Snow Falls In Clover Cove: A heart-warming romance set on the beautiful west coast of Ireland by Maggie Finn

Author:Maggie Finn [Finn, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance
ISBN: 9781911297161
Publisher: Eleven Press
Published: 2019-11-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The country was gorgeous, if a little hilly. Make that very hilly, thought Eliza, gripping her seat as the van plunged down another narrow lane. Eliza had been to San Francisco and taken a trolley car ride up those famous slopes – she’d thought those roads were steep, but this part of Ireland seemed to have been built on the vertical. Not that she was complaining. For all the sudden drops, it was still knock-out gorgeous, especially on a crisp clear morning like this. Inland, embraced by hedges and embankments, protected from the fog and the sea spray, the clouds could actually part and let the sun shine through – or at least they had today. At the top of a rise, the van paused, Moira struggling with the old van’s sticky gears, and Eliza was suddenly gifted a clear view of the country. They were in the midst of a clutch of hills undulating away in all directions like the green backs of serpents stranded miles from the sea. Wind-twisted trees, naked of leaves, punctuated the blue sky while sheep huddled in clumps scattered across the fields, themselves shimmering silver with frost.

Eliza was glad to have something else on her mind than Noah the guard. Since her strange confrontation with him in the square, she had thought of little else and she couldn’t really say why it so bothered her. It was none of her business after all if the local cop had a problem with his family. Why should she care? Why indeed? The problem was, Eliza knew, that she did. This strange, wonderful little corner of the world – and the quirky but warm, welcoming people she’d met here – had affected her more than she could ever have imagined. And one in particular had somehow gotten hold of her in a way she couldn’t explain.

‘Nearly there,’ said Moira, cutting into her thoughts. The van was moving again and Moira was pointing straight ahead.

‘You see the smoke above the woods?’ she said. ‘That’s Corrigale. Not so much a village as three houses and a farm, but…’ There was a loud crunch as she shifted down again and Eliza grabbed the door handle as the van tipped dangerously to the left.

‘Whoops,’ grinned Moira, ‘Hang onto yer hat there ‘liza. Some of these turns are a little tricky: the roads weren’t built for a library truck yesee?’

‘What were they built for?’

‘Oh. Carts, droving cattle, that sorta thing. Before motors anyway. But we’ve got to work with what we’ve got, don’t we?’

There was another sharp turn, the side of the van being raked by the branches of an oak, then they bumped up over an embankment. Moira seemed to take that as her cue to stop.

‘So, this is the place,’ said Moira, yanking on the handbrake and beeping the horn three times. ‘That’ll get ’em running. Like an ice cream van, huh?’

‘Gosh, ice cream trucks!’ said Eliza. ‘I remember them from when I was a kid: whenever we heard them playing “Camptown Races”, we’d run out into the streets.

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