Paddy 9
Feckin’ hell. My arm hurts, my leg hurts…
my heart hurts. Today went sideways and I do not know what to do moving forward.
Trinli’s husband is dead. Very, very dead.
Magnus Mining Company pays almost nothing out when a miner dies, but what little they might assist with would surely be denied if they knew just how drunk Darragh was.
I found him staggering, slurring his speech, and laughing without cause.
He yelled at me, accused me of coveting his wife, then tried to fight me.
My attempts to calm him down fell on deaf ears.
The things he said about her, it took everything I had not to punch him.
Honestly, I knew that if I hit him, he would be knocked out, and I did not relish the thought of dragging his lard ass out of the mine.
He shoved me, told me to leave him alone and let him do his job.
I turned to leave, was almost out of the corridor, when I heard him swing his axe and hit something metal.
I spun around, saw his face drain of color, and rushed back to pull him out.
It takes seconds for a life to change…for a life to end.
Whatever he hit, whatever he broke, rippled through the corridor and every repurposed piece of structural support I warned management would fail without proper precautions failed in seconds.
I reached out to grab him as the roof collapsed, large sections of hard earth fell around him, landing on my arm and leg.
Blood spurted from the crushing impact as Darragh lay buried beneath thousands of pounds of earth, metal, and debris.
Several arms latched onto me roughly, dragging me from the corridor and depositing me topside.
The sunshine seemed so out of place, blinding in its intensity after the darkness of the mine, the life of a bad man so easily snuffed out.
I cannot figure out how to tell her. How to look her in the eye and tell her I allowed her husband to die. He was not a good man. But did he deserve that end? Did Trinli? The babes?
I lay here in my home, my arm and leg bandaged by the company physician, throbbing with the constant reminder of my heartbeat while Darragh’s remains silent.
“PADDY!” Hissing as I sit upright, the fear in Trinli’s voice is enough for me to ignore my pain and rush to the front door.
I throw it open and barely have a moment to brace myself before she is barreling into me.
Her body is warm, she smells divine, her arms tight around my waist as she convulses with gut-wrenching sobs.
“I am sorry, cailin. I tried to save him! I swear to ye, I went for him, but the roof collapsed. I am so very sorry, I failed ye—” I break off suddenly, shock and pain warring as she pummels my chest with her tiny but powerful fists. “I know. I deserve your anger. I did not—”
“You eejit!” she screams, continuing to pound against my bruised body. “You could have died! You could have left me…left the babes…what would I do without you?”
“Trin? I tried to save Darragh—”
“That sack of shit is not worth your life! How could you put yourself in danger like that?” She is upset because I risked my life to save her husband? I tighten my hold around her until her arms fall limp at her sides and she melts into my embrace.
“Aye, a mhuirnin, I am a little bruised and battered but alive.”
“I forbid you to die.” Chuckling into her hair, I walk back a few steps and close my front door.
I want to block the rest of the world; it is her and I and no one else.
At least for a few minutes. “I am a selfish git; you have been hurt. Sit down.” She pushes me to a nearby chair and fusses over me for a while, making me a plate of small foods and handing me a glass of birch beer.
She finally sits in another chair and stares me down.
I smile, understanding how she gets everyone around her to do her bidding so easily.
She is an intimidating little thing. “What are your injuries?”
“Deep bruising, probable sprain.” I raise my injured arm slightly to indicate. “A few days’ rest and I will be right as rain.”
“You will come to our home to recuperate so I may watch over you.” Her eyes dart to the side, and I know Trinli well enough by now that it is clear she is hiding something. “I imagine in a couple days, you will be ready to come home, however, I want to make sure you are resting and eating.”
“I am a grown man, cailin, I can take care of myself.” There is nowhere else I would rather be than with Trinli and the babes, I just enjoy teasing her.
“I need to care for you, Paddy.” She swallows hard. “Please.” My grin drops in light of her serious response.
“Trinli, I am sorry. Truly.”
She stands abruptly, walking around my place and picking up clothes and such to pack for my brief stay. “The only reason for you to be sorry is that you put yourself at risk for a man who would have soon as spit in your eye than help you. He does not deserve your effort.”
“Aye, but I am sorry, nonetheless.”
“And that is why you are and have always been a better man than Darragh Byrne.” She dusts her hands off, avoiding eye contact. “Grab what else you might need for two or three days and let us be off. Riordan is unwell and Margaret is watching the wee ones.”
“I am fine here on my own, if Riordan is ill.” Trinli turns and finally lifts her gaze to mine. My lips part as my heart beats faster when I see the raw need in her eyes.
“Please, Padraig. I just…I need…” I smile softly and nod, understanding what she needs even though she is unable to articulate it herself.
With some effort, I stand and cross the open room to stand in front of her.
I run my hand over the top of her head, feeling the softness of her hair beneath my palm, and press my lips to her forehead.
“I need it too, a mhuirnin. Give me a moment and we will be on our way.” For a few brief seconds, an inconsequential amount of time, shame flushes hot through my body.
A man just died. Regardless of my feelings regarding him, he was still a husband and a father.
But when Trinli glances up at me, any shame or guilt evaporates like smoke on the wind.
Any title he might have held was in name only.
May his name be buried as deep as his body and never resurface again.