Kayleigh’s Knight - Prologue & Chapter One

Prologue

“We need more emotion. These are lines of love, so speak from the heart! Okay, please have a seat.” Mrs. Bello waved her hand dismissively, and Ellie and Travis hurried to their seats. I looked back to the Foundations of British Literaturescript on my desk.

“We need two more people,” Mrs. Bello murmured. She adjusted her red-framed glasses and glanced around the small classroom, pausing momentarily on a portrait of Jane Austen hanging on the wall.

She let out an audible sigh before catching my eye. “Oh, that will work nicely indeed!” After a moment of consideration her thin lips pulled into a grin. “Kayleigh, you will be Marianne.”

Marianne, the middle Dashwood sister from Jane Austen’s classic Sense and Sensibility. I tried to keep my face neutral, but inside I was thrilled. Marianne was my literary twin—the character I felt united with throughout the novel. I understood her romantic and passionate heart in more ways than one.

“And Chris, you will be our Mr. Willoughby!” Mrs. Bello clapped her hands twice, the bangle bracelets chiming with her excitement. Her obvious satisfaction with her chosen characters evident in her upbeat stance.

While the rest of the class seemed to relax into their seats, safe from being called upon, heat prickled my cheeks. Chris Winters, the football quarterback, had never looked at me, let alone said anything to me. This past year I’d watched him from afar, dreaming of what it would be like to talk to him or have him smile at me in that way that made my heart skip. It looked like that was all about to change.

I pushed my dark, loose curls over my shoulder and walked to the front of the classroom, my fair skin pink with anticipation. The script crumpled in my tightening grip, and I forced my hand to relax.

“Alright, let’s begin with—”

The bell rang before Mrs. Bello could finish. A mix of relief and disappointment washed over me. Chris watched me closely. His left dimple deepened as a smile grew. His brown eyes locked with mine, and I quickly averted my gaze and walked towards the door.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Bello?” His voice stopped me in my tracks. “Would it be possible for me and Kayleigh to read our lines next class?”

My mouth fell open in surprise at his question. Chris Winters wants to read lines with me?

“Why, of course! That would be delightful!” Mrs. Bello beamed at him. “It’s good to see the young appreciate the fine work of Ms. Austen.” She shot another glance at the portrait on the wall. “I look forward to seeing your embodiments of Marianne and Willoughby!”

She walked back to her desk and jotted a note on her large, flowery desk calendar before opening an old dictionary and flipping through the pages.

I adjusted my backpack and stared at him, too shocked to say or do anything more.

“I hope that’s okay with you.” Chris’ head tilted slightly to the side, and amusement glinted in his eyes.

“It would be lovely.”

It would be lovely? Apparently, I’m living in the Regency Era like Austen.

“Lovely,” he echoed back. “See you tomorrow, Kayleigh.”

Then he walked out the door, right past Maddie, who was waiting patiently for me. She rolled her eyes, and I followed her into the hallway. As I fell into step next to my closest friend since grade school, I felt like I was in a dream.

“I’m in love.” I sighed—a big, dramatic one that would make even Mrs. Bello proud. “We’re going to be Marianne and Willoughby.”

Maddie adjusted her tortoiseshell circular rimmed glasses. “You do know that Marianne doesn’t actually end up with Willoughby though, right?”

Of course I knew that, but it wasn’t the time to get technical. Love wasn’t something to put perimeters on. Love was a matter of the heart, just like Mrs. Bello said.

Maddie nudged me with her elbow. “I didn’t think Chris Winters was your type.”

“Isn’t he everyone’s type?”

She scrunched her nose. “No. Not at all.”

“You’re just not a romantic like me.”

“True. You do take it to a whole new level. Just remember, not everything is like a novel.”

I linked my arm through hers and pushed the comment from my mind. “Come on. Let’s get to algebra.”

As we passed Chris and his friends standing by the lockers, he sent me a look that promised this was only the beginning.

Chapter One

                   “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me.”

       Chris runs a hand through his thick, light brown hair and sends a desperate look towards the door of the coffee shop. “Kayleigh, listen, we’ve been over this. You’re going to Ireland, and I’m off to ’Bama. Promised first backup to the quarterback.” He speaks like this should be explanation enough.

