Love Comes To 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: 9781911297130
Publisher: Eleven Press
Published: 2019-07-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Charles Balcon. Sir Charles the snake, the rat, the vampire. Connor squeezed his hands into fists and tried to breathe. It’s your fault, you idiot, he reminded himself. You literally took Kate O’Riordan to him.

He bumped a fist against his head.

So what? What’s the girl to you? Why are you so mad about it?

Why? Because it was so typical that he would drive her back in his flash car, turning the girl’s head with his money and his smooth ways. As he always did. Connor stomped through the bar, ignoring the calls of the various patrons already filling the bar, and pushed through the kitchen, grabbing his coat and heading for the back door. Up the path, turn left, then right and he was on a little secret pathway running behind the houses.

Shouting out in frustration, he kicked at a tree root and was rewarded with a sharp pain in his shin.

‘You fool, Connor James,’ he groaned, rubbing his leg. He looked up and down the lane, embarrassed at his own petulance. No-one was watching, not even the crows. He turned right and limped on. The secret path wasn’t secret of course: everyone in the Cove knew it was there, but he had always thought of it as secret since he had been a small boy playing there on his own, imagining it as a smuggler’s path or a war-torn trench or a haunted corridor, depending on where his imagination was taking him that day. ‘Your head’s always in the clouds, Connor James,’ his father used to sigh. ‘No good ever came of dreaming, boy.’

But Connor had disagreed, finding adventure and mystery in every corner, along every muddy path. Knights, pirates, fairies and dragons, you only had to open your eyes and see them. That had been then of course, when he’d been small. Of late, Connor had begun to think perhaps his father had been right. Why dream of monsters and witches and intrigue and betrayal when all those things were there to see, right under your nose?

He stopped at a rusted old gate, beyond it the old graveyard next to the church. The locals may well have known about the narrow path, but that didn’t mean they ever used it. Connor knew full well that it had been twenty years since anyone had oiled the hinges of the gate, so he swung up onto the steps to the side: the stile, which made him think of Kate O’Riordan. Again.

Why am I so bothered by all this? He wondered. Not just Kate, but Ross Oil and the money and the chance of things changing.

‘Why? Because it’s home,’ he whispered.

His little brother Ryan had been right of course, it wasn’t up to Connor James what happened to the Cove. The residents of the village were all adults, they could and would make their own decisions, whatever the landlord of the Spa and Suites thought. And so what if everyone left? New people would come in to the empty cottages and stores; those which Ross Oil saw fit to leave standing of course.

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