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

by Tricia O'Malley

  Margaret laughed at the last part, though tears were streaming down her face. There were so many things she wanted to bring up – all of the past hurts that could rear their heads at any time – all of the ugly history that lay between them. How did she know it would be okay? How could she let herself be vulnerable to this man who had hurt her so badly in the past?

  And suddenly it became crystal clear to her.

  This was the lesson she was supposed to learn. A lesson of forgiveness – of following her heart – of taking a leap of faith. It was time for Margaret to break down her walls and let herself be vulnerable in love. Even if it meant that Sean would have the power to hurt her again.

  “I…” Margaret began, and then shook her head, “Yes, actually, yes. I’d be honored to be your wife. I know we have a history and I know the past will come up in arguments again. But I don’t want to be defined by my past anymore. Or yours. I want to look forward to our future. I love you so much, Sean,” Margaret said, openly crying now. She found herself being scooped up from her chair, the box falling from her hands as Sean devoured her lips in a kiss.

  Margaret felt the wave of love wash over from him, so powerful and pure that she knew she would never have to doubt his feelings for her again.

  And in that second, the feeling winked out.

  Margaret stilled for a moment, pulling back to look past Sean's shoulder at the ceiling. Testing, she put down her shields and reached out, trying to scan Sean’s mind to see if she could read his emotion.

  “What’s wrong?” Sean gasped.

  Her special ability was gone. Margaret could have crowed with glee. Instead, she smiled happily up at Sean.

  “Nothing at all. Everything is exactly as it should be.”

  “Then it’s time for me to give you your real dessert,” Sean growled into her neck, beginning to carry her towards the bedroom.

  “Wait! My ring,” Margaret protested.

  Sean slid her down his body, kissing her the whole time, and Margaret felt a little dizzy on her feet as he left her to walk over to where the box lay on the floor. Bending, he picked it up and came to stand before her, dropping to his knee again.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Margaret said.

  “I do. Margaret, will you marry me?” Sean repeated.

  “I will,” Margaret gushed, holding out her hand and laughing out loud as he slipped the ring on her finger, the weight of it cool and lovely against her skin.

  “Now, about that dessert,” Margaret said and laughed when Sean swooped her off her feet once again.

  Throwing her head back in laughter, she gasped as she caught a glimpse of Grace O’Malley in the corner, petting a bemused looking Baron.

  With a small lift of her hand, Grace nodded to Margaret with a smile before fading from sight.

  Epilogue

  Five and a half months later

  Margaret smoothed the white silk of her dress, her hands nervously repeating the motion.

  “Stop it. You look beautiful,” Keelin said from where she stood, one hand pressed to her back, her pregnant belly sticking far out from what used to be her waist. A maroon dress complimented her hair and brought out the warm tones in her eyes.

  “You look stunning,” Margaret said, smiling at her daughter as Keelin reached up to clip a circlet of flowers in her hair. “Just perfect.”

  “And as big as a house,” Keelin grumbled.

  Today was Margaret’s wedding day, and she couldn’t help but nervously fidget inside the small white canopy the men had set up on the beach at Grace’s Cove. White panels unrolled from the sides, concealing the women from the small group of guests that waited on the beach.

  It had seemed like the perfect place to have her wedding, Margaret thought, though nerves skittered up her spine now as she thought about all the potential things that could go wrong if the cove decided to get moody.

  “Stop worrying,” Fiona ordered as she ducked into the tent, a flowing greyish caftan with maroon trim making her look every inch the powerful healer she was. Flowers were also entwined in her grey hair and Margaret smiled at her, reaching her hands out to both her mother and her daughter, completing the circle.

  “I’m trying not to,” Margaret admitted.

  “You look so beautiful,” Fiona said with a smile, her eyes softening at the corners as she looked at her daughter in her wedding dress.

  “You think? It’s not too young?”

  Margaret had been drawn to this dress even though it was a departure from her usual buttoned up style. White silk flowed in a single column down her body, with the smallest hint of lace to create straps at her shoulders. A circlet of white flowers was entwined in her hair and a sheer veil trailed behind her. She wore no jewelry, save the pearls at her ears and her engagement ring, sparkling where it rested on her finger.

  “It’s perfect. Elegant and simple. You look amazing,” Keelin gushed, pulling away to walk slowly in a circle around her mother.

  “Keelin. How are you feeling?” Fiona asked and Margaret whipped her head around to study her daughter.

  “Is something wrong? Are you having contractions?” Margaret asked.

  “No. Just an achey lower back today. I’m carrying a lot of weight, you know,” Keelin said with a smile and Margaret met her eyes.

  “You promise to tell me if anything happens? I don’t care if we have to stop the ceremony.”

  Keelin waved her hand distractedly at her mother.

  “Stop it. This is your day. Now, I hear the music starting. I’d better get ready,” Keelin said, moving to the front flap of the tent. As the processional music struck up, Keelin hoisted her bouquet of white roses in front of her stomach and pasted a smile on her face, stepping into the sunlight.

  Margaret turned to meet Fiona’s eyes.

  “Is she lying?”

