The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 5-7)

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The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 5-7) Page 8

by Tricia O'Malley


  “You heard that?”

  “Kitchen window was open.”

  Margaret groaned and rolled her eyes, imagining the group inside hanging on every word.

  “It’s complicated, Keelin.”

  “So make it uncomplicated.”

  Margaret laughed, shaking her head at her daughter. “Ah the innocence of youth,” she said, smiling at Keelin.

  “I’m not that young, may I remind you? And I’m certainly not innocent. Go after him, Mom. Don’t you want to take a risk?” Keelin asked.

  Margaret turned and looked out towards the water again, considering her daughter’s words.

  “I don’t know if I can take that risk,” she said softly.

  “This from the woman who left her country and started fresh on her own? Building up a real estate empire from nothing?” Keelin raised an eyebrow at Margaret.

  “That’s a different type of risk,” Margaret said, patting her daughter’s leg.

  “What are you afraid of?” Keelin asked, shaking her head.

  “I…I’ve worked really hard for what I have, Keelin,” Margaret said, surprised to find her voice cracking.

  “And you think that you’ll lose that?”

  “What’s the point of going back through all this? There’s a lot of hurt. Years of resentment. And even if we move past it…I have a life in Boston and he has a life here. There’s no point,” Margaret said.

  “I’m surprised at you,” Keelin said. “I’ve never thought you were someone who gave up so easily.”

  Margaret knew her daughter well enough to know that she was being goaded, so she just shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Keelin.”

  “Oh Mom, I just want you to be happy,” Keelin said, leaning over to pull her mother into a hug.

  “Honey, don’t worry about me. Go on your honeymoon. These are the best days of your life. Go…enjoy, relax. I’m fine. Trust me,” Margaret insisted, squeezing her daughter.

  “But you never got those best days. Don’t you think its time?” Keelin said as she stood to join Flynn, who was waiting by his truck.

  “Everything has its time, dear. Don’t try to force it,” Margaret said, stepping smoothly back into her role as mother. “Now call me when you get to the islands. Have a wonderful time.”

  “I love you,” Keelin said, dropping a kiss on Margaret's cheek and all but bouncing her way over to Flynn. Margaret shook her head at Keelin’s exuberance, but felt a lightness lift her heart at her daughter's obvious joy.

  It was all a mother could ask for.

  “Aye. It is. So what are we going to do about your joy?”

  Chapter 22

  Margaret whipped her head around to look at Fiona.

  “Stay out of my mind,” she said, only half-joking, uncomfortable with the brush of power she felt emanating from Fiona.

  Fiona came forward, a walking stick in each hand. Khaki pants, a button-down linen shirt and a wide-brimmed hat completed her hiking-in-the hills outfit, and Margaret knew they were going to the cove.

  “Stick?” Fiona asked, breezing past Margaret’s comment.

  “Sure,” Margaret said, standing up and taking one of the well-oiled walking sticks Fiona held. Together, they set out across the meadow, though they moved more slowly than Margaret remembered from her youth. With a jolt, Margaret realized that Fiona was slowing down.

  “Beautiful day,” Fiona commented as they made their way over the gently sloping hill along a well-worn path in the grass that led directly to the cove. Ronan raced ahead of them through the field, his ears streaming behind him.

  “It is,” Margaret agreed, glad they were keeping the conversation light. And it was a beautiful day. There’s nothing quite like a sunny day in Ireland, Margaret thought, when the clouds have cleared, the threat of rain isn’t imminent, and a breeze gently blows the grasses. She took a deep breath, the scent of seawater and damp earth filling her nose.

  It smelled like home.

  Continuing on in silence, they reached the edge of the cliffs where the trail ended its easy path and began a switchback down the side of the cliffs. Margaret paused, allowing herself to soak in the sight of the cove, the very place she had sworn never to come back to.

  Fiona stopped, seeming to sense that Margaret needed a moment.

