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Click hereWhen she saw him pass and don his shirt just before entering the house, her body responded once again. Her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her dress and the moistness of her sex seeped once again. She was mortified that others would notice her state of arousal, especially her master and Padraig.
Finola slowly walked to the well, taking her time retrieving the bucket of water and returning to the house. By the time she'd arrived, most of the men had finished eating and were almost fighting over the water. She placed the bucket on the table and left the room.
When she reached her bedroom and sat at the foot of her bed she recalled the speech her master gave during their orientation once they arrived at the farm. "There will be no shenanigans, no fighting and I will not tolerate any hanky panky between the workers themselves or any member of my family. If I see or hear of such happenings, those involved will be immediately dismissed without pay. Is that understood?"
Finola couldn't bear to be sent home without her earnings, nor would she wish that upon Padraig either. She thought it best to just keep her distance whenever he was near. It will be difficult, but it's the only way, she thought as she tried to hide her emotions when a knock was heard outside her door.
"Is everything okay, Dear?" the farmer's wife asked as she handed Finola a tissue. "I know something is bothering you, won't you tell me?"
"I'm fine," she lied. "It's nothing," she lied again forcing a smile to grace her lips.
"It's Padraig, isn't it? I can tell you have feelings for him. It wasn't that long ago that I felt that intense feeling of desire, of need. That craving that eats you up inside when you can't be close to the one who holds your heart." Mrs. McGee placed a comforting hand upon Finola's back and rubbed gently. "I'm sure if he feels the same way he will wait for you."
With that, Finola dried her tears and returned to the dining room to finish her chores.
~~~
"Excuse me sir, we're lookin' for a young bloke by the name of Padraig MacCarthy. Would he be workin' for you?" A young man asked when he stopped in front of the farmer's house.
"I do have a lad by that name here, yes. Why do you need him?"
"We've been lookin' for him for a week now. I have a message concernin' his father," the young man handed the paper to the farmer and he read its contents silently.
"Oh, dear God," was all the farmer voiced then headed into the fields in search of Padraig. He found him in the last two thirds of the cornfield. "Son, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," the farmer said solemnly then handed Padraig the note from the messenger boy.
Padraig read it and handed it back to the farmer. "Thank you for letting me know." Padraig returned to his work.
"You have my permission to go visit with him. I have been watching you and your work is exceptional. I will grant you a leave to be with your family during this time of need."
"Thank you, Sir, but my family will understand why I will not be home. I have made a promise and I intend to keep it. My family needs the money more than they need my presence while my father is mending. I have an older brother who will look after everyone."
"Nonsense, young man. You will go to your family. They are more important than any job. I will have the stable lad arrange a horse for you. You will go and tend to your father's needs and return when he is stable. Is that understood?"
The stable lad brought Padraig a handsome horse, equipped with a leather saddle and reins. "You will leave immediately. I will inform your friend and the other's of my decision. Now you go." The farmer assisted Padraig onto the horse and swatted its behind to get it moving. Padraig held on tightly as the horse galloped off.
The commotion of the horse concerned the other workers and since it was nearly supper- time the farmer gathered everyone and informed them of Padraig's situation at home. "I have allowed the lad permission to go tend to his family. He will return as soon as his father is on his feet again."
"What happened?" Michael asked, having missed the farmer's announcement.
"Padraig's father had an accident. He was kicked by a horse, while helping his son, Daniel, at another farm nearby. Daniel was killed instantly. I sent Padraig home to assist his mother and father. He will return when he's able to. But until then, I'm asking that each of you pick up his slack."
When Finola heard of Padriag's loss she was the first, well second behind Michael, to volunteer her services. "That's mighty kind of you dear, but this is a man's job," one of the workers spouted out as he walked away; angered that he had to do more work for the same amount of pay.
Finola was angered as well; not because of the extra work, but because of that statement and she set out to prove the man wrong. After she had finished the supper dishes she walked up to Michael and asked him to show her what needed to be done. She walked into the field and with her bucket in hand began pulling weeds where Padraig had left off. She worked past dusk, until she could no longer see the weeds in front of her.
