I know that this update is really late, therefore I have made it rather long :) This week had been a complete mess of wonderful experiences and some of the lowest moments I can remember and because of that I will make up for the middle week update by updating twice this weekend!
Kean
I nod my hello and excuse myself to go get Pandemonium's Surprise. The three horses we are showing are tacked and waiting by the track with two exercise riders and a groom. I take Surprise with a nod of thanks, Surprise looks at me with slightly startled eyes and I run a soothing hand over her forehead. She was, as her name suggests, a surprise; Pandemonium knocked down the boards of his paddock and got loose and eleven months later Surprise was born.
Marissa walks over to Missy and takes her from the exercise rider with the claim of, "I'll show this one, I love this little filly."
I grit my teeth and check my girth as the buyers flock to Marissa as she spouts off lies about how much effort she put into the filly that I trained. I swing up ready to get this run over with, we are just going the quarter mile and Surprise is amped knowing what is to come, she loves to run. When Marissa is on Missy and Jacob is on Card I signal for the groom and other exercise rider to bring us through the gate. When the groom grabs Surprise's head she prances forward shying away from a shadow in her excitement but goes easily into the gate, Card follows and Missy balks and shies from the gate that she has been through hundreds of times before, finally she loads as well.
Allard calls a countdown, the gates snap open, the horses spring forward and their hooves are eating up the dirt. This is not supposed to be a race, the buyers are just looking to see how the horses run but Missy pulls up beside me and one glance in Marissa's direction tells me that this just got serious.
She pushes Missy by us taking the rail, I bite my cheek before letting Surprise have more rein, allowing her to move out. Marissa is in front of us but I am not too concerned. The colt and two fillies are evenly matched however the riders are not; Marissa has not ridden the track in over a year, the rider Jacob is new and has only run it a handful of times and I have run on it almost every day for the last twelve years of my life. I know every divot, rut and shadow that they try to jump in the morning sun. I also know Surprise, Missy and Card; Card is the most consistent of the bunch through the whole run, Missy likes to tire herself out in the beginning if you don't hold her back and Surprise likes to act lazy and come from behind. I let the filly tail the other for a bit before leaning forward, throwing her head away and cracking her rump letting her know it was time to make our move. I keep her off the rail away from the telephone pole shadow that Missy balks at slowing then trying to jump as we sail forward crossing the finish line first by seven lengths.
I slow Surprise to a canter and turn with a grin. Marissa thunders in behind me with a look of annoyance and is followed closely by Jacob.
Breena
Last night when Declan had me invite Kean for supper I hadn't really thought about the implications of that request or all the work I would have to do. When the dust the truck kicks up in Declan's wake settles I look around the house with a bud of dread blooming in my gut. It had been a long time since housekeeping had been on the top of my to-do list and it showed. The sink was piled with dishes that we never had time to do – we simply washed what we needed when we needed it – the counters were a mess of papers, junk and boxes, the table was piled with bills we couldn't pay, the floor was dingy and coats and sweaters hung from the back of each chair and that was just the kitchen. A sigh rushes past my lips and I yell for Fiona, it looks like I will spend the day cleaning.
Fiona thumps into the room from down the hall, Scottie at her feet, "What do you want?"
"I need help cleaning," I tell her watching her face fall, "we are having company tonight."
She huffs and stomps a foot but asks what I need help with so I set her to work on the dishes while I look into sorting through the bills on the table. I grab two empty cardboard boxes from the counter and label them "paid" and "not paid" the "not paid" box piles up faster than the other. Granted we are keeping the farm afloat and live fairly simply but only just barely; the feed bills were always paid on time or just over because the animals are our lively hood, without them there will be no income at all. However the oil bill is often pushed aside as is the electric, we make a real effort with the water bill and the payments we have to make for the barn renovations from last year but we are really strapped for cash until the spring's lamb crop comes around. Once the bills are sorted I take all the sweaters, shirts, jackets and other random article of clothing lying around and throw them in the wash, by then Fiona is done with the dishes and starting on the counters. Together we work quickly but when twelve o'clock rolls around she chirps a goodbye and flits out the door leaving me to the rest of the mess.
I rub my temples feeling the headache starting at the base of my skull but I scoop up another pile to sort through anyway. Most of it is trash, old school papers I was too lazy to throw out after I graduated. I grab the next one but jerk my hand back as a paper cut stings my pointer finger, I bring it to my lips sucking on it for a moment and carefully picking up the culprit. It is a glossy cardstock pamphlet advertising a University on the mainland, my finger drops from my mouth as I trace the glossy words.
