“Says the woman who has lived in the same cottage for over forty years,” Margaret said, raising an eyebrow at her mother as they got out of the truck.
“Ah, well, there are other ways to change that don’t involve a location change, you know,” Fiona sniffed and hauled her small bag from the back of the truck, leaving Margaret to carry her own luggage to the cottage.
“You’ve got wifi in this place, right?” Margaret asked, looking around the main room before taking her first bag back to her childhood room.
“Of course. What do you think I am? Ancient?” Fiona sniffed and Margaret covered a smile as she went to get the rest of her luggage. An internet connection was all she needed to get started on an apartment search in Dublin. She was also seriously considering doing some volunteering so as not to be stuck with too much free time. Margaret wasn’t comfortable with being idle.
Margaret settled her bags in a corner. Stretching, she worked out the aches from the flight, stopping to make use of the little bathroom before joining her mother in the main room.
Fiona moved to the sink and pushed the window open, encouraging a spring breeze to sweep through the house. A joyous bark had her jumping back from the sink.
“Ronan!” Fiona squealed and dashed out the door, Margaret following in her wake with a smile on her face. She turned the corner of the house to see Fiona on her knees, hugging an ecstatic Ronan as he wiggled in her grasp, desperately swiping his tongue across Fiona’s face.
“I think he may have missed you,” Margaret suggested, laughing at the pure joy on Fiona’s face.
“I just love this dog,” Fiona agreed.
Margaret’s head popped up at a shout from the hill. Looking up at the ridge that separated Flynn’s land from Fiona’s, Margaret saw Keelin standing there with another dog. Waving, she found herself starting to half-laugh, half-cry as Keelin stumbled down the hill and raced to her. In moments they had their arms around each other and were doing their best to not turn into a weepy mess.
“I’m sorry,” Keelin gasped out, pulling back to wipe her eyes. “I’m just so emotional.”
The dogs raced in circles around them, barking out their joy.
“Hormones,” Margaret said, wiping her own eyes with a laugh. “Oh, let me look at you.” Holding Keelin at an arm’s length, she examined her daughter for any changes. Other than the slightest of curves at her waist, nothing would have given away the fact that she was pregnant.
Aside from the pulse of love that Margaret could read coming from Keelin’s womb. She stopped for a moment and studied the feeling, realizing that it comforted her to be able to feel her granddaughter’s emotions from within the womb. It was an unexpected twist to her ability that she had never really realized she had.
“I can feel her,” Margaret said in awe, itching to reach out and touch Keelin’s stomach, but not wanting to be rude.
“Her?” Keelin gasped and Margaret slapped a hand over her mouth.
“It, I mean, it,” she rushed to correct her slip.
Keelin began to laugh, dancing around her mother and Fiona.
“Fiona! Is it a girl?”
“Aye, it is. Though this one should learn to keep her mouth shut,” Fiona said, glaring over at Margaret.
“That’s okay. I wanted to know. I already suspected. I swear I can hear her whispering to me in my dreams.”
“Sure and this one’s going to be a powerful one,” Fiona agreed. Margaret stiffened as she imagined what difficulties the baby could put Keelin through.
“That’s okay. Flynn and I can handle it,” Keelin said, easing the tension that had worked its way into Margaret’s shoulders.
“I’m so happy for you,” Margaret said and Keelin whirled to dance over to her mother again.
“I can’t believe you’re here! How long is your stay?”
Margaret cast Fiona a look before smiling at her daughter.
“That’s undetermined.”
“What do you mean?” Keelin asked, confusion crossing her pretty face. “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not. I sold the business is all. I’m here for the foreseeable future. Well, probably up in Dublin, but much more accessible than if I was in Boston,” Margaret said, hurrying through her explanation in order to ease Keelin’s worry.
“Shut. Up. You sold the business? I can’t…I don’t even know who you are!” Keelin exclaimed dramatically, causing Margaret to laugh.
“It was bound to happen at some point. I couldn’t keep running it my whole life,” Margaret said gently.