Without a word to anyone, she walked to the byre and dumped the bucket into the pile then returned to the house. She walked directly to her bed and without undressing, lay down and almost instantly fell asleep. She dreamt of Padraig and felt him close to her even though he was so far away.
~ ~ ~
Three weeks passed before Padraig's return. He was thin and appeared withdrawn. He rode quietly to the byre and tied the horse to the post before entering the house to announce his return. "I'm back to make up for my absence, sir," he said in a low tone.
The farmer and his wife had heard the sad news before Padraig returned. "I'm very sorry about your father, son," McGee said in a soothing tone with a comforting hand on Padraig's shoulder.
"Thank you, Sir."
"What about your mother, Padraig? You didn't leave her alone did you?" The farmer's wife questioned then handed him a cup of tea.
"No, ma'am. I sent her to stay with her sister until my return after the harvest. She will be well taken care of there. Her sister has a large family and they were always better off then my family. She will not need for anything in my absence."
Padraig insisted on returning to work immediately upon his return and the farmer knew it was best for him to do so. Mrs. McGee, however, felt he needed more time to grieve, but he wouldn't have any of that. He was a strong young man and now had to be even stronger being the man of the family.
It was just after supper when Padraig returned and most of the workers had already retired for the night. All but Michael and Finola. They returned to the fields for there was still light and work to be done. "Padraig will be pleased with your thoughtfulness, Finola."
As Padraig gathered his tools in the byre, Michael was informed of his return and knowing how he felt about the woman at his side, convinced her it was time to stop for the night. Finola agreed, she was quite tired and sore from all the extra work. She said good night to Michael and headed to the house.
Meanwhile, Padraig was on his way to the field. "Aah!" he gasped, startled when Michael walked out into the path that led to the last few rows of corn.
Without a word, Michael embraced his dear friend in a sympathetic hug. "What are you doing back already? I didn't expect you so soon."
"There wasn't much else for me to do there, especially without money. I took mother to stay with her sister. I made a promise to Mr.McGee on that first day that I would give him full measure. I can't very well do that if I'm not here, now can I?"
"Well, my friend, it's been a long day for all of us. Let's retire and start refreshed in the mornin'," Michael convinced Padraig not to push himself upon his return and together they headed to their lodging.
"It looks like a storm is headed our way," Michael muttered as the two exchanged conversation quietly.
Padraig hoped to get a glimpse of Finola before retiring for the night. He was unaware of her passing him in the field, but the visions of her were as clear as daylight when he was away.
~ ~ ~
Michael was correct in his statement; a wicked storm passed through overnight. When Padraig awoke in the morning, the air was cooler than normal. He scooted to the edge of his cot and instead of his feet resting on dry hay, he heard the sound of water splashing. He lit the lantern beside his cot and to his astonishment; the ground was saturated. A thick mud oozed between his toes.
Immediately he righted himself, pulled up his soaked overalls and with one hand holding the lantern and the other holding the bib of his overalls, he ventured outside to check on the crops. The potato crop fared much better than the cornfield. The stalks were blown over and many were broken off near the root.
He was devastated, to say the least. All that hard work. And for what? Wondering what would happen when the farmer awakened and saw the damage to his crops, he warned Michael. "Well, what do you suppose is going to happen now?" Padraig asked when Michael observed the flooded fields.
With both hands on his face, Michael rubbed his eyes as if hoping he was seeing things. However, when he removed his hands and opened his eyes, the problem still presented itself. "Well, my friend, I suggest we start packing our belongings. From the looks of things out here, McGee won't be needin' us anymore. It's too late in the season to replant these crops and without the crops he won't be able to pay us; much less support his own family."
Sadly, Padraig agreed and returned to their lodging to pack up the few things he'd brought with him. He sat at the edge of his cot, his head cradled in his hands. He felt sick to his stomach and his heart ached. He wasn't concerned about himself, but he was troubled by what the future held for the farmer and his family now that the crops were destroyed. He also felt ill at ease with the knowledge that he'd probably never see Finola again once they were all dismissed.
