Page 42 of An Irish Hope

They collected the stray balls and returned to the hotel, and sat on the outdoor patio sipping drinks. A red setter drew close, and looked up with pleading brown eyes, until Aisling rubbed his ears, introducing the dog as Rover.

“Hello, boy.” Andy held out his hand for Rover to sniff, which he did, thumping his tail.

“Looks like you’ve got another friend.”

The thump of the dog’s tail seemed to suggest that.

“I guess you’re just a natural sportsman, aren’t you?” Aidan said.

His head veered up. “You know about my running days?”

Aisling nodded. “You’re actually almost famous.”

He shook his head wryly. “It’s not something I advertise. Who wants to be the man who didn’t make the Olympics?”

“Well, plenty of people are exactly that person. Look at the rest of us here.”

His lips curved.

“Most people don’t even get the chance to dream of going, so you did better than most to get as far as you did.” Aisling sipped her glass of water.

He shrugged. “It’s still not something I’ve quite reconciled with. Like, I know God has good plans for me, but I still struggle to see how any of that worked out for the best.”

“I think sometimes those things are mysteries for us to learn to live with, so we can trust Him more,” she said thoughtfully.

Hmm. He slid her a look. That hadn’t been the sort of response he’d expected from her.

“Like, what if what looks like the heavenly ‘No’ or the unanswered prayer is actually God protecting you from something else? Or preserving you for something better?”

Huh. His parents and sisters had said something similar. That perhaps God preventing him from going to the Olympics had been His way of exposing Greta’s fickleness, and protecting him from a lifetime with someone who didn’t truly love him. The fact that Aisling recognised the same felt a little special. Like she cared enough to notice and think about him and not give a pat answer.

He glanced at her as Rory and Aidan talked quietly. Aisling was studying her glass, as a water droplet slid down the side. Pensiveness wasn’t something he expected from her. So who was she? The firebrand with a dominant personality like the woman he’d first met? Or this softer, thoughtful version who might make him risk his heart?

He blinked, reared back. No. He couldn’t think like that. Could he?

Her head tilted, and she glanced back at him, her lips curved in a small smile. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He’d never admit to what he’d just been thinking.

She sipped her drink, her gaze shifting out to the water again. “You know, I think sometimes it’s easier to complain about what we think God is doing than take a step back and consider there might be some godly method to what might look like madness.”

He nodded, his heart softened by her encouragement. “It’s not easy, especially when you’ve spent your life working towards a certain goal, only to have it ripped away from you when it feels like it’s so close.” And that was true of both his Olympics dream and the other one that should have happened a year ago. Sometimes planning could only take you so far.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes held compassion.

But it didn’t feel like pity.

It felt like acceptance. Understanding. Like she understood him on a soul deep level.

The sun gleamed on the water, and glinted in Aisling and Rory’s hair. He wondered what Aisling was thinking. He’d been worried that she’d feel embarrassed after yesterday, but today she’d been fine.

“So, Andy, what are you doing tonight?” Aidan asked.

“I didn’t have plans,” Andy admitted. “I often schedule things a lot for work, so I’m trying the novelty of taking each day as it comes.”

Aidan sipped his drink. “And how is that working out for you?”

“It’s mostly okay. I know I tend to micro-manage so I’m always trying to do better.”