“Yes, but the business is your baby. Did you sell it to Jan? Oh, I hope you did. Or Katie. I love them both,” Keelin said eagerly.
“Yes, I sold it to Jan. And promoted Katie. They are ecstatic and under strict orders to visit once a year.”
Keelin squealed and danced again. “Yay! I can’t wait to show them my world. So, how long are you in Grace’s Cove for?”
“Probably a week. Then I need to get settled in Dublin.”
Keelin stopped and gazed at her mother, a knowing expression crossing her face.
“You’re going after Dad, aren’t you?”
Margaret blushed. It sounded so unladylike when Keelin put it like that.
“We’ll have to see what happens.”
Chapter 47
“I’m really proud of you, you know,” Margaret said to Keelin as they sat in the sun on Fiona’s picnic table. Typical of Ireland in the spring, the week had been full of moody days and this was the first chance they’d had to enjoy the sun. Fiona and Keelin had spent the week working on their craft, while also bottling and creating new elixirs and tonics. Margaret had even found herself dutifully labeling jars at the table, her old resentment over doing this type of work gone.
“You are? I was worried that you weren’t happy with me coming back here to learn about healing,” Keelin admitted.
“I can’t say that I was ecstatic about it. I’m in a better place with it now. More accepting. More understanding, I suppose. I don’t want you to think I wouldn’t be supportive of anything you do. I’m your mother and I’ll always love you,” Margaret said truthfully, realizing she probably should have said this to Keelin a long time ago.
“Thanks Mom. That actually means a lot to me,” Keelin said, blowing out a big breath in relief as she stretched her legs out from the table and lifted her face to the sun.
“Well, I should’ve said it sooner. I think I’ve been caught up in my own unhappiness,” Margaret admitted, surprised at her admission to her daughter. She supposed it was her month to learn and grow.
“You have been unhappy. For a long time, actually. I’m just glad you decided to shake it up a bit,” Keelin said, turning to meet her mother’s eyes. “All I want for you is to be happy too.”
“Oh honey, I’ll be fine. No matter what. You don’t have to worry about me,” Margaret said, reaching out to squeeze Keelin’s hand.
“Being fine and living your life to the point of happiness are two totally different things,” Keelin pointed out. “Grace showed me that.”
Margaret stilled.
“Excuse me? Grace did? Is that a friend of yours?” she asked hopefully.
“No, Grace O’Malley. She appeared to me, you know. She’s appeared to all of us. Except you…unless you haven’t told me?” Keelin asked, raising her brow at her mother.
“The Grace O’Malley appeared? As a ghost? No, I’m sorry, I can’t say I’ve had that specific delight,” Margaret murmured, shaking her head in disbelief at her daughter. Maybe hormones were making Keelin a little loopy, she thought.
“She did. When I tried to heal Flynn and almost lost my life. She let me make a choice about choosing love. I’m surprised she didn’t show for you, back when you moved to Boston,” Keelin mulled, dismissing the craziness of her encounter as she tried to figure out why Margaret hadn’t had a sighting yet.
“Keelin. You know this sounds a little crazy, right?” Margaret broke in.
&nbs
p; “It’s true, though. You should know by now that anything goes in the cove,” Keelin said simply.
“I suppose,” Margaret murmured, unsure what to do with this new information.
“Listen, I have to go get the horses fed and dinner on for Flynn. We’ll come over for breakfast tomorrow before you head out, okay?” Keelin said, jumping up to bend and give her mother a hug.
“Should you be feeding the horses? Don’t the stable hands do that?” Margaret asked in concern.
“I like to help. There is one who's close to foaling; she likes it when I come around. I’m able to soothe her,” Keelin explained.
“That’s sweet. Can I come by tomorrow and see her before I go?”
“Sure, we’ll do breakfast at our place,” Keelin beamed at her before whistling to Eagan, Flynn’s Irish setter, and setting off across the hills. Margaret marveled at her ease in this world, surprised to find that her daughter fit into the fabric of this community far more naturally than she ever had.