I have never wanted to leave the island; Teelin is as much a part of me as my blood. I cannot imagine living without the little towns, the moors, the rolling hills, the craggy cliffs, the ocean spray or even the Fey. I love the island, nowhere else would ever really be home to me; sure if things were different I wouldn't mind traveling a bit just to see the world but just as north pulls to south the island will always pull me home.
Declan however does not feel the same, he like many of the youth of the island feel as if they are trapped and claustrophobic. They want to leave for many reasons; some want to get away from the Fey, some want a more urban life and cushy jobs and some believe that the world out there is bigger and better. Declan always wanted to go away to school; as soon as he started his junior year of high school he started working for the McFarlane's to start saving for school. When he graduated he took more hours and we saw him less and less as he saved, this was the year he was going to start applying but our father ruined that for him. He had to stay to help us and instead of paying for his education he is paying our feed bills. But this pamphlet makes me wonder; will he leave us. I want to say no but this is his dream and if he gets the chance he may follow it and as much as it will hurt me I won't be able to fault him.
With those morbid thoughts playing in my mind I decide a short ride will help make things better however when I get to Caleo she is off on her right front. With a sigh I bring her in picking out each foot, I am fairly certain she has an abscess in her right front. I soak it, pack it with a drawing salve and wrap it leaving her in her stall for the rest of the day; there is nothing else to do but to wait for it to blow. With the chances of riding gone and dark thoughts in my mind I trudge back through the screen door to finish cleaning.
By the time Declan and Fiona pull in the driveway the living room and kitchen are picked up, dusted, swept, the floors are mopped and appliances wiped down, there is a fire in the fireplace and the radio crackles and picks up one of the four radio stations we receive. Declan offers to bring in the sheep and cows tonight but I know that is just an excuse not to cook. He plunks a pork loin on the counter wrapped in a butcher's bag and ducks out the door as quick as you like leaving me to try to cook something edible.
Fifteen minutes later I have the pork seasoned with some of the common spices we still have in our cabinet and I'm shoving it in the oven. I figure mashed potatoes will go well with the pork so I set about boiling a pot of water and peeling the potatoes. By the time I hear a knock at the door Declan and Fiona are playing go fish in the living room, the pork is almost done and I've just finished the potatoes. Brushing a chunk of hair out of my eyes I go to the door surprised to see Johnny Carver at the door instead of Kean.
"Ooh, something smells good," he says grinning down at me, "when's dinner?"
Baffled I tell him soon and step aside to let him in. He goes straight to the living room and plops down next to Declan on the couch. Declan and Johnny have been friends since their first day of school when Johnny gave Declan half of his cookie that had fallen on the floor. While Johnny came to our house every once in a while he and Declan usually hung around at Johnny's house which was closer to town. Since our parents' deaths I haven't seen much of Johnny at the house.
I shut the door and walk back to the living room, Declan grins up at me, "I invited Johnny, I hope you don't mind."
I roll my eyes; there wasn't much I can do about it now anyway, "You're just lucky I made extra."
Declan and Johnny grin up at me with identical troublemaking smiles that they always wear when they are together. Fiona laughs at them and tells our brother to go fish bringing their attention back into the game.
The ringing of the stove's timer calls me back to the kitchen to stick the meat thermometer into the pork to check that it's done cooking. On the way I stop at the clock to check the time; half past seven, I bite at my lip, maybe Kean isn't coming after all, the timer rings out again jolting me from my thoughts. I jog to the kitchen and pull the pork out of the oven switching off the stove as I do. I cut the meat into slices and decide that I better put it on the table last lest the boys eat it all before I sit down.
I am just putting the plates and silverware at the table when a knock comes from the front door once more. "I got it," Fiona yells and I hear the thump of her feet as she rushes to the door, it creaks open and I hear murmured conversation. My heart beat picks up slightly surprising me as it does. I shake my head and move to the entryway.
I lean against the wall and watch as Fiona lets Kean in and shuts the door behind him. She chatters to him excitedly, "I'm really glad you came, Breena never has people over and I bet she would have moped all night if you hadn't come."
Kean looks up smiling slightly as he meets my eyes, "Is that so?" Fiona nods vigorously. "Well then I'm glad I could help you, it's no fun when Bree mopes," Kean adds raising an eye brow at me.
Fiona follows his gaze and notices me standing there for the first time, Bree, she mouths grinning slyly at me. I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at her and she flounces away into the living room laughing, she is nothing but trouble.
I look up at Kean again motioning for him to follow me into the kitchen, "Sorry about Fiona, she feels the need to be in everyone's business."
He waves his hand, "I don't mind, sorry I'm late though, Marissa was being a pain and it took me longer to pacify her than I anticipated."
I nod like I know what he's talking about though I don't, "Don't worry about it I just finished everything a minute ago anyway. You can put your jacket on the hook by the back door if you want," I tell him as I grab enough cups for all of us.
