Aislinn padded down the stairs and opened the door a crack, peeking out into her back courtyard.
Nobody was there.
“Hello?” Aislinn called and stepped onto her back stoop.
Her heart skidded and skipped a beat as she saw a single red poppy sitting on her picnic table. Aislinn's breath hitched and she stepped further into the courtyard.
“Baird?”
Silence greeted her words and that is when she saw the second poppy. This one lay on the ground, a few feet from the table. Confused, Aislinn walked closer and saw another poppy a few feet further from the second. Bending to pick up the first two, she moved closer to the third, bent to pick it up, raised her head and saw another at the open gate to her courtyard.
The gate was never left open, she thought, and scurried to close it, picking up another poppy on the way.
As her hand fell on the smooth wood of the gate, she saw another poppy a few feet out. Aislinn leaned over the gate and tilted her head to see a row of poppies lining the sidewalk and disappearing around the corner.
A laugh, bordering on slightly hysterical, broke from her lips and Aislinn raced down the sidewalk, bending to collect the flowers, following her heart as she raced down the flower trail that Baird had left for her. The flowers wound down the sidewalk in front of her store and as she brought her head up, she realized that they ran all the way into the village. She began to laugh harder as she saw people looking at the flowers and at her in confusion.
Not caring, she began to run, stopping to scoop up the flowers, following the path that Baird had left for her, down to the harbor, past Flynn's restaurant until she found the last flower. Panting, she looked around for the next flower, for a clue, for something.
Aislinn turned in a circle, her arms full of flowers, and then she saw it.
Like a punch to the gut, love overwhelmed her. She sobbed into the flowers, so happy, wanting desperately to see Baird.
Above her, in the second-floor windows that ran the length of Baird's apartment, were her paintings, facing out and lit from below.
The Revelation.
They looked glorious in the windows, with the lighting playing off the waves that both ravaged and loved the painting. He'd bought it. Baird had been the buyer. Aislinn's breath shuddered out of her and she tried to wipe the tears from her face with her arms full of flowers.
“I get it now,” Baird's voice said from behind her and Aislinn's entire body stiffened. She turned, her heart full of hope.
“The glow?” Baird gestured to the painting. He looked tired, just as weary and mussed as she probably looked, Aislinn thought. She wanted to run to him, to hug him, but she sensed he needed to have his say.
“Yes?”
“It's true love, isn't it? The cove glows for true love.”
Aislinn's eyes filled with tears again and she blinked against them, Baird turning into a blurry image of color and shape.
“I believe in you, Aislinn. I believe in us. But, I have to ask you, do you?”
Aislinn choked out a sob, and nodded. “I do. I don't think that I fully realized it until I painted this painting. And even then, it wasn't until it was gone that I did. I painted my emotions without being able to see them.”
“But you knew…didn't you? What the cove glowing meant?”
“I did. I didn't want to believe it. Wasn't ready to,” Aislinn whispered, her body trembling, feeling awful for not telling Baird how she felt.
“Are you ready now?”
“I am, oh, Baird, I'm so sorry. I should have known you wouldn't hurt me like that,” Aislinn said and rushed to him, wanting to shout in joy when his arms came around her, crushing the flowers between them.
“I should never have emailed Matthew in the first place. It was a lesson in not needing to know all the answers right away. If I had just waited, I would have had all the answers I needed.”
Aislinn blinked up at him through tears and warmth spread through her as he brushed the gentlest of kisses across her lips.
“Can you tell how I feel? Can you?” Aislinn asked, pulling his hand to touch her heart beneath the flowers.
Baird laughed at her. “The Revelation told me everything that I need. Aptly named, at that.” He winked at her and then his face sobered. “Feel me, Ash. Go ahead.”
Aislinn dropped her mental shields and allowed his love to wash over her, a pure, fresh love that would tarnish and grow stronger with age. The type of love you built a foundation on and would hold up over the years.
The perfect kind.
“I love you,” Aislinn whispered against his mouth.
“Aye, I know,” Baird laughed at her and Aislinn felt her heart grow fuller for it.
“I'm going to have to buy that painting back from you,” Aislinn said, putting her business face on.
“We'll talk.”
Epilogue
Aislinn laughed as Morgan lectured a client on not touching the paintings. The girl had proved invaluable in business and Aislinn's career as an artist was thriving.
After the show, there had been such a demand for her paintings that she had agreed to license prints of her work to Red on Green Gallery. The prints had taken off and now she was selling around the world. She'd made more money in a month than she had over the past five years. For once, Aislinn was being smart and squirreling her money away. Her dream was to turn her apartment into a studio and to buy a place nearby.
Or even move in with Baird, she contemplated as she pawed through a folder of black-and-white photographs that she needed to frame. The relationship had blossomed into a full-fledge partnership and they spent their days discussing business, making love, and arguing about how much money Baird would sell The Revelation back to her for.
He was still holding out, she thought with a sniff, though it secretly pleased her that he wanted to keep the paintings.
“Ash, come out here,” Baird called from the courtyard.