“Grace O’Malley’s ghost,” Margaret said out loud with a huff. It kind of annoyed her that she had never been singled out for a visitation from the mighty Grace O’Malley, yet everyone else and their mother seemed to be on chatting basis with the ghost.
“That’s it,” Margaret said on an oath, standing up and striding across the fields towards the cove.
It was time to tackle her destiny head on.
Chapter 48
Fuming, Margaret made her way down the cliff path, collecting rocks and flowers on the way down, Ronan racing ahead of her towards the beach. She’d never been much of a dog person before, but between Baron and Ronan, Margaret was now sold on the animals. They provided great companionship, and Margaret was happy to have Ronan's company as she descended into the cove.
It felt weird being back here on her own. Rarely had she come here without Fiona because the cove had creeped her out, even as a child. Reaching the bottom now, she stood for a moment, surveying her surroundings.
The sand beach stretched before her, the sand dark with the remnants of yesterday’s rain. The rocky cliffs jutted into the sky around her, the sun beginning its descent into the sea, the rays piercing through the opening where the two cliffs almost met. Today the water was anything but peaceful, raging in waves that battled each other before crashing onto the beach, mirroring the painting that Sean had given her.
“How appropriate,” Margaret said drolly, before stepping onto the sand and drawing a circle around her with the toe of her shoe.
“Ronan, come here,” Margaret ordered, unsure if she needed to protect the dog or not, but knowing that Fiona would be devastated if anything happened to him. Ronan ran over to her side and sat inside the circle, seeming to know the drill.
“Um, we come in peace,” Margaret began and then laughed at herself. It wasn’t like she was on an alien planet. “I mean, we come here for the purest of purposes and mean no harm. Please accept these gifts,” Margaret said, pulling her hand back and launching the rocks and flowers into the water. Margaret watched as the sea seemed to reach up and accept her gift, swallowing the rocks and dragging the flowers under. Deeming her work done, Margaret stepped gingerly from the circle.
And immediately jumped when a huge wave slammed the shore, water rolling close to the tips of her shoes. Ronan whimpered and jumped back.
“Oh, knock it off. I know you’re mad at me. But guess what? I’m mad at you too!” Margaret shouted, then felt ridiculous as she realized she was screaming at a big pool of water.
The waves subsided gently and Margaret sniffed.
“Thank you,” she said, beginning to walk gingerly down the beach. She knew where she was headed.
Directly to the small alcove sheltered by rocks where she and Sean had forever changed their lives.
Reaching the rocks, she sat on one and watched the play of the light on the waves and the rocks, feeling the undeniable press of power against her skin. There was no way she could ever hide from what she was or whence she came. Anger rose unbidden into her throat.
“Grace O’Malley! Show yourself this instant. I will not put up with you trying to mastermind my fate!” Margaret screeched, standing and putting her hands on her hips.
“Grace O’Malley! I know you’re here. Stop hiding. You’re a better woman than that, aren’t you? Oh powerful and mighty pirate queen?” Margaret shrieked again, her voice echoing off the cliffs. The waves built in intensity as her words crashed through the cove and Margaret turned her gaze on the water.
“I said Knock. It. Off!” The waves died instantly and a cool, placid blue water greeted her.
“Thank you,” Margaret acknowledged, her nose in the air.
“You’ve always been a stubborn one.”
A voice like honey on razor blades sliced through her and Margaret straightened, a chill racing down her spine. Turning, she greeted Grace.
“Great, great, great, great grandmother? So nice to finally be acquainted with you,” Margaret said stiffly, though her body hummed with adrenalin from being this close to Grace.
Grace stood by the rock wall, the sun’s rays slicing through her figure and illuminating her, making her seem to glow in vivid colors. A ruby red dress with miles of lace and pleating covered the ghost. Gold winked at her throat and her wrists, and Grace held her head proudly.
Pirate Queen indeed, Margaret thought, worry beginning to ratchet through her as she realized just how powerful Grace O’Malley was.
Grace’s mouth quirked in a small smile at Margaret’s words.
“Well, what is it, child? You seem quite angry.”
