Lyla is just seventeen when one moment changes her life forever. Now she is spending her senior year pregnant and her boyfriend, Patrick, is working at his grandfather’s fruit market to support his new family instead of going off to college. During a difficult day, an Irish exchange student, Rowena, comes to Lyla’s rescue and tells her fascinating stories of her family’s haunted castle back home whose ghost knows how to please a woman. While Patrick rolls his eyes, Lyla is enthralled.
For the next twenty years, Patrick promises Lyla he will take her to Ireland to visit Rowena and see the castle. But when he becomes ill and passes away, Lyla is left to pick up the pieces of her shattered life and contemplate what is next. After she decides to visit Ireland, Lyla touches the castle walls. As her world begins to shift, Lyla is left wondering whether grief is making her lose her mind or if is it really possible that the castle’s ghost looks just like her husband.
In this romantic tale, a woman journeying through loss visits a castle in Ireland and becomes romantically entangled with a three-hundred-year-old ghost who shockingly resembles her deceased husband.
The first time they had pulled into the driveway to drop off Matthew, she had started to get out of the truck with the brothers. Patrick had put his hand on her leg and told her to stay in the cab. When he had gotten back in the truck she had asked him what was going on. He told her, “This way works best.” She knew the subject was closed so she never asked again.
Tears welled in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m sorry Patrick.”
Shit he thought when he saw the fear on her face. Didn’t she know he would never hurt her? He wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself. He knew to keep his pants on. “Lyla, I’m the one that’s sorry,” he said as he moved across the blanket and wrapped his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked as she laid her head on his shoulder and cried.
Resting his head on top of hers he stared off into the water, wondering the same thing. Neither of them knew how long they held each other, when he kissed the top of her head and stood up. “Come on,” he said as he reached his hand down to help her up.
“Where are we going?” she asked taking a hold of his hand and stepping off the blanket.
He reached down to roll the blanket up and tucked it under his arm. Stepping over to where she stood with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, he unclasped her fingers and lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. Entwining his fingers with hers he said, “I’m going to talk to your father.”
She jerked back on his hand to stop him as he took a step forward. “Patrick we cannot go talk to him,” she pleaded with fear on her face once more. “He is going to be too angry. Can’t we wait a few weeks before we tell them?”
“No, we can’t wait Lyla. We need to take care of this now,” he said as he pulled her along the path.
They rode silently to her parent’s house. Patrick pulled in her driveway and turned to take a hold of her hand as they stepped out of the truck. She stood looking down at the ground, her feet refusing to move any further. He put his hand under her chin and lifted it up so she would look at him. “It’s going to be ok Lyla,” he said as he bent down to lightly kiss her on the lips.
How can he be so calm she wondered as she looked into his eyes and saw him smiling down at her? She was so terrified her knees were shaking and she could not talk.
“Come on,” he said as he pulled her forward and shut the truck door. “It’s not going to be that bad.”
No, it’s going to be worse, she thought. They walked into her house and saw her parents sitting on the couch watching TV. Susan stood up when she saw the look on Lyla’s face, instinctively knowing what was wrong. It mirrored the look she had on her face when she had to give her parents the news. She opened her arms and Lyla let go of Patrick’s hand to rush into her Mother’s arms as she began to cry.