The Irish Fall: A Sweet Romantic Comedy Novel

Chapter 6 | Eyre

After a journey that involved way more walking than I thought possible, I finally started to make out some other colors in the sea of Irish greenery. As we strolled down the hill, there were suddenly bright splashes of color that invaded my field of vision and seemed to clash with the natural hues of the Irish landscape. Even though the colors of the village shops presented quite a jarring contrast to the natural greenery of the Irish countryside, their happy shades were a welcome sight to my weary eyes. It was as if I could hear Irish fiddles welcoming me, a rendition of Danny Boy playing in my mind. The village was a beacon, signifying that rest was near. This safe haven came just in time since my bones were aching like never before, and that was truly saying something. The combination of the plane ride, my emotional visit to this country, and now the very long walk with an infuriating stranger left my body exhausted and screaming. My muscles and joints howled at me, and the words they shouted were not family-friendly.

As we neared the village, the outline of cottages with thatched roofs came more clearly into view. My new craving for the Irish world urged me to focus my attention on this spot so as to forever ingrain it in my memory. Doolin was reminiscent of a Wes Anderson film. That vibrant Grand Budapest Hotel pink color caught my eye immediately as we started to walk toward a row of colorful shops. This must be their main street. Each building displayed a new vivid color that my eyes hungered to see.

I looked at Darby, expecting him to say something.

"What?" he said, looking at me. "I got you this far. You seriously need me to hold your hand the rest of the way?"

I looked at him with my mouth slightly open, dropping even further in his silence.

His next comment unnerved me even more. "Really, how were you going to make it in a foreign country?" My eyes widened in response, and then he laughed. "Alright, alright. I wasn't ever gonna just leave you. Calm down. Hold onto your knickers."

He took my hand for the first time, and his touch caught me completely by surprise, especially after the words he had just uttered. A warmth melted over me. Darby used his touch to direct me down the road toward the stone bridge. And while his hand was calloused and rough, his touch was surprisingly gentle and warm. Not what I had expected, but it seemed to echo his personality. My vision wandered over the peaceful stream flowing under the bridge that led to a vast expanse of open water in the distance. It was absolutely glorious. I couldn't decide what to explore with my eyes first. Darby seemed to notice the change in my mood. He tightened his hold on my hand in appreciation of my response.

"This is Doolin, my hometown," he said with a slight gleam of pride. "I need to stop by the tour shop first. The owner will certainly know better than I about a place for you to stay." He continued to look straight ahead, but there was a sign of compassion on his face that was undeniable. Chink. The sound resonated in my mind.

"Thank you," I said, more quietly than I'd meant to say. His face automatically turned toward mine and his smile found me. Our feet continued to strike the pavement as we passed shops filled with Irish charm and whimsical mementos. I scanned their windows with excitement, the reality of yesterday's decisions finally catching up to me. My right shoulder ached and complained with each step I took. The oversized purse I used to carry essentials dug into my shoulder with a wicked bite.

"Almost there," Darby said as if he could sense my growing discomfort. I was beginning to wonder if he'd noticed my waning energy on our walk. I was hoping he hadn't noticed my struggle to keep moving. Although, I'm not sure how he could have missed it. He couldn't be that unobservant. Truthfully, I was already in pain when we started our journey. Now, I was in need of a bed. Urgently. I was praying there was one available in this village.