Chapter 12

Fleecy clouds frolicked on the breeze like spring lambs, drawing Sean’s eyes upward. Setting his flask of tea aside, he eased onto his back with a heavy sigh. The freshly thatched roof, coarse yet forgiving, cradled him as his thoughts joined the clouds in their gamboling.

It had been a long time coming, but he had finally come home. At long last he was in the place he had been pining for all that time he was away, working now with the best mentor a man could hope for. So why did he still feel so restless?

His eyes drifted from sky to sea. She was calm today, her skirts of waves swirling like a lace gown in a waltz. Despite the peaceful scene before him, Sean couldn’t deny the angst churning deep within his heart.

“What’s your secret, old girl? How can you be so at peace?” Sean’s fingers found a loose strand of reed and brought it to his mouth. A familiar taste. Earthy. Rooted. Comforting. And a distraction from other thoughts he wrestled to untangle.

“Ya know, you’ll never plow a field by turnin’ it over in yer mind, lad.” Colm raised both woolly eyebrows but light sparked in his eyes. He nodded to his apprentice and climbed toward the ridge of the roof. Sean was familiar with the old proverb. It was one of Colm’s favorites when the lad was a little too restful for the man’s liking.

“Why do I always feel like you’re sayin’ more than what your words mean, Colm?” Sean chuckled as he heaved himself to standing.

“Come, now.” The old man’s voice was reassuring. “Ya know that when it comes to work, I’m all business.”

Colm always managed to have a twinkle in his eye, even when reprimanding. How was that? A smile played on both men’s lips. Sean joined his mentor at the ridge of the roof.

“All jestin’ aside, I canna help but notice ya seem a mite troubled of late. As though yer soul is in a wrestlin’ match with Fionn mac Cumhaill himself.”

“Aye,” Sean murmured. He might as well have been scrapping with the legendary giant the way his thoughts bandied him about. How much should he tell the old man? The truth of it was, Sean felt deep down he was meant to do something truly meaningful with his life, and he wasn’t sure how thatching was going to bring that to pass. Yet he loved and respected Colm and did not want to insult his life’s work.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I am so happy to be here in Ballymann. And I’m honored to be workin’ with the likes of ye.”

The twinkle returned to his mentor’s eyes as he cleared his throat and shifted his weight, clearly embarrassed by the compliment.

“It’s just that, well”—he paused, searching for the right words—“I’m grateful for the job, and to learn such an honorable trade. But deep down, I just want something . . .”

“More?” Colm finished for him.

Sean’s gaze shot up to meet the old man’s. Relief swept over him as he recognized nothing but compassion in Colm’s expression. “Well, yes.”

“Sit with me, lad.”

Both men bent carefully to perch themselves on the crest of the ridge. Colm’s large hand, calloused with time and hard work, rested on Sean’s shoulder.

“A man’s life is a high calling, to be sure,” Colm began. “And the fact that ye’re so moved to distress is a blessin’.”

Sean’s brow furrowed.

“A man who lives only for himself is a man with few convictions,” Colm continued. “However, conflict is not absent from his life. On the contrary! That man’s life is chockablock with the agony of constantly fightin’ to protect his own.”

Sean nodded slowly.

“But a man who lives according to a higher purpose”—Colm’s finger pointed skyward as he continued—“that is a man whose life may, too, be overflowin’ with conflict, but it’s the fight to protect others. Surely, his calling is to do rightly, to love compassionately, and to walk respectfully with his God.”

“I see,” Sean replied, fearful his face belied his words.

“Ya see, lad, it doesna matter a lick if ye’re a priest, a barkeep, or a thatcher by trade. When ya seek to love the Laird wit’ all yer heart, soul, an’ mind, and then seek ta love others selflessly, ye’re a man who will make a difference in this world one pairson at a time.”

Understanding dawned in Sean’s heart. The old man had a knack for helping him see truth in murky waters.