Bruar's Rest

breakfasted on eggs and bacon, a gift from Bridget. Stewed tea grew black on the stove as the pair chatted over things. Bull Buckley filled their conversation, him and a certain Irishman called Michael Riley.
    ‘He’s got the hot eye on you; I felt it on the way back yesterday. Are you going to tell him about the poor soldier who waits for you somewhere?’
    ‘He will be a friend and that’s all. See this pretty golden necklace? Well, it was a Christmas gift. Do you like it? And no, I don’t see what business it is of anybody where my man is.’
    ‘Look, girlie, I’m an old woman, coming near the end, I am. If life has taught me anything, then it’s always start with coming clean. If he knows all about you, then no one will get hurt. Do you see what I’m saying? Now give us another fill of me pipe, and a fill of me teacup which has gone as black as that bloody baccy.’
    Megan handed over the tobacco, thoughts running through her head. Should she tell Michael about Bruar, or keep her man a secret? Once again, like fingers of grey mist, doubt and confusion filled her mind.
    However, the day wound down to a quiet close without a visit from anyone from the farm. Mother Foy was both disappointed and relieved. Relieved that she’d found a peaceful day, and disappointed no one paid a visit. ‘Contrary thoughts of an old fool,’ she thought.
    Megan was glad that Michael stayed away, at least until her head was cleared, or was it her heart? She didn’t know, but one thing she did feel, was that her legs needed stretched. ‘A long, brisk walk and I’ll come back to prepare a light meal,’ she promised her old friend, adding, ‘you get another sleep, it can only do you good.’
    Leaving Mother Foy with a fresh brew and her baccy tin, she set off along the gorse field road. Only knowing one way, she found herself heading in the direction of the farm. There was only an hour left of daylight, so why not pop in and see Beth.
    Just where she’d left her the old horse munched away on a bundle of hay in the giant barn. Seeing a familiar face the big shire raised, then lowered her head in a nodding motion, and looked around as if at someone entering behind her. ‘You looking for the old woman, Beth? Yes, of course you are. Well, she’s in bed, and between you and me, that’s where she’ll be, until the crackle from her lungs goes.’
    ‘Are you always in the habit of talking to horses?’ Startled, she turned to see, leaning on a wooden barn post, handsome Michael.
    ‘Aye, dogs and birds and worms and snakes—in fact, if it crawls, wriggles, flies and canters, then I’ll have a conversation with it. Hello, did you have a nice day yesterday?’
    He did not answer, nor laugh at her remarks, just stared with those smouldering eyes. Those forbidden thoughts she had tried so desperately to eradicate came slinking like a thousand hungry foxes seeking their prey. He was the prey. Both their bodies met in a tight embrace like two adders coiling around each other. It had been so long: her skin tingled, every sex-starved inch of it. In seconds they were ripping at each other’s clothes until they stood before each other’s bare flesh, she naked apart from a thin torn petticoat, his torso like a stone statue at the gate of a stately home. For moments she ignored him, teasing him. He kissed her hands, her arms, and her neck. Very slowly, in rhythm with his advances, she relaxed herself, and he kissed her half-opened lips. They lay down on the soft hay, caressing each other’s warm, youthful bodies. His tongue opened her soft lips; he thrust it gently inside her mouth. She tasted it. Muscles flexed and danced from his powerful neck to toes that were finding the contours of her slender legs. Then when she thought this passion, like the forbidden apple, would burst out through her beating heart, she slowly opened those slender throbbing legs and freely gave what had been promised to another man.
    Afterwards she lay in his arms. A long time passed with nothing but the sound of Beth munching and breathing. He spoke first. ‘Ah, for sure you’re a real beauty, Megan. I cannot let you drift out of my life like a wind-blown seed. Please stay with me, my pretty colleen, please say you will.’ Again, unable to control his body, he was exploring her entirety. She was like mercury through his fingers. He was ravenous yet gentle, and she responded with willingness that frightened yet excited her. She was lost again in the arms