  Margaret stared down into the crystalline blue waters, lapping gently at a perfect half moon of a golden sand beach, the high cliff walls lovingly cupping the water in an almost perfect circle. Directly across from where they stood, a small entrance allowed the tide to flow out in and out from the ocean. At sunset, the light would pierce the opening and illuminate the cliff walls in a fiery display of arrogance.

  Margaret waited for the old anger to rise up inside of her. She’d hated coming here as a child, hated knowing that something about her – and about the cove – was different.

  Instead, she found herself being soothed by the gentle crash of the waves against the beach far below her, the cry of a gull swooping through the air making her smile.

  Where had her fear and anger of this place gone?

  “Ready?” Fiona asked.

  “I am,” Margaret said, meaning it. She slowly followed Fiona down the ancient path, keeping close to the rock wall, an eye on her mother’s pace in front of her. Though Fiona was slower than she had been in Margaret's youth, her step was strong and she navigated the path with a confidence borne from years of walking the hills.

  Margaret watched as Fiona gathered flowers and stones along the way, gathering her offering to the cove. Margaret was surprised to find she didn’t seem to mind that some things hadn’t changed.

  And wondered if maybe she was the one who had changed.

  Margaret watched as Fiona drew a wide circle in the sand with her walking stick, motioning for Margaret to step inside with her.

  Fiona opened her mouth to speak, facing the waters of the cove, her hands held high, full of their offerings.

  “Let me,” Margaret blurted out, interrupting Fiona and surprising herself.

  Fiona cast a look at her but didn’t say anything, simply nodding.

  Margaret cleared her throat and stared at the gentle blue waters in front of her.

  “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve been here. I…I was really angry. About a lot of things that happened here. I’m still not sure that I’m ready to accept everything about the powers that lie within your waters. Or that lie within me as well. But I will say that I’m sorry that I’ve turned my back on this world,” Margaret didn’t know if she was apologizing to the cove, Fiona, or herself. Perhaps all three. “I think I was too young to understand any of this. So, while I may never accept certain aspects of who I am. I no longer hate those who do claim their powers. So, I guess what I am trying to say is...we come in peace.”

  Margaret was surprised to feel tears surge into her eyes. She blinked them quickly away, watching as Fiona tossed her gifts into the water. Turning, the older woman reached out to squeeze Margaret’s hand, the press of her leathery skin warm against Margaret’s palm.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure if I would ever hear that from you. I’m glad you don’t hate us,” Fiona said, referring to herself and the others touched with something special.

  They walked along the beach as Margaret tried to sort through the tumbled thoughts rushing through her head. On one end of the beach, the emotions from nearly three decades ago seemed to pulse gently at her, reminding her of where she had given up her innocence.

  Of everything she’d given up since that time.

  It all seemed to twist and convolute in her mind, and she needed a moment to sort through her feelings.

  Finally, she blew out a breath and turned to Fiona.

  “I was just a kid,” Margaret said and Fiona nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “I was just a kid,” Margaret repeated, “And I was so angry. I wanted to be normal. I never wanted to be something different. Although I could see the good you did with your heal
ing, I couldn’t see the benefits of being different. I literally just couldn’t handle what I saw that night. And I was selfish because it was all about me. Who would accept me if I was the freak? How would I start my life if I had this extra power? I would never be able to tell anyone.”

  Margaret stopped as she found her chest beginning to heave with emotion. Fiona reached out and ran a hand down her arm, sending a cooling, calming force through her.

  Margaret ventured a smile. “Thank you. So I ran. I ran because Sean saw the cove glow that night. And he ran from me. He ran away and left me. It confirmed everything I had thought about who we were and what the cove meant to me and my future. And so I ran, as far away as I could,” Margaret said softly, turning to meet Fiona’s eyes.

  “I know why you ran. You never told me about the cove glowing, though,” Fiona said, musing over those words.

  “Well, it lit up like a million Christmas trees and Sean hightailed it for his car,” Margaret said bitterly.