He shrugs his coat off and goes to hang it but I take a second glance at it and snatch it from his hand. It's stiff and stained with dried blood and salt water, "I'll throw this in the washer," I tell him handing him the cups, "You put these on the table."
He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, "You don't have to do that, it's fine really."
I shake my head and hold up the jacket, "When is the last time you washed this?"
He bites his lip, "I don't know."
I roll my eyes, "Than I'm washing it," I turn and head for the stairs to the basement.
"Wait," he calls after me, "at least let me get everything out of my pockets first."
I trade him the jacket for the cups again and set them on the table while he clears out his pockets.
"Your friend here?" Declan asks.
"Friend?" Johnny pipes up beside him, "Breena has a friend? When did that happen?"
I ignore Johnny, "He's here and I expect you two to play nice," I give the two older boys a stink eye before heading back to the kitchen. I grab the stained blue jacket out of Kean's hand and head to the basement. The jacket truly is disgusting, I dump it in the washer with half a box of baking soda, detergent and fabric softener, I'll have to lend Kean one of dad's old jackets because it is going to take several washes to get this thing clean.
Upstairs I find everyone around the table, Johnny and Declan already digging into the meal and Fiona drilling Kean from where she sat to his left. I plop into the seat to his right and begin to serve myself.
"Are you really one of the Faeries?" Fiona asks, "because that's what one of the kids I go to school with said. He said that no one could do the things you do if they were just human."
I cut a glare her way, of course Kean's been here five minutes and my sister is already insulting him. However she ignores me and continues to gaze curiously up at Kean who takes a sip of water seeming to ponder his answer.
Finally he says, "I am not one of the Fey however I do know quite a bit about them, for instance if I were a Fey creature I would not be able to do this," he reaches over and pulls my iron rod from my pocket twirling it between his fingers. "It would burn me on contact," he wiggles the fingers of his left hand at her, "My rings would as well, they too are iron."
Fiona nods satisfied with his answer and goes back to pushing around her potatoes.
Kean pushes the rod back to me, I snatch it up and put it in my pocket, "I'm glad to see you're still carrying that," he tells me.
"I learned my lesson about lacking iron," I tell him with a smile.
"Oi," Johnny says finally looking up from his food long enough to speak, "Aren't you the bloke who races that big grey Aughisky?"
Kean raises a dark eye brow, "I suppose I am."
Johnny's eyes widen, "Say how much does it pay to win those races? It can't be too hard to do, I'm sure I could catch one of those water horses and all and I could use some cash." Tact is not Johnny's strong point
Kean's eyes narrow, "It pays well enough for me to feed my mount. The Races are not a game and they are not for the weak of heart. There are no rules, the men are dangerous and the horses even more so. Even just their day to day care is dangerous and tricky, they do not bend to bit and saddle willingly, you do not want to mix yourself up in that sport."
Johnny – who can never take anything seriously – simply rolls his eyes and waves away the warning, "Just grab some iron and bells and your good to go, any untrained horse is dangerous but I've handled my fair share of those. A few cuts and bruises don't bother me," he laughs.
Kean appears to hold an internal debate before answering, "A few cuts and bruises? You'd be lucky to make it through a feeding with just a few cuts and bruises," his laugh is as hard as the iron he carries. "Would you like to see what happens when an Aughisky gets angry?" Kean carefully unbuttons the first three buttons on his shirt and pulls it away from his right shoulder revealing a mass of bloodied gauze surrounded by bruised skin. "Their teeth are not blunt like those of a land horse, they are sharp and deadly and all it takes is a second's lapse of attention and they will bury their teeth in you before you can move." He calmly fixes his shirt and looks at Johnny, "You don't want to get mixed up with those animals, trust me."
Johnny nods mutely, it is the first time I have ever seen him speechless.
Surprisingly the rest of the dinner passes pleasantly; Johnny and Declan seem to have found some respect for Kean and despite their earlier rudeness Kean is polite the entire time. It is the first time in almost a year that this house feels full.
After dinner Kean declines Declan's invitation for a game of cards and helps me to clear the table and wash the dishes. As I push the container of leftover mashed potatoes into the fridge I glance over at Kean; he looks so out of place in my little kitchen, elbow deep in soapy water, but he catches my eye and smiles. He goes to lift the heavy pork pan with his right hand and his smile falters, falling into a grimace as it strains the torn muscles in his chewed up shoulder.
I bump the fridge shut with my hip and grab his left arm to pull him away from the sink, "When did you last change that bandage?" I ask.
He bites his lip, "Yesterday morning, I meant to change it this morning but I got busy."
'Men, no matter how old or capable they are become children when taking care of themselves,' that's what my mother always said when patching up a sprained wrist for my father or a skinned knee for my brother.