He was too proud a man to allow others to see him in agony so he quietly finished dressing and folded his blanket neatly on his cot. He had to prepare himself to face the farmer, as well as the woman to whom he'd secretly given his heart.
With his head held high he walked from the byre he had called home for the past couple months and met up with Michael and the other men who'd recently learned of their future on the farm. As Padraig approached, he saw the farmer walking away, his head hung low, fists clenched in anger.
"What's the word, blokes?" Padraig asked one of the men who lagged behind.
"Well, it seems there isn't enough work for all of us and McGee had to let some blokes go early because of the heavy rains last night."
"Who's to be stayin' and who's to be leavin'?" Padraig questioned the man, but he didn't answer, he just held his head high and walked back to the byre, somberly. Padraig didn't want to bother him anymore, knowing exactly how he'd felt. That same fate could be his within moments, but first he had to find Michael to learn the truth.
"There you are," Padraig shouted as he sloshed through the muddy field in search of his dearest friend. "So, what's the word? Should I put on my walkin' shoes?"
"No, that won't be necessary, my friend. McGee has told me that he has enough work to keep us busy along with a few others, but he had to let most of the men go."
Padraig was happy with the news regarding himself and Michael, but his gut wrenched once again for word of Finola's future. "Did he say who was stayin',?" He asked as he paced the field; his fists clenched and arms crossed over his chest.
"Calm yourself, bloke. She's stayin'! McGee said that the misses would need all the help she could get to clean things up inside. I didn't see much of anything that needed to be cleaned in there, but I think she had other reasons for her decision." Michael smiled as he patted Padraig's shoulder. "Come now, there's still plenty of work to be done."
Michael and Padraig returned to the house to see what the farmer wanted them to do first. With all the commotion of the morning, they missed breakfast. Actually, breakfast had never been made, but when they stepped foot inside the house the smell of fresh bacon wafted through the air. "Are you lad's hungry?" the farmer's wife asked as she hurried around the large kitchen preparing their meal.
Both men smiled and Michael rubbed his stomach as he took his seat at the table. Padraig on the other hand seemed hesitant. His eyes panned the room then the remainder of the house that he could see from where he stood. No sight of Finola and his heart sank.
After the food was placed on the table, the farmer's wife walked over to Padraig. With her hand on his shoulder she pulled him down so that they were face to face and she mouthed, "she's still here," then simply walked away.
By now, the farmer suspected something was happening between those two. However, he had a fondness for Padraig and he recalled a feeling when he'd seen Padraig gaze at Finola; the same feeling he'd had oh so many years ago when first he lay eyes on his beloved wife. He knew he could trust the lad to get his work done first so he excused his behavior and invited him to the table.
As the days passed the farmer learned his crops weren't a total loss. The corn stalks straightened with the heat of the sun and the rains held off long enough for the ground to dry out once again. The potato crop faired better than the corn because that soil had been dry to begin with; the irrigation machine had malfunctioned a few days prior to the storm.
~ ~ ~
Time passed quickly after that last storm. The days flew by as if only hours had gone by. The men woke with the sound of the breakfast bell. Sleepily, they rose to their feet, dressed for another days labor and headed to the house. Surprised by the farmer's words that it was harvest time, the men ate quickly.
"There's no time for lollygagging now lads," he said, righting himself and heading toward the byre. He stood at the door and began handing out orders. "This will be a heavy task and I will need everyone working together on this if we are to get the job done on time. We only have a week's time, so let's get busy. The cows need to be fed and the trough filled, Finola can do that. When you are finished you will meet us in the fields."
"Yes, Sir," she said quietly then went on her way to complete her tasks.
"The rest of you, follow me," he said as they headed toward the potato field.
Each man took a section, pulling the tubers from the soil and placing them in a bushel basket. When the basket was filled, it was carried to the storage bin and the men would return to fill another basket until the crop was harvested.