  A snort broke her reverie and Margaret’s head shot up.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  Fiona gasped, smothering her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking.

  “I’m sorry. Just the picture of him running across the field from the light. I can’t…” Fiona laughed even harder and to her surprise, Margaret found herself joining in, feeling a lightness pervade the sadness of her memory.

  “Mom, it was so awful. But so dramatic and ridiculous,” Margaret said finally, wiping her eyes again.

  “It’s even funnier that he ended up with not one, but two daughters with Grace O’Malley’s bloodline.”

  “Yes, so he said. Seems like he’s all fine and dandy with the cove these days,” Margaret said, swooping her arm out dramatically.

  “Ah, yes. The angst of youth. You love strongly and rage fiercely. The true test of love, though, is if it can find its way through time,” Fiona said, turning to look at Margaret. Margaret stopped, feeling a flutter of nerves in her stomach.

  “Ah well, I think that ship has sailed,” Margaret said, digging her toe into the sand.

  “Do you know why the cove glows?”

  “Um, no, actually I don’t. To scare boyfriends away?” Margaret asked, raising an eyebrow and surprising another chuckle from Fiona.

  “Not quite. It glows in the presence of love. Real love. Familial love. Lasting love. And at its best? For true, strong, pure romantic love.”

  Margaret’s mouth went dry.

  “You mean Sean’s my...my true love?”

  “The cove seems to think so,” Fiona said softly.

  Margaret turned and stared at the waters, anger beginning to course through her. “Then why’d you have to go and scare him away?” she screeched at the water.

  Fiona reached out to wrap an arm around Margaret. “There’s a time for everything,” she murmured, echoing Margaret’s earlier words to Keelin.

  “Shitty timing,” Margaret cursed, feeling frustrated.

  “You know that our souls are here to learn lessons. Maybe you had a few lessons to learn first. Maybe you still have a few more to go,” Fiona said.

  “The easy thing would be just to go home,” Margaret said, bitterness lacing her words.

  “Aye, you’re used to running,” Fiona agreed, and Margaret felt her back stiffen.

  “That’s not fair,” Margaret said.

  “Isn’t it?” Fiona wondered and Margaret sighed, finding it hard to argue with the truth. She’d been running for years now.

  “Why does it have to be so hard?” Margaret asked, furious that everything in her life seemed to be a battle.

  “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth it,” Fiona murmured against her ear as they watched a wave roll in and swallow the circle they had drawn in the sand.

  Chapter 23

  Sean stared at the road ahead of him, mindlessly driving the route from Grace’s Cove to Dublin, just as he had done hundreds of times before.

  And yet this time felt so very different.

  Seeing Margaret again had almost swiped his knees out from under him. He’d been certain that he was over her – that she would just be a faded memory in his mind. He hadn’t been prepared for the feelings that washed over him.

  He’d damn near wanted to rip David McCormick’s head off when David had taken Margaret for a spin on the dance floor. Sean’s possessiveness had surprised him at first.

  But he was a successful businessman now and used to making decisions quickly. One look at the vulnerability in Margaret’s eyes at the rehearsal dinner had brought it all back to him.

  She’d hovered near the door, unsure of her welcome, looking lovely in her pastel pencil skirt and silk blouse, pearls at her throat. All buttoned up and prim, just waiting for him to rediscover what was under her shirt.

  Sean groaned and slammed his fist onto the steering wheel.

  Their past was such a mess.

  At least he’d been willing to try again, Sean thought and punched the steering wheel again. He was angry at Margaret for not falling into his arms, angry at himself for leaving her again.

  Certain that he’d screwed up, Sean continued on towards Dublin, forcing himself to let go of a dream unrealized.

  It was just too late for all that, he thought.

  Chapter 24

  Margaret stood at her bed, her suitcase open, as she folded a blouse, her hands trembling with indecision.