It’s always about football. I mean, it’s not like he’s even starting on the team. The first-string quarterback literally has to get injured for him to even play. And what’s with all the ’Bama talk recently? I guess it’s too hard to say the full name of the state. Al-a-ba-ma. Nope. Not hard at all.

“But,” I say, trying to focus, “I thought our relationship was—is—more important than that. Didn’t we say our love was unbreakable?”

He clenches his jaw. “No, you said that.”

“And you agreed! You said we could make it work. That we would find a way. That love conquers all!” A few heads turn our way as my voice rises. I cringe inwardly at my pleading tone and use of awkward clichés.

Chris shoots another longing look towards the door. Did he ever look at me like that? I push the question from my mind.

“Again, that was you.” His voice is slow and pointed, emphasizing the last word in a heartbreaking punch.

Could I really have gotten this so wrong?

“But,” I whisper in a shaky voice, “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales before reaching across the table for my hand. “This is for the best. Our lives are going in two different directions. We need to see what’s out there, you know?”

A runaway tear slides down the curve of my cheek, and I fight the urge to wipe it away.

“Alright.” Chris stands in a definitive movement. He drops a few bills on the table, covering the yellow shabby chic style linen napkins like a storm cloud covering the shining sun. “You’ll see this is for the best. Good luck, Kayleigh.” With a dismissive nod he walks out the door, bell chiming like the turning of a page in one of my audiobooks. The sound of a chapter ending.

Good Luck? After two-and-a-half-years together, that’s my goodbye?

“Can I get you anything else?” Jamie asks tentatively. Jamie, the unlucky server assigned to our table, is a sophomore on the Forest Haven school newspaper. As her editor for the past two years, I’ve had the chance to see her grow as a reporter and served as a mentor to her, showing her the ropes of the journalism club.

She stares at me now with a mixture of pity and what could only be described as excitement gleaming in her eyes. Like a cat that finally caught the mouse. Apparently, I was louder than I realized, and this story is just too good to pass up. The savageness of journalism strikes me, and not for the first time. There’s little room left for humanity when the story is there, ready for the taking.

“Ah, no thank you, Jamie.” I put on my best everything is just perfect smile, one that I’ve perfected over the years. I hand her the check and money, with only a slight tremble in my hands.

I walk out the cafe door with my head held high. I manage to trip only once before making my way onto Main Street—a feat if there ever was one in my current emotional state. The sun is setting on the familiar sight of the small-town shops and cafes. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves before the short walk home.

Head high, shoulders back. And just keep walking.

Magnolia catches me as I turn the corner. “Oh, Kayleigh.” She wraps me in a big bear hug. “Don’t worry. You’ll find your knight in shining armor one day. And when you do, you’ll ride off into the sunset together.”

My last vestige of control threatens to break.

“I’m fine, Magnolia, really. But, I’ve gotta go.” My voice cracks and the tears burn, screaming for an escape. I nearly run down the street.

A backward glance reveals Magnolia’s heart-shaped face is lined with concern. She has been a true friend to me over the past couple years. Her shoulder-length blonde hair is tied up in a loose bun on the top of her head. A few stray strands have come loose and hang around her peaches and cream complexion. When Magnolia bought the run-down cafe, she transformed it into the coziest alcove in downtown Berryville, Maryland. At just eighteen, she won the county’s entrepreneur of the year award when Magnolia’s Cafe opened four years ago. I was beginning my freshman year at Forest Haven, and the cafe was a place that immediately felt like a second home.

I’ve always thought that Magnolia ended up in Berryville for a reason. Her parents owned their own restaurant and tearoom, specializing in British cuisine and glamorous tea service, in her hometown of Boston. Magnolia was homeschooled and earned her high school diploma a year-and-a-half early, allowing her to take business classes at a local university. She worked closely with her parents in their business and looked forward to running the business on her own one day. That day came sooner than she expected.

