Part of her wanted to say, “Yes, of course I am.” But the smug look on his face was too much. “And you know the way to said graveyard? And it’s not too far?”
“Only around the corner and up the hill a bit. I promise, it’s a sight to see.”
“But will we even be able to see it?” she countered, feeling this was a good point.
“It is a full moon. And I have a flashlight.”
She was sure she should be able to come up with a million more excuses, but realized part of her didn’t want to. Part of her really wanted to go with him wherever he led.
She picked up her cider, taking two large swallows for courage. “Okay,” she agreed.
“Great.”
They slipped out the front door quietly, Finn leading the way up the road. There was just enough light shining out from the houses and the moon to see where they were going. Still, he held the flashlight at the ready.
As they continued upward, it became less of a road and more of a path until it was just them, surrounded by fields. He led them through twists and turns until Penelope knew she wouldn’t be able to find her way back on her own. The press of the dark night drew her closer to him until she could feel the breeze his arms created as they swung back and forth.
When she tripped over some loose rocks, he reached for her, steadying her easily. By the third time it happened, she realizedher sandals were obviously not the best choice for this walk, and holding his hand seemed like the natural response.
“What about that flashlight?” she asked.
“Almost there. I didn’t want to call attention to ourselves.”
Penelope stopped without letting go of him, causing him to stop too. He looked back, and she concentrated on the general area of his face in the darkness.
“Are we allowed to be here?” she asked.
Finn shrugged, unconcerned. “People visit it all the time.”
This didn’t seem like a complete answer.
“Okay, it’s usually during the day. Night visits aren’t exactly encouraged. But we’re not breaking any laws. Besides, no one’s going to see us. The local gardai have better things to do than checking the old church.”
“The who?”
“The police.”
He tugged at her until she was moving again.
The path had narrowed to a trail by the time he finally switched on his light. They were well past all the houses. Walls surrounded the fields to either side of them, leaving only one way to go. Penelope had given up all pretense of keeping her distance; using her free hand, she held onto his arm.
She liked the feel of his fingers linked with hers. They were strong and calloused. Capable hands. The smell of him was musty after their busy day, enticing in its own way. She leaned into the warmth of his body. He was tall, lean, and solid. Not in the way Seamus was bulky with muscle. She could feel the definition of his arms and the firmness of his torso. It felt good. He carried himself with quiet confidence, not the showiness Seamus had. It made her think of all the ways she wasn’t confident. Not about her body. Not about her choices. Not even about being here at this moment.
“Look.” Finn pointed ahead, shining the flashlight. Just in front of them were the ancient remains of the old church, tall and intimidating, with large, gaping holes in the gray stone where windows once stood. All around it were more jagged gray stones sticking up from the ground, marking the graveyard.
Penelope stopped dead in her tracks, looking ahead, unsure if she was willing to move forward again. The night was still and silent, except for the distant sound of waves and the gentlest of breezes.
“I don’t know…,” she started.
“It’s okay,” he reassured softly, leaning in closer to her ear. “I’m here. I did this a hundred times as a kid. We’ll be fine.”
The path became bumpier as he led her through the tall grass that had taken over the grounds. Scanning the flashlight back and forth, they were able to find areas where it was more trampled, leading them to the gravestones and then on towards the church itself.
Shining the light directly onto the gray slabs, they began to explore. Unhurriedly, they moved from one to another, finding many of them were so old and weatherbeaten that the writing had worn off completely. On others, it was barely legible. Penelope pulled her hands back to wrap them around herself. Leaning in to read the dates she could make out, she kept her feet firmly planted in one place, afraid of what she might step on.
“It’s so eerie.” She rubbed her arms more for comfort than from cold, trying to imagine what life was like all those years ago. What this place looked like when the church was still in use. What kind of lives these people lived, and how they had died.
A chill ran down her back as she envisioned these things, causing her to ask herself again how she had come to be here. In this place, with this man. So far away from home in more ways than just distance. She posed the question to herself: if she couldclose her eyes and wake up in her own bed right now, would she want to?