  “You’re going to go to him, aren’t you?” Fiona said from the door.

  “I think that I have to,” Margaret admitted.

  “Good, ‘bout time you showed some backbone,” Fiona sniffed.

  Margaret turned and raised an eyebrow at her mother.

  “Yes, because starting a business while raising my child on my own in another country clearly showed little backbone,” she said dryly.

  Fiona chuckled, caught. “Fair enough.”

  “I’m sorry if this cuts our visit short,” Margaret said suddenly, realizing that she was ditching out on the few days that she and Fiona had planned to spend together.

  “You’ll be back,” Fiona said simply – and Margaret realized she was right.

  Even leaving Sean out of the picture, there was no way Margaret wouldn’t be coming back to see Keelin and Fiona.

  “It’s an easy flight from Boston,” Margaret agreed, zipping her suitcase up and dropping it to the floor.

  “Maybe I can come see it someday,” Fiona said gently, and Margaret realized she had never truly invited her mother to come visit her.

  “Yes, I’d love that. In fact why don’t we start planning it? I’ll buy you a ticket when I get home.”

  “I’d love that,” Fiona said, stepping forward with her arms out.

  Margaret bent and wrapped her arms around Fiona, pulling her close, and allowed her shields to drop so that the full force of her mother’s love pulsed through her.

  Maybe she needed to feel that, truly feel that, with all of her gift, in order to finally let go of the past, Margaret thought as she stepped back.

  “I love you very much,” Margaret said, pressing her hand to her mother’s cheek.

  “You too. Oh, and Margaret,” Fiona said as Margaret stepped past her, pulling her suitcase behind her.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t fall into your old patterns.”

  Margaret bit off the automatically sarcastic response and studied Fiona.

  “I’ll do my best not to.”

  Chapter 25

  “Left side, left side,” Margaret repeated to herself, forcing her rental car back from the right side of the road. It appeared she’d been living in Boston without a car long enough to forget how precarious driving in Ireland could be.

  It would be at least two more hours before Margaret reached Dublin, and the time in the car had allowed her to think about what she was going to do.

  Trying to rekindle a romance with someone she'd known for a few months, twenty-eight years ago? Who was she kidding?

  Marga
ret laughed at herself, shaking her head. She didn’t even identify with that person anymore, couldn’t even remember half of the things she had thought about or said during that period in her life. Time had done its job, blurring the memory of the girl she once was, leaving only a vague emotional imprint of that time in her life.

  Sean’s the love of your life.

  Fiona’s words echoed in her head.

  How could you love someone when you barely knew them? Sure, at nineteen she had been all caught up in hormones and dreams of a new life, but now? Margaret highly doubted that love could persist like that.

  Yeah, maybe I am a little jaded, she thought with a sniff.

  It hadn’t been easy being a single mother in Boston twenty-eight years ago, Margaret thought, remembering the difficulties of traversing a new country, raising Keelin, and forcing her way into the fairly male-dominated real estate industry.

  Love life? She laughed to herself. It hadn’t been until Keelin was in her teens that Margaret had even come up for air from the demands of her job to consider dating. Then, she’d thrown herself into the dating scene with relish, choosing only the best and most esteemed men she could find in the city, men who were sophisticated and suave.

  Everything that was worlds away from the men she would find in Grace’s Cove.

  From Sean, if she was being honest with herself.

  And since this trip seemed to be about being honest with herself, Margaret shrugged and admitted that yes, she definitely had dated the most successful men she could find, hoping desperately to feel that pull of attraction she had only found with one scruffy boy on a beach in Ireland.

  It hadn’t happened – not for lack of Margaret’s trying. After a few years of dating, she let that part of her life go and focused on her business and Keelin.

  What else did she really need?

  A life, Margaret thought. Maybe it was time to step outside of her whirlwind life in Boston and really live her life. She’d built up one of the most respected real estate agencies in Boston, had more money than she knew what to do with, yet she realized now – she was bored.

 

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