“Be back in a bit,” Aislinn called to Morgan.
She stepped into the sunshine, though a chill had taken over the air. Baird looked every inch the Dr. Yum that Cait still called him in a button-down plaid shirt and dark jeans. He still wore the glasses and Aislinn always did her best to rumple his perfect hair at every chance she got.
“Hi,” Aislinn said, beaming up at him.
“Hi, yourself,” Baird said and tapped her nose with an envelope he held. “Come for a little stroll with me?”
“Sure,” Aislinn said, slipping her hand into his. He tugged her out of the courtyard and across the street to the house next door to her shop. Stopping suddenly, he turned to the front door of the house and raised his hand to knock.
“Baird, the Murphys moved out a month ago,” Aislinn said, pulling his arm to stop him from knocking.
Baird turned and smiled at her and opened his palm to show a key. Aislinn tilted her head at him in confusion as he slipped the key in the lock and pushed the bright red door open.
“Come on,” Baird said.
“Can we be in here?” Aislinn whispered, not wanting to get in trouble.
“Yes,” Baird said simply and led her through a small front foyer to where the first floor opened up into one room, including the kitchen. Aislinn's mouth dropped open.
“What's happened in here? This used to be a bunch of smaller rooms.”
“Aye, I had it opened up,” Baird said simply and Aislinn turned to him in confusion.
Her mouth dropped open as she saw what stood behind him.
“The Revelation,” Aislinn breathed.
It was hung on a long cream brick wall, looking as though it was made for the space, it fit so perfectly. Aislinn whipped her head around to Baird.
“I don't understand. Are you renting?”
Baird handed her the envelope. Aislinn opened it and unfolded the paper. It was a copy of a deed with Baird's name on it.
“You bought it?” Aislinn said, her voice rising to a screech.
“For us. If you'll mov
e in with me.”
Aislinn's mouth dropped open and her throat went dry, just for a second.
At her silence, Baird began to stammer, “See, I figured you would like the open space like this, and that you could use the apartment in your old place for a studio. There's a few bedrooms up top and a nice little courtyard. Easy commute to work.” Baird shrugged his shoulders and then let out an “oof!” as Aislinn launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“You bought me a house?”
“Us, I bought us a house,” Baird clarified with a smile.
“It's perfect,” Aislinn breathed against his lips and Baird chuckled.
“Thank God, as I don't think that I can return it.”
Wild Irish Rebel
Book 4 in the Mystic Cove Series
Sign up for information on new releases, free books, and fun giveaways at my website www.triciaomalley.com.
Please consider leaving a review online. It helps other readers to take a chance on my books.
Copyright © 2015 by Tricia O'Malley
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design:
Alchemy Book Covers
Editor:
Emily Nemchick
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.
If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting the author at: [email protected]
"There's nothing so bad that it couldn't be worse."
- Irish Proverb
Chapter 1
"Stop it!" Morgan McKenzie awoke on a screech, her throat burning as she clawed at her chest, gasping for air. The beginning of a panic attack burned in her stomach and she struggled to orient herself.
"Oh no." Morgan jerked her head up and tried to focus her mind away from her panic attack and on the more pressing issue at hand.
That issue being the entire contents of her small studio apartment levitating around her.
Including her bed.
"Okay, just breathe, focus," Morgan ordered herself, desperately trying to lower the objects that hovered around her. She didn't own much in this world and what she did was precious to her. If Morgan shattered her lamp because of a recurring nightmare that she had it would take her at least a week's worth of work to pay for another.
Morgan breathed a small sigh of relief as her bedside table and lamp settled back onto the ground. However, lowering her bed without creating a loud thump for her neighbors below was another thing, and she counted to ten in her head to force herself to concentrate before she timidly lowered the bed gently back onto the ground.
"Oh, this just has to stop," Morgan muttered to herself as she shoved out of bed and walked to the small kitchenette tucked in the corner.
The apartment was tiny and had just barely been within her budget, but Morgan didn't care. It was really nothing more than a large room tucked on the third floor of a small apartment building on the edge of town. But the worn wood floors and curved paned windows had appealed to Morgan and the high ceilings with exposed beams made the space seem larger than it was. With the help of her boss Aislinn, she'd been able to fit a double bed and loveseat, along with a table and two chairs, into the room. Prints of Aislinn's moody seascapes ranged across the brick wall, bringing color and movement to the room. Morgan had secretly delighted in buying a delicate sea-foam green comforter for the bed with matching towels for the small bathroom tucked off the kitchen.
It wasn't much, but it was home.
Aside from her van, this was the first space that Morgan could call her own. After years of being unceremoniously moved from foster home to foster home, Morgan had a natural aversion to putting down roots. Until she'd come to Grace's Cove and had found herself able to build friendships for the first time in her life.
And found people who shared similar gifts to hers.
It hadn't been easy for her…growing up without a family, struggling to understand an otherworldly ability that would seemingly act on its own accord. It had gotten so bad that the nuns had periodically tried to exorcize her of demons.
Morgan shuddered as she measured out coffee for her French press.