"We can stop at the next row me friend," an older man told Padraig and Michael. "That crop 's not ready for harvestin' yet."
When they finished with the last row, they took their baskets to the storage bin and then located the farmer for another job. "We will need help with the corn. You two go over there," he said, pointing to the edge of the crop, "and start your way back here. We'll meet in the middle."
Michael and Padraig each grabbed a burlap bag and swung it over their shoulders as they headed for the farthest corner of the lot. "This shouldn't be all that hard, at least we get to do it standing up," Padraig said then laughed.
The cobs were easy to remove from the stalks and the men made it look easy as they pulled and dumped ear after ear into their sacks. "Oh bloody hell, what do you think you are gonna do with that, lad?" Michael questioned as he yanked a knife from another workers hand.
"I'm usin' it to cut the corn off if it doesn't come easily."
"You're gonna get someone stabbed if ya do it like that. Here watch me, lad," Michael added, showing the young boy how to properly harvest the corn to save the husk and not bruise the kernels beneath.
It would take the men too long to harvest all the corn so the farmer called for everyone to join in. This meant the women worked side by side with the men. Padraig didn't think they should have been forced to work in the hot sun, but when he saw Finola, he quickly changed his mind.
As the women removed the remaining corn from the stalks, Michael and Padraig worked with their scythes to remove the remaining stalks so a new crop could be planted. This second crop was to feed the animals throughout the coming winter; when the fresh grasses and hay were no more.
"Slow down there, bloke. 'Tis not a race and there's no finish line," one of the workers shouted to Padraig as he swung his scythe with all his might. He was nervous having the woman of his dreams so close to him, watching his every move. He could feel her eyes upon him, even when she wasn't looking his way.
Eventually, he had to stop swinging that tool to pick up the stalks that had fallen and toss them into a pile. By this time Finola had caught up with him and she assisted with gathering the stalks.
Padraig felt like a schoolboy whenever she was near. Every time he went to speak he couldn't. He cursed beneath his breath because of his tongue-tied youthfulness, but also prayed she could read his mind and would know what he'd felt in his heart for her.
With the mere mention of her name, every part of his being shivered. His skin craved her touch, her heat. His heart skipped a beat whenever he heard her sweet delicate voice. He never felt this way about a woman before but often heard his mother tell stories of how she and his father had met. And when he recalled the description of the feelings she first had, he knew it was love he was feeling toward Finola.
He was unable to concentrate the closer she'd gotten to him and he hardly spoke a word for fear that everything would come out wrong and he'd end up looking the fool. He was courteous to her though and nodded when she spoke to him, smiling brightly each time he'd blush from her words, or when he'd gotten caught looking at her form from behind. The way her dress clung to her hips, the way her hair framed her lovely face. And when her breasts pushed against the stalks when she'd gather a bunch and carry them out of the way, Padraig envisioned his chest and loins against her instead of those stalks.
It had taken the workers the better part of the week to clear all the land for the next crop but when all was safely gathered, they were finally able to rest. Padraig wandered to a clearing where fragrant wild flowers continued to bloom.
He sat and stared into the night's sky. The sun had almost set but the view was amazing. The hue of oranges, red's and pinks blended together to form a tapestry in the clouds.
Although that view was amazing, it wasn't nearly as breathtaking as the vision that appeared beside him. Padraig was pleasantly averted from the heaven's masterpiece when Finola crept up quietly and sat beside him. Her smile was gentle, yet seductive and for the first time, Padraig felt her longing, her desire to be with him.
His trembling fingers touched her arm when he attempted to brush a fly from her dress. She grabbed it gently and placed it on her breast. Her heart skipped a beat with him so close and finally able to feel his warmth radiate through the material of her dress.
She wanted him so badly she could taste him when the breezes blew his scent her way. Her need to have him closer intensified with each breath and she seized the moment. She turned to him and slid closer, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. She leaned in towards Padraig and all his senses reeled. He could hardly breathe, but that didn't stop him from showing Finola his true feelings.