"Excuse me. Do you hire foreigners here?" An American voice asked the burly red headed bookshop keeper. Looking over his novel, he saw a young woman, maybe twenty years old. She was a back packer who was staying in the hostel down the lane. Many came through the little village, spend their money on food, drink and lodging before moving on.
"I hire who wants to work." His thick, Irish accent sounded from behind the book. He never took notice of the foreigners. They rarely came into his bookshop long enough to be noticed.
"I want to work." She spoke with eagerness in her voice. Cocking up an eyebrow, the man lowered his book to the counter. She was dressed like a back packer too. Dark cargo pants with pockets fill with useful things. A puffy jacket of a bright color. Hiking boots that were starting to get comfortable. She was a petite thing with a thick braid of unnatural colored hair. Her eyes were as dark as fresh coffee.
"Well, lass. How long are you willing to work? I don't need someone just for a few days. I need something more permanent." The man lifted the book back to his face. That is why he never pay attention to the back packers, they came and went with the wind.
"I will stay however long I am hired. I have no reason to move on or go back to the states." The young woman replied. The bookshop keeper lowered his book again. She interested him with her honest words. "I know my way around a bookstore. I learn quick." She continued while wringing her hands together.
"What is your name, lass?" He asked kindly.
"Tessa Rhodes."
"Well, Ms. Rhodes. I open the shop at eight in the morning for customers. Come in at 7:30. Not a minute later." The man announced, standing up. His large stature filled the small register space. He held out his hand. "I am Louis Mackey."
Tessa shook his hand. She was never a minute late.
Eight years later.
Tessa closed the bookshop right at five. She went over the purchases and deposit for the day. The little book shop had increase in profits over the years due to online selling and serving what Mr. Mackey called 'fancy pants' coffee. He would never admit to it, but he adores the gingerbread latte during the holidays.
Now, it was late spring, and the village was in bloom again. The weather is getting warmer, so Tessa took advantage of the clear day. On her bicycle, she rode from the book shop to the market to pick up her order of grocery. With them secure in her basket, she went to the tea shop. Picking up her favorite dandelion tea, she headed home.
Home was a little cottage that the local shepherd rent to her on the outskirt of the village. It was a sweet little place, just big enough for a single woman and her books. Behind the cottage was the vast woods where the town folk say the Fae Folk live. She heard the stories in her time there but pay them no mind. She did find the woods a dark and eerie place that she cared not to adventure into. She let the trees keep their secrets for she rather keep her nose in a book.
Coming home, she called hello to Alex Kelly, the shepherd. He raised his arm up as the other held a shotgun. There had been packs of wild dogs or something of that nature coming in and try to take off lambs. Tessa woke many times to hear barking follow by gun fire. It was sounds she was used to.
Putting everything away, she made ready a small meal for dinner. It was easy when it was just one dining. Many people in the village worried that she was lonely, but it was not the case. Even back in the states, she kept to herself. Always with a book in her hand to keep her company.
Back packing through Ireland was the biggest adventure she had ever plan to do. Yet, she found herself falling in love with the first village she came across with a book shop and never left. Fate was smiling down on her for she was able to get her citizenship quickly. She had no family or real friends back in the states. She found all that in the village over the years.
Cleaning up after dinner, she ready the evening tea. Her guest would soon arrive. Tessa placed a teacup of weaken dandelion tea and a small plate of crumbed biscuits on the table under the window. Situating herself in the oversized chair with the current book they were reading, she waited. A rustling of feathers with a tap, tap, tap on the open window glass alerted her to the guest. A sleek black raven stepped in. His uncharacteristic green eyes looked over to Tessa with a gently 'kraa' to her.
"Good evening to you too, Stuart. Shall we continue our story?" The raven, she named Stuart dipping his head to say yes. Tessa began to read out loud while enjoying their tea and biscuit together. This had been a nightly routine for four years now. Tessa noticed the raven sitting outside her window one evening as she read aloud. A habit she kept to work out her stuttering problem when she was a child. Tessa opened the window so the bird could hear her clearly. Eventually, the raven had come in and stand on the table while she read. She began to call him Stuart. He seemed to like the name.
The raven listened as her words began to soften and her eyes grew heavy. Soon, the book settled on her chest. The sounds of Tessa surrendering to slumber were magic to his ear. The raven jumped off the table and landed on the floor as a man wearing a cloak of raven's feathers. He was tall with broad shoulders and chest. His hair was a mix of fire and sunlight that cascaded in unruly curls about his shoulders. The features of his face were strong and chiseled. His green eyes looked at the woman who read to him every night. Under his cloak was a simple white poet shirt without the frills and black leather pants. His black knee-high boots softly clicked on the floor as he approached Tessa's sleeping form.
With his large, strong hands, he gently lifted the book off her chest. He admired her for a moment. Even in the warmest weather, Tessa love to dressed in her knit sweaters and trouser pants. Setting the bookmark at the open page, he set it down on the coffee table next to her chair. She moved slighted when Stuart gently pulled off her reading glasses. He stood still, fearing she would wake. She did not. He placed them on top of the book.
After a sprinkle of sleeping dust across her nose, Stuart picked Tessa up from her chair in his arms. It was a short walk to her bedroom, yet he was in no rush. He relished in the feeling of her close to his chest. Her hands would mindlessly caress the skin of his neck. One time he had to stop himself from moaning as her fingers ran through the ends of his hair.
Pulling back the handmade quilt and bed sheet, Stuart tucked her in like he had done a number of times now. Lightly, he pressed his lips to her temple. "Sleep well, my Tessa." He whispered in her ear. She sighed, curling up to her pillow. Looking down at her sleeping form, his eyes danced over her delicate features. Her full pink lips parted slightly as she slept. Her hair was the colors of honey and wheat that flowed down her back. Tessa's eyes were the most striking he had ever seen. Dark, nearly black with flakes of gold about them. He would lose himself in their depth as she read to him.
Leaving her was always the hardest part. He knew he should have never gotten so close. Her voice drew him in that one evening. Listening to her read from the books give him a sense of peace that he never experienced before. She was pure magic for she enchanted him so. He who was part of the Unseelie Court.
YOU ARE READING
Feather of A Raven
FantasyA young woman living in Ireland learns that the raven she had befriended over the years is more than she could have imaged.