Talk about instilling deep-rooted insecurities, she thought. Morgan hated the dreams that forced her to relive that time in her life. The nuns had been convinced that they were acting on God's behalf. Only Baird, Aislinn's husband and the resident psychiatrist, had shown her that being tied to a bed and prayed over for hours was really a form of child abuse.
Baird. Morgan breathed out a sigh of relief as she thought of her mild-mannered psychiatrist and friend. He had offered her sessions for free at the request of his wife, and her employer, Aislinn. Her eyes teared up just thinking about how much they had both helped her in such a short time. Morgan was quite certain that she would simply die if she ever disappointed them.
And it wasn't just Baird and Aislinn that had helped her, Morgan thought as she impatiently waited for her coffee to brew. Flynn had taken a chance on her by hiring her to work on his fishing boats with him. His wife Keelin was coming into her own as a healer and she'd been pushing Morgan to spend time with her grandmother, and the greatest healer in all of Ireland, Fiona. Morgan's scalp itched as she thought about meeting with Fiona. She'd spent so long trying to hide her extra abilities that going to Fiona seemed like ripping a bandage off a wound. She just wasn't ready to tackle that step yet.
And then there was Cait and Shane. Cait was a bossy pub owner, now hugely pregnant, who had nosed her way into Morgan's life and began ordering her around like she'd known Morgan forever. Though Morgan put up a token fight now and then, she secretly couldn't help but love the fact that someone cared enough to boss her around. Cait's husband Shane had gotten her this apartment and Morgan was quite sure that he'd given her the family discount. A debt that she intended to repay with a free year of babysitting once their baby was born.
Morgan's mind circled back to Aislinn's gallery, Wild Soul. She'd taken a chance that day when she'd used her powers to stop a painting from falling from the wall. It had been such a beautiful piece that Morgan had reacted instinctively. Aislinn had witnessed Morgan using her power to save the painting and instead of running her out of town, she'd hired Morgan and had become her mentor.
Morgan didn't know whom to thank for the gratuitous turn of events in her life, but something had nudged her towards Grace's Cove. Finding a small town full of people who shared similar gifts to hers had been the best thing that had ever happened to her.
The scent of coffee teased Morgan's nose and pushed her out of her thoughts. Morgan sighed in relief as she reached up for her one and only mug, a rejected pottery experiment that Aislinn had deemed too ugly for sale. Morgan loved the overlapping cream and turquoise glaze and had insisted on taking it home with her. Drinking from it every morning was a reminder of how far she had come.
And just how much she had to lose.
Morgan's gaze tracked around the room, making sure that nothing had been broken during her nightmare. She'd yet to figure out how to control her power during her sleep, and most especially during her nightmares. It was one of the main reasons that she didn't date anyone and had never slept at a man's house.
She could only imagine a man's face if he were to awake to see a desk hovering above them. He'd run screaming into the night.
Morgan shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. "Just let it go," she ordered herself. These nightmares always made her feel melancholy and brought her right back to being tied to a bed while Father George screamed at her in Latin. She'd have to bring this up to Baird sometime.
Glancing at the clock, Morgan realized that she'd been lost in her thoughts for too long. She ducked into the bathroom and peered into the tiny mirror, grimacing at her reflection. Dark circles smudged eyes that couldn't decide if they were blue or green, and
her skin looked pale. She pinched her cheeks for some color and pulled her long dark hair into a braid before wrapping it into a bun. Stripping, she stepped into the shower and washed quickly, reaching out to take large gulps of coffee from the mug that she had placed on the counter. She wished that she could stay under the warm stream for a while longer, massaging the knots in her neck from a night of fitful sleep. Instead, she dried off in a hurry, brushed her teeth, barely glancing in the mirror before snagging her coffee cup on the run.
Morgan rarely applied makeup. What was the point? She worked on a fishing boat and didn't date, so she found little need for it. Morgan dressed quickly, pulling a simple t-shirt and waterproof fishing overalls on and tucking her feet into rubber-soled shoes. With a last glance at the clock, she grabbed an apple and a peanut butter sandwich from the fridge and left her tiny apartment.
Morgan tried to walk softly down the worn wood steps that led to the front foyer of her apartment building. It was just shy of 4:30 in the morning and she suspected that the other tenants wouldn't take kindly to her waking them up at this hour.
The crisp morning air welcomed her as she stepped onto the street of small town Grace's Cove. Named for the stunning cove that was tucked into the cliffs outside the town, it was an accepted fact around town that Grace O'Malley, Ireland's infamous pirate queen, had chosen the cove as her final resting place.
And, in doing so, had protected the cove with powerful magick. Most of the residents of Grace's Cove wouldn't speak of the magick that was found inside the cove; instead, they steered far away from those enchanted waters, knowing that only harm could be found there. Thousands from around Ireland flocked to the town, thinking that they would be the ones to finally venture into the cove and find the reputed treasure that Grace had buried there. The government had finally put up signs warning of a powerful current and forbidding people to enter as a safety measure.
The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 1-4) Page 51