One rainy night, Magnolia’s parents were killed in a car accident by a drunk driver, leaving Magnolia, their only child, brokenhearted and alone. It was too hard to continue on alone in the restaurant and their family’s brownstone, so she sold the business and family home. She packed her car with all her worldly possessions, including her mother’s collection of tea sets, and began driving south. Her course eventually took her through Berryville. She stopped in front of the run-down, boarded-up, white-shingled cafe with a For Sale sign, and knew it was meant for her. It was the literal sign she was looking for. Within a few days, the cafe was hers, and both she and the cafe had a new chance at life.

I’ve spent so much time in Magnolia’s Cafe that I can easily fill in on days when she needs help. But most days, I sit at the small back corner table, that has unofficially become my table. I open my notebook and lay it next to the glass vase with a single rose that Magnolia keeps fresh on all of the tables. My lined notebook pages are filled with pencil scribbled story ideas and poems. People strolling by the window become the inspiration for characters in my stories.

Magnolia is the one whom I share my stories with. We can talk for hours about the drama of high school, which Magnolia says is nothing compared to the spectacle of adulthood. We dream together about our fairytale endings over hot tea or slices of warm cherry pie topped with homemade vanilla ice cream from Bluebell Creamery. Magnolia dreams that the love of her life will walk through the door of the cafe one day, sweep her off her feet, and the rest will be history. She’s a romantic like me. Or like I used to be—before Chris broke my heart right there in the cafe full of dreams.

My breathing becomes more rapid as I turn down the lane to our farm. The sight of our 1800s-style white farmhouse is like the sun peeking out among the stormy clouds. Claddagh Farm and Animal Rescue hangs from the curved pinewood arch, its boldly carved letters sending a message that this land is a refuge for the unwanted and downtrodden. It’s a place of new beginnings. What began as a run-down farmhouse and overgrown land is now one of the most endearing and inspiring farms in Maryland.

Instead of going into the house, I walk past the horse pasture, ignoring the whinnies of the horses by the fence. I fix my eyes on the duck pond—my little corner of the farm. When I was younger, I begged Dad to build a pond, and for my ninth birthday him and Mom surprised me with the most magnificent 250-square-foot pond filled with fish, lily pads, and a running waterfall. Over the years, a fully sustainable ecosystem developed. Dragonflies, beetles, and mayflies colonized shortly after the fish were established. Frogs, toads, salamanders, turtles, and snails followed, creating a balance in my little corner of the farm.

At the sight of the rippling water and floating lily pads, my heart regains its steady rhythm. I sit on the black metal bench and run my fingers over the soft flowing branch of the neighboring willow tree. The tree roots are deep and resilient, while the branches are delicate and graceful—a perfect combination of strength and vulnerability. Few things bring me more peace than watching the water flow over the large stones of the arching waterfall.

A paw prods my leg, and I look down at Marianne, my blue merle Australian shepherd. I stroke her fur and wonder if her name was such a good idea after all. I was blinded by the idea of first love and a dream that had little resemblance to reality.

I hold her chin and whisper, “Why is this happening, girl?”

She stares back at me with concern in her stunning combination of blue, brown, and gold flecked eyes. Tilting her head to the side, she looks at me like I have all of the answers in the world. In reality, I don’t have any answers.

At the sound of quacking, she jumps up and begins herding the ducklings behind their mother.

“Eleanor, you’re a good mother.” I coo to the large white American Pekin duck as she waddles to the pond. Pekins are usually raised for meat, but Eleanor just showed up at our small pond one day and never left. When Dad mentioned keeping her for a roast, I broke into tears swearing I would care for her, and she deserved a second chance like the other animals on our farm.

Dad relented and now Eleanor has a brood of six ducklings.

“Marianne, no!” I scold as she nips at the last duckling before he hops into the water.

Marianne’s apologetic eyes turn to me as she lowers her head.

“It’s okay. Come here, girl.”

I can’t stay mad at her since she’s just doing what she was bred to do. Australian shepherds are highly intelligent and have a strong herding instinct. They often nip at the heels of cows and sheep to keep them moving in the intended direction. Unfortunately, a duckling isn’t as durable as the cattle and can get hurt a lot easier, so more care is needed.