“Why did you show yourself to other people and not me? Don’t you have great words of wisdom to impart to me?” Margaret realized her tone sounded petulant, and she wanted to kick herself.
“It wasn’t time to show myself to you,” Grace shrugged delicately.
“It wasn’t time? You don’t think you could have been of help – oh, I don’t know – twenty-eight years ago or so? You ruined my life with your little light show,” Margaret spat out.
“The cove is charmed. It wasn’t me who ruined your life. And even if it had been, you can’t blame your choices on anyone else. You have free will, after all,” Grace said.
“That’s not fair. You knew what would happen with the light. You knew Sean would leave me.” Margaret felt herself digging her nails into her arms as tried to push down on the anger that clawed its way up.
“So? We all have lessons to learn in this life. It wasn’t my job to make things easy for you,” Grace said, her chin high, regal as ever.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t make things easy for me? Your own offspring? That’s ridiculous,” Margaret scoffed.
“My own offspring who refuses to accept the gift that I have bestowed upon her. One who judged her very own mother – one of the greatest natural healers this world has known. Your mother saved thousands of lives over the years, after making the ultimate sacrifice – choosing to stay with you and heal others over her own love life. And you expect me to help you, selfish child? No,” Grace said, shaking her head, “I don’t think so. Sometimes the hardest lessons must be learned without interference. That is a mother’s love.”
Margaret felt shame wash over her and her heat began to pick up speed.
“What do you mean, my mother made the greatest sacrifice?”
“She chose you, child. Over saving your father. Over the love of her life. Someday you’ll know the story,” Grace said gently.
“But…I thought he died of a heart attack.”
Grace just shook her head at Margaret, refusing to speak.
“Okay, fine, I’ll ask my mother someday. But you can’t blame me for how I felt when I was younger. Or how I acted. I was just a kid. I’m not that person anymore,” Margaret protested.
“I don’t blame you for who you were. You had to learn the tough lessons to get to where you are now,” Grace said.
“But you still don’t want to help me,
because I won’t accept my gift,” Margaret said.
Grace just shrugged again and looked out over the water. Margaret recognized the tactic; it was one she often used in negotiations. Silence is a powerful tool.
“Look, I admit I'm not comfortable with my gift. But can’t you support me in knowing my own mind? Maybe I am not the person you think that I am. Maybe I am happier when I can shield myself from everyone’s emotions and live my life normally. Isn’t that the real definition of accepting myself? Knowing what works best for me?” Margaret asked, beseeching Grace to understand her point of view.
Grace considered Margaret’s words for a bit, before nodding once.
“Your power will leave you when you’ve learned the final lesson you were put on this earth to learn,” she said finally.
“Wait, what? Really? You’ll take it away?” Margaret asked in astonishment and then realized that she was talking to the cliff wall of stones. Whirling, she looked out over the now calm water. “Grace? Hello?”
Silence greeted her.
“Well, what the heck does that even mean?” Margaret seethed, finding herself just as unsettled as she had been when she first came down into the cove. Grumbling, she whistled to Ronan and began the hike out of the cove, wondering just what else it was she was supposed to learn.
Chapter 49
She was still pondering that same question the next day as she sat on the train, her luggage in storage above her head. Margaret hadn’t considered the fact that she would probably need to buy a car, so she’d booked a last minute train ticket to Dublin and had waved everyone goodbye from the station.
Margaret hadn’t told anyone about her meeting with Grace. It still felt too raw – too undecided – to her. But now she was kicking herself – because what if that was her last lesson? Maybe she was supposed to be more open about sharing her troubles with her family.
Sighing, Margaret sat back and watched the countryside flash by her window. It was another rainy day, the broody grey sky matching her mood perfectly. Margaret pulled out her folder and began to review some of the apartments she had looked at online this week. She wasn’t quite ready to make a decision, so she’d booked a lovely-looking boutique hotel right by Christchurch Cathedral in downtown Dublin. She planned to stay there a week and take her time touring the city before she decided which area she would prefer to live in.
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