Going Gone, Book 2 of the Irish End Games Read Online Free

kindling—for which he didn’t have to use a hatchet or an axe to Sarah’s relief—and to feed the animals—the two ponies, the dog, the lone goat and the flock of chickens that essentially sustained them when the summer garden’s harvest ran out.
    Sarah noticed that the box was full of kindling but they were running low on firewood. She stood in the kitchen door that opened up to the back pasture, where she saw David already chopping wood. He looked intense, single-minded and determined. A wave of sadness passed through her as she watched him. He’d had such a different life “back home” as senior partner at a mid-size accounting firm.
    She watched him attack the wood stump, his arms rippling with the muscles he’d created through their new life, and wondered what he thought of these days. Did he still worry out knotty accounting problems as he toiled and physically labored? Did he miss beyond endurance his corporate world? No wonder he let Mike get to him. Sarah couldn’t help glancing in the direction of the community. Mike’s plantation was real, his rule unassailable and tangible. His authority unimpeachable.
    No wonder David flinched under his influence. Back in his world, Mike Donovan would be cutting David’s lawn for him.
    Sarah squinted against the horizon to catch a glimpse of John. She could tell by where the sun was that it wasn’t early, though still well before eight in the morning. She glanced again at the box full of kindling. It was very possible the boy had rushed through his chores before his parents were even out of bed, saddled his pony and left for Donovan’s camp. He was drawn to the man—and his tented kingdom—like a boy was drawn to adventure.
    She withdrew into the kitchen and began pounding the dough that, hopefully, would transform into a loaf of bread in eight short hours. As she was covering the bowl of dough with one of Deirdre’s kitchen towels, she turned to see her husband standing in the doorway, his arms full of cut firewood. He was staring at her with an expression of unutterable sadness.
    â€œDavid? You okay?”
    He grunted and dumped the wood into the flat basket next to the cook stove. “I think John’s already gone off.”
    â€œI was wondering about that. You didn’t see him before he left?”
    David didn’t answer, and when Sarah looked up from tucking the bowl of dough against the wall on the kitchen counter she saw that he appeared to be examining her thoughtfully.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œYou know he’s in love with you,” David said flatly.
    Her face must have relayed her thoughts, because he spoke before she could. “And do us both a favor and don’t say who ?”
    â€œWell, I think you’re imagining that,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron and breaking eye contact with him.
    â€œYeah, right. How can I blame him? I just don’t need to see it on a daily basis.”
    She faced him. “Look, David, I can’t say what is or isn’t going on in Mike Donovan’s head, but as long as it isn’t in mine, what difference does it make?”
    â€œYeah, right,” he said again. “He’s already taken my son.”
    â€œDon’t even say that! If you’re talking about the…about Mike spanking John, I hate it too, but I understand it. These are different times, hard times.”
    â€œIt takes a village?” David said sarcastically, and Sarah suddenly realized it wasn’t a part of him she had ever seen much. Except lately.
    â€œThe concept of everyone having your back in a community is as old as time,” Sarah said, wondering why he was putting her in the position of defending the community. “Mike didn’t invent it.” She turned to pour his tea into a large earthenware mug.
    â€œAre you making an appeal to move in with them?”
    â€œYou know I’m not.”
    She set