Devil of Dublin by BB Easton EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: BB Easton
- Language: English
- Date Of Publish: September 22, 2022
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- File Size: 1 MB
- Status: Available for Download
- Genre: Action & Adventure Romance
- No. Of Pages: 365
- Series: None
- Price: Free
DARBY
I sank my fingers knuckle deep into the spongy wool, trying
not to squeal as I closed my fists around two satisfying
handfuls of fluff.
“Darby,” Mom snapped in that stop it right now tone. “Be
sweet.”
“But, Mama, he can’t even feel it.” I beamed. “Look!” I
squeezed the sheep’s wool again.
The animal continued to ignore me, finding the grass in my
grandfather’s pasture much more interesting than the annoying
American girl who’d come to visit.
I’d never been to Ireland before. I’d never even been on a
plane before, so the entire trip to attend my grandmother’s
funeral was full of new sights and sounds, but the one that
delighted me the most wasn’t the view from the clouds or the
rainbow-colored shops and houses we’d passed on the bus to
Glenshire. It wasn’t the musical accents or old-timey clothing
of the people we’d met along the way. It was the big, colorful
dots spray-painted on every fluffy white sheep in my
grandfather’s village.
“Grandpa, why do all your sheep have blue spots on their
butts? Is it so they’ll match your blue house? Is blue your
favorite color? My favorite color’s green. I like it here.
Everything’s green, green, green. Mama says that’s why they
call it the emerald eyeball.”
“Emerald Isle,” my mom corrected. “Isle means island.”
Her eyes were red and puffy that day, and her mouth was
frownier than usual. It made me anxious whenever she was
upset about something. Or when she got sick. Or when she
was too tired to play with me.
My mom was all I had.
While she stood there and scowled, my grandfather
snickered at my emerald eyeball comment. He was sad about
my grandmother, too, but that didn’t keep him from smiling
when he spoke to me. I hadn’t seen him since I was a baby, so
I didn’t remember him or my grandmother at all, but as soon
as I’d gotten there, he’d acted like we were already best
friends.
Grandpa bent forward and sank one knee into the grass,
making himself as short as I was. He did that a lot. It made me
feel special, like he was on my team instead of the grown-ups’.
“I do paint their wool to match my house. Yer very smart,”
he said. “Sheep are wily creatures. Even though they look fat
and none too nimble, they’re skinny under all that wool, and
they can jump like a billy goat.
I seen a sheep squeeze through
a gap in the fence no bigger than yer arm. But spray paint is a
lot cheaper than a good fence, so the other farmers and I paint
our sheep to match our houses. That way, when one gets out,
everybody knows who the little bugger belongs to.”
I giggled and squeezed the sheep’s wool again, right on that
bright blue spot.
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