Page 5 of Save a Wish

Or at least avoid living under Verdalach’s old-fashioned ways.

I dozed on the plane, but my dreams were filled with visions of my father and Verdalach’s guards coming for me and dragging me back home. I awoke with a start several times, annoying the older woman sitting beside me.

“Sorry,” I said for the third time.

“Is this your first time flying?” the woman asked.

“Yes.” It was my first time being anywhere other than Verdalach.

The woman’s face softened. “Flying can be scary. I was nine years old my first time. My parents had surprised me with a trip to Disney World. Only the hope of seeing Mickey Mouse and riding all the rides in the park got me on that plane.”

I didn’t know what Disney World was or who Mickey Mouse was, but a big smile had blossomed on the woman’s face so I gathered they were fun things.

“It was totally worth the flight,” she continued. “And I actually enjoyed the return flight. Been flying ever since without a worry in the world.” She patted my arm on the arm rest between us. “You’re going to be fine. We’re almost to Vermont anyway.”

“We are?” I hadn’t kept track of the time. Fionn and Orla had given me a phone, but I wasn’t sure how to use it and had stuffed it into my bag. I imagined it showed the time though.

The woman nodded. “Yup.” She opened her mouth to say more, but a ding sounded and the plane was suddenly filled with a man’s voice.

“Hey, everyone. It’s your captain from the cockpit letting you know we’re making our approach to Crestington Airport and should have you on Vermont soil soon. We hope you’ve enjoyed your flight, didn’t snore too loudly if you fell asleep, and maybe made a new friend with the person seated beside you.”

I smiled at the woman next to me and she returned the gesture.

“Pump yourself up for arrival and I’ll be back with an update in a few.” The cabin went quiet for a moment then the captain said, “Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you to look out those windows for a glimpse at Vermont fall foliage at its finest.”

I peered out the window, surprised to find a mix of orange, red, and yellow below. “It looks aflame.”

“Aflame?” The woman leaned over and let out a little chuckle. “I suppose it does. That’s a poetic way to describe it.” She nudged my arm. “Are you a writer?”

I shook my head and pressed my lips together, fighting not to say, I’m a runaway princess.

“Well, I am.” She stuck her hand out. Fionn had said handshakes were important to Americans. “I’m Connie Mills and I write adult fiction.” Her raised brow indicated she awaited my introduction.

I slid my hand along hers, giving it one firm wiggle as Fionn had instructed. “I’m Sadie Rodgers.” I didn’t have an occupation to attach to that name. Not yet. Fortunately, Connie didn’t press me for one.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sadie,” she said.

“Likewise.” I was pleased she’d accepted my new name without any suspicion. Perhaps this crazy scheme would actually work and I could cease being so nervous that it wouldn’t.

“Are you from Vermont or visiting?” Connie asked.

“I’m moving there.” I forced myself to sound definitive. “How about you?” Orla had advised me to get people talking about themselves to take the focus off the details of me—details I couldn’t provide until I figured out what I was going to do with this new life of mine.

Connie launched into the story of how she grew up in Maine and by the time she was ten, she’d migrated south and had lived in every New England state before finally settling on Vermont.

“I guess I had to try them all out first like Goldilocks or something,” she joked, not that I knew who this Goldilocks was. “Maybe I can save you the trouble. Build yourself a life in Vermont and you won’t regret it, sweetie.”

I hoped with all my heart that was true.

The captain had been telling the truth and we landed a short time after his initial announcement. I followed Connie to claim the one bag I’d checked as she collected her two.

“One of them is full of books,” she said. “I did a signing in Ireland. It was divine. I got rid of my own books and packed this suitcase full of new ones to read.”

Were any of them like Orla’s romances? Such books might be the first thing I bought in America.

We parted ways at the baggage claim and I found my way to the area where rides away from the airport could be ordered.

“Where to, miss?” the older gentleman behind the desk asked.