When Mom came home with her, just an eight-week-old puppy with a broken right front leg, abandoned at their veterinary center, she looked like a matted ball of black, white, and grey tricolor fur. We don’t know who dropped her off at the center, but my parents are basically famous out here as the dynamic duo of vets. They have a reputation for taking in those most in need without any question or inquiry. They are a safe haven in our community. And while their focus is on horses, they are known to care for small animals when needed. My parents founded O’Reilly Equine Veterinary over two decades ago, not only a highly respected practice in our small town of Berryville, but the whole state of Maryland.

I took over the duty of nursing Marianne back to health. When her leg mended and she was fit and healthy enough to explore the farm, I took her to meet my favorite duck in the world. Marianne and Eleanor were friends from the moment they saw each other. More like family than friends really, so I thought the names of two of the sisters from Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility were appropriate for the two girls.

I have a bit of a Jane Austen obsession, and Sense and Sensibility is my favorite of her novels. Reading her stories sophomore year changed my view of the whole literary world. Always an avid reader, I took to writing and now spend every free moment doing one or the other. And when I can’t read or write, I’m dreaming up stories.

A gargled honking sounds as Juliet, our female swan, reminds Eleanor’s ducklings to keep their distance from her path. As the ducklings swim closer to the protective wings of their mother, Juliet sends a satisfied look to her mate, Romeo. Watching them together is seeing love in action. Most swans bond with a mate for life. When one passes away, the other will grieve, just like we do. Romeo and Juliet have been together for the better part of five years now.

Second chances are big in our family. Never one to throw away something because it’s broken, we take that same philosophy with the animals. My older sister Teagan and her boyfriend and science research partner Finn started an equine-assisted therapy program in Cloverdale, Ireland where they attend Emerald Isle University—the same university I will be at this time tomorrow.

Being at the pond has done the trick again, and I’m feeling more at ease than I could have imagined an hour ago. Rounding the back of the house, I stop in my tracks.

How could I have forgotten about my going-away party?

It’s like a punch in the gut to see the couples dancing under the twinkling lights of the gazebo. Silver and gold streamers sway in the breeze as a soft piano melody drifts through the air, creating a magical dreamlike atmosphere.

My stomach turns at the thought of having to face everyone. The vision I once had of dancing with Chris floats away on the light breeze, replaced with an intense loneliness.

“There you are!” Teagan’s voice breaks through my thoughts as she wraps me in a big sister hug.

Teagan is the oldest at nineteen. Often mistaken for twins, we have the same long dark hair and sky blue eyes. At five foot six, we’re a good four inches taller than our youngest sister, Ashling. And while we all have the same fair complexion, Ashling’s is scattered with freckles; her auburn hair and bright green eyes set her apart.

 Ashling tilts her head and studies me. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” I reply, a little too quickly.

She raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because you look like how I feel at these parties.”

Even in my mood, I can’t help the small laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly how I dreamed this particular party would be.”

Teagan glances around. “If you don’t like the decorations, we could—”

“No, it’s not the decorations. Everything is perfect.” I wave a hand around the yard. “It’s just…Chris broke up with me.”

While they look surprised at this announcement, neither look particular unhappy about it. They exchange a not-too-subtle look, and I clear my throat expectantly.

“I’m so sorry, Kay,” Teagan finally says, taking my hand. “That’s…awful.” Something in her tone doesn’t ring quite true.

Ashling fails to stop the grin forming on her lips.

“Why are you smiling?” I narrow my eyes at her.

Teagan glances back and forth between us, worry evident in her expression. Ashling and I have a long history of not seeing eye to eye—something she never seems to hide.

Ashling considers my question before unabashedly allowing her smile to grow. “Because I’m glad you guys broke up.”

Heat creeps up my neck, prickling my cheeks.

Teagan holds up a hand. “I’m sure Ashling means—”

“I mean what I said. And she knows what I mean.” Ashling looks me straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry you’re upset right now, but honestly you deserve so much more than him and that relationship.”

Tears burn my eyes, and Ashling’s expression falters. “Kayleigh, you’re my sister and I love you. So much. But, I’m not going to lie to you. And I think in time you will agree that this is a good thing.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep it from shaking.

“He’s a jerk, Kay. He always has been."

I feel the urge to defend him, but I can’t find the words. I tell myself this is because I’m not feeling like myself at the moment and not because there’s any truth in her words.

