five minutes, unsure what to do next. When neither of them returned, he shook off his shock and forced himself to act. Sean grabbed Ashling’s coat and luggage, along with his own, and hurried into the house.

The only thing he could think to do was try to find someone who might be able to help. His mind focused on all the folks he’d met in town without settling on anyone to ask for help. Suddenly, Ailbe’s caramel-colored eyes came to mind, and he felt like she and her grandfather, Aengus, were the right folks to ask for help.

He drove out to their farmhouse at top speed, grateful there didn’t appear to be any traditional police in Rundimahair. When he pulled into the driveway of their beautifully preserved farmhouse, he saw Ailbe jump up from her chair on the front porch.

By the time he was out of the car, Ailbe was there, throwing her arms around him. “It is you, Sean!” she said as she held him close. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again once I heard you’d left town.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her exuberant nature as he said, “I didn’t really expect to be back either, but here I am.”

“Let the poor man go before you crush his ribs, Ailbe,” her grandfather said from the porch.

Sean looked up to see Aengus smiling at him as he stood by the porch railing. “Good to see you again, young man,” Aengus said.

When Sean was finally able to free himself from Ailbe’s grip, he said, “It’s a pleasure to see you