Irish Meadows by Susan Anne Mason Read Free Book Online

Colleen’s voice rose an octave, despite her attempt to keep her desperation from showing. What would she do with a priest all the way home from the train station?
    Mama reached for the coffee pot. “I’ve already asked, and the men are too busy. Besides, I want a family member there to give Cousin Rylan a proper O’Leary welcome.” She poured coffee into the cup before her.
    â€œOh, Mama. You know I hate taking the carriage out. The horses don’t like me.” Her pout, which always worked with Daddy, got her nowhere with Mama.
    â€œI have absolute confidence in you, my darling. Sam is hitching up the horses for you, so they’ll be ready whenever you are.”
    Colleen sighed. “How will I know this Rylan?”
    â€œHe’ll be the one in a clerical collar, of course.”
    An hour later, dressed in her serviceable blue cotton dress and straw hat, Colleen maneuvered the carriage down the main road into town. She turned her nose up at the rows and rows of trees that stretched for miles. Why Daddy had chosen this rural outpost for their home she’d never understand. At least the Hastings family kept only their summer home on the island, with their main estate situated in downtown Manhattan. Now there was a place Colleen would love to live. The excitement and energy of the city called to her like mermaids called men to the sea.
    Her future husband, she’d determined long ago, would be rich and powerful and love the city as much as she did. She smiled to herself as she thought of all the wonderful servants they would employ, especially a chauffeur so Colleen would never have to drive any kind of conveyance again. Although trying Daddy’s motorcar might be exhilarating . . .
    As though offended by her thoughts, the carriage lurched to one side and stopped fast. Her lack of attention had caused her to veer off the road and onto the soft shoulder. She whipped the reins harder, clucking to the horses. The animals strained in their harnesses, but the carriage only leaned farther toone side in a precarious angle that had Colleen sliding along the bench. She peeked over the side to find one of the back wheels bogged down in the soft dirt, made soggy from the overnight rain.
    â€œOh, for the love of St. Patrick. Now I’ll be late to meet the train.”
    With an annoyed huff, she lifted her skirts and hopped down from the seat. As she performed an inspection, Colleen’s spirits sank. She doubted she’d be able to free the wheel from the deep suction of mud, even if she could manage to get the horses’ cooperation. She’d have to wait for someone to come by.
    Picking up her already dirt-encrusted hem, she made her way out onto the road. Surely some nice gentleman would come by and offer to assist a pretty damsel in distress. Maybe her future husband would come to her aid and fall madly in love with her. She giggled at the notion, content to lose herself in imaginary romantic encounters.
    But time dragged on without a single person passing by. Colleen’s feet now ached from standing for so long, and the idea of having to walk miles into town made her whimper. Would God listen if she prayed to Him for help after she’d ignored Him most of her life? At this point, she’d try anything.
    Lord, if it’s not too much trouble, please send someone to help me out of this predicament. As soon as possible.
    The thought of her mother’s extreme disappointment brought her close to tears. She’d counted on Colleen to do this one thing for her, and Colleen had let her down. Again.
    When her feet couldn’t take another minute of standing, she pulled a woolen blanket from the back of the tilted carriage and laid it on the ground. She removed her hat before she eased down to rest for a few moments. Maybe if a passerby saw her on the ground, he’d rush to her aid. She took off her shoes, closed her eyes, and sighed with pleasure at the relief to her