“Listen.” Ashling takes my other hand. “Just say the word, and I’ll head over there right now and give him a piece of my mind.”

I let out a pained laugh and wipe the few runaway tears.

“I love you both,” I tell them.

That’s the thing with my sisters—no matter what happens I know we will always be there for each other.

 ***

It may be a party in my honor, but I’m drifting about the grounds without actually connecting with anyone. I slide through the side gate and round the corner of the house. I stop just out of sight and lean against the old maple tree. As I close my eyes, images from the cafe flash before me.

He’s gone.

Everything I imagined about the future included him. After college, Chris would take over his family’s banking business while I would accept an offer for a prestigious reporter position. We would get married in our town chapel and have a huge ball as our reception. Then, when we started a family, I would stay home with our babies while working part-time for the newspaper. It would be perfect.

A perfect disaster. The thought comes before I can stop it. Did I always somehow know it was going to turn out this way?

“Hi.”

The soft scent of lemon wafts through the air.

“I’m sorry I left like that,” I whisper to Magnolia as I open my eyes and see her standing by me.

“Oh, Kayleigh, my heart breaks for you.” She gives me one of her warm smiles that lets you know she genially cares. “You know I’m always here. And I’ll be in Ireland in just a couple of months.” She leans against the tree next to me.

Magnolia is always there for me. She been saying that she’s due for a vacation, but she hasn’t had one since opening the cafe. This is the perfect time for a trip to Ireland. A break for her and a much-needed comfort to me. And I’m even more grateful for her upcoming visit now.

Excitement and dread fight for dominance in my heart. “Thanks. I'm just…trying to figure this all out. It was so unexpected.”

She averts her eyes, much like Teagan and Ashling had done. Does everyone have a secret dislike of our relationship that I never knew about? And as it seems to be the case, why didn’t anyone say anything?

“I wish he hadn’t left so quickly.” Magnolia walks a few steps towards the rose bushes before turning back around. “I would have loved to have thrown him out of the cafe.”

“I would’ve liked seeing that.” That’s an image I can appreciate right now.

“You and me both.”

“How has my life changed so much in just a few hours?” It's like I turned the page in one of my books, and it’s blank.

“On a positive note, you have a chance for a fresh start in Ireland. You never know what—or who—you will meet. It may actually be perfect timing.” She says this with more excitement than I feel.

But the thought does lift my spirit ever so slightly. “When God closes a door, He opens a window, right?”

“Absolutely. And maybe this window will give you a chance to find yourself again. You were with Chris for so long that it was like your whole life was centered on him and your future with him.”

How true her words are. “You’re saying that I let everything revolve around him and what he wanted?”

She considers this. “Not exactly.”

“But close enough?”

It’s her turn to sigh. “When he was around, it was like you were only part of yourself.”

I begin to protest, but I’m reminded of what Ashling said. Magnolia and my sisters know me better than anyone. Maybe they are right. And the fact that I’m not completely denying it says more than their words do.

Magnolia watches me for a moment before continuing. “Now you are completely free to be yourself all of the time. And I, for one, am so excited to see it.”

I always tried to be the perfect girlfriend to Chris, but I never considered what I was losing in the process. I wasn’t completely myself around him. In being his girlfriend, I lost a part of myself. I never thought about it before, but looking at it now, I see it in a new way. Even so, it still doesn’t take away the hurt. But maybe this will be a much-needed fresh start.

“You’re right,” I say, determination edging my shaky voice. “Maybe Chris dumping me is a blessing after all.”

The crack of my voice when I say his name causes the sympathy to deepen in Magnolia’s eyes.

“Not maybe. Definitely,” I say, stronger now. “I’m going to take a page from Elizabeth Bennett’s book.”

The sympathy fades to pride. “A good heroine if there ever was one.”

I nod. “She never let anyone walk over her or push her aside.”

“No, she didn’t,” Magnolia agrees. “But, remember the whole pride and prejudice thing. Don’t let what happened with Chris make you assume all guys are like him.”

“True.” I recall the love story of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. How mistaken they were at the beginning because of their preconceived notions.

“But, if you run into a Mr. Collins, stay as far away as you can.”

We both giggle at her reference to the pompous, conceited, and materialistic clergyman vowing to win Elizabeth's hand in marriage. It's become a thing with me and Magnolia to warn each other of the Mr. Collins of the world. The weight on my chest lifts just the slightest bit, but before I can enjoy the feeling, a shrill shriek stops our laughter. Glancing behind us, I spot Tori Banks balancing on one leg as she removes her white sandal, covered in dog mess. Her long blonde hair falls over her shoulder as she shows the two immaculately dressed girls with her the soiled shoe.

I groan. “Why did she of all people have to step in it?”

Magnolia grimaces. “Well, it is a farm. You need to watch where you’re walking. Everyone knows that.”

“Tori has never been one for this or any farm.” I watch as she waves her hand in front of her nose.

“Honestly, how you two are even friends amazes me.” She shakes her head.

Tori holds the hands of the two girls on either side of her and hops to the wooded bench. Once she’s seated on the bench, Alice Dean, the shorter of the two girls, takes the sandal and hurries away—no doubt ready to clean it herself. Jackie Horn, the taller girl, sits by Tori, comforting her with wide-eyed panic like this is the worst thing that could possibly happen.

“We’re not really friends.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it is both a sad and freeing admission. Tori and I only started hanging out after Chris and I began dating. She was the captain of the dance team and dating Luke Jones, Chris’ best friend and the tight end on the football team. My stomach sinks at the realization that I will have to tell people we broke up.

“Now that one, I’ve always liked.” Magnolia points to a short girl in white jeans and a yellow and white checkered buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Maddie’s wearing brown cowgirl boots—ones that are worn in and aged from her time competing in barrel racing. Her shoulder-length, wavy, sandy blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail revealing a round, freckled complexion and light brown eyes behind brown and tan glasses. Long white feathers swing from her ears as she throws a ball for Marianne, who catches it midleap by the gazebo. Her bobbed tail wags with excitement as she bounds back to Maddie.

“Kayleigh!” Tori’s high-pitched voice calls from the bench. She slips her now clean sandal back on her foot and hurries over to us, Alice and Jackie at her heels. “I’m so sorry to hear about you and Chris. I just can’t believe it. I bet he will come to his senses and come crawling back.”

I guess I won’t have to tell people after all.

“Maybe she doesn’t want him crawling back at all.” Magnolia’s soft voice is a contradiction to Tori’s overly loud tone.

Tori raises an eyebrow at Magnolia like no one in their right mind would ever not want Chris. Magnolia stares right back at her.

 Would I want Chris back? Part of me jumps at the thought of us getting back together and everything being the back to how it was. But the other part, the newer part, wants to keep that door closed.

“Hi, Tori,” I finally say, my voice steadier than I feel. “It was a surprise, but I think it will all work out for the best.”

“Well,” she says, obvious disappointment in her expression, “I hope it will. And I’ll be at ’Bama with Chris, so I’ll be sure to put in a good word.”

My hands tighten into fists.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Magnolia says, throwing a protected glance my way.

Tori is about to reply, but I cut her off.  “Looks like the food’s ready.” I point toward the backyard tables and my escape from this conversation.

I guide Tori and the girls over to the food table and then step to the side with Magnolia and Maddie.

“You okay?” Maddie takes a bite of her brisket sandwich.

I sigh. “Marianne doesn’t end up with Willoughby. Just like I don’t end up with Chris. That day in Brit Lit seems like a lifetime ago, and only yesterday at the same time. I thought we were destined to be together. I was just as naive and ridiculous as Marianne had been. I guess I should expect a deadly fever soon, one where I can sort through the mess of my life and come out on the other side with renewed hope and understanding.”

“Or,” Maddie says, “maybe you can avoid the serendipitous walk in the cold rain and near-death experience and just go straight to the reevaluation of your life part.”

“Now, that is a plan,” Magnolia says. “And remember, if Marianne hadn’t lost Willoughby, she would never have found her true love in Colonel Brandon.”

Maddie nods. “And theirs was a love that lasts. You just have to be open to a new adventure.”

A new adventure feels right in this moment. In a few hours I leave for Ireland, the land of saints and scholars, and nothing is holding me back. I have the distinct feeling that what’s about to come around the corner will forever change my life.