  “I can’t be certain. But I plan to stay very close to her today,” Fiona nodded towards the corner, where two boxes of supplies sat. “And I’m prepared. Just in case.”

  The thought of Keelin going into labor down on the beach certainly knocked the nervous wedding jitters from Margaret’s stomach. There were clearly bigger things to worry about. She stepped to the front of the tent and held out her arm for Fiona, who was walking her down the aisle.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Fiona said, smiling up at her daughter.

  “I love you, Mom. I’m so glad I’m home,” Margaret said, feeling a little weepy.

  “Let’s get you married then,” Fiona said, and they pushed through the tent flaps.

  For a moment, Margaret was blinded by the warm sunshine of a perfect fall day in Ireland. She’d known it was a gamble, planning an outside wedding in fall in Ireland, but she decided to risk it anyway. And had been rewarded with puffy white clouds, warm sunshine, and just a hint of a breeze.

  A makeshift aisle had been concocted with chairs and wooden walking sticks wrapped in ribbons and flowers. At the head of the aisle, an altar had been created of wood branches and ribbons, and draped in a canopy of flowers. Margaret’s mouth went dry as she saw Sean standing at the front, looking resplendent in the same tuxedo he had worn to propose to her, a white rose at his lapel. His face broke out in a wide smile as he met her eyes and Margaret felt a rush of love wash through her at the sight of him.

  These past five months had felt like a whirlwind to Margaret. It was like she had finally come alive again. Everything she did with Sean was based in passion. From their disagreements to their lovemaking, they argued, laughed, and talked endlessly. It was almost as though they were making up for lost time. Rarely did they spend time apart, and instead of being annoyed by his constant companionship, Margaret reveled in finally having a partner by her side.

  Together, they had pulled Sean's business out of distress; it was now running so smoothly they were both taking off on a tour of the Mediterranean in December. For an entire month! Margaret could hardly wait.

  But for now, she needed to focus on getting down the aisle w
ithout tripping.

  Margaret smiled at her very intimate group of guests, all whom grinned cheerfully back at her as she and Fiona made their way through the sand. Cait and Shane held little Fiona on their laps, a flower headband and cute dress making her look like a doll, and not the mischievous baby Margaret knew her to be. Morgan and Patrick looked young and awestruck by the concept of marriage, though Margaret could see them holding hands tightly as she passed. Aislinn and Baird leaned into each other, both smiling serenely at Margaret. Colin, Aislinn’s twin brother, sat with his wife and their young son, Finnegan. Margaret had begun to establish a good relationship with them and was happy to see Colin nod at her before giving her a wide smile.

  Margaret looked to her favorite people. Keelin wiped tears as she stood next to the altar, fulfilling Margaret’s maid of honor duty. Flynn stood centered behind the altar, having happily agreed to the great honor of being the one to marry Margaret and Sean.

  Margaret took a deep breath as they stopped in front of the altar, then turned to hug her mother and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Thank you,” Margaret whispered.

  Fiona nodded and stepped to the chair waiting for her in the front row. Turning, Margaret stepped forward and reached out to put her hands in Sean’s waiting ones. They both smiled giddily at each other, and jumped when Flynn cleared his throat.

  “It is with great honor that I am brought here today to wed these two lovebirds in holy matrimony…”

  Margaret giggled and found herself getting lost in the beauty of the moment. Flynn’s words flowed around her and she found herself gazing out towards the water that gently lapped at the shoreline.

  For a sliver of a moment, Grace O’Malley flashed into view.

  Keelin gasped and Margaret turned to look at her.

  “Nothing, keep going,” Keelin said with a smile; Keelin must have also seen Grace, Margaret thought. It was comforting to know Grace was overseeing the ceremony with her own blessing, and Margaret turned back to Sean with a smile.

  “Sean, do you take this woman…”

  Margaret stumbled through the vows, so deliriously happy and in love that all she could do was smile at Sean and wait for the words.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  As the guests erupted in cheers, Sean brushed his lips across Margaret’s in the most tender of kisses, and felt her heart cracking wide open with love. She shrieked happily when he scooped her up and dipped her, his lips following her in a kiss as he upended her towards the sand. As he pulled her back up, Margaret gasped as the cove shot out a beam of light, so stunning in its beauty that it all but blinded everyone on the shore.

  Margaret felt her heart stop for a second; then she nodded at the water and whispered, “Thank you, Grace.”

  “I didn’t run this time,” Sean said at her ear, and Margaret broke into laughter.

  Margaret thrust her bouquet high in the air as she walked back down the aisle, the guests clapping and laughing as Patrick flipped the switch on the CD player to begin their happy end-of-wedding song.

  At the end of the aisle, Margaret and Sean stood for a moment and looked into each other eyes, lost in the moment, as they waited for Fiona and Keelin to proceed down the aisle.

  Margaret turned, smiling at Fiona, and then looked past her to where Keelin stood, a horrified expression on her face, the damp sand at her feet a silent explanation for her expression.

  “Mother! Get your supplies!”

  Fiona reacted instantly, swiveling her head to see Keelin stood frozen in the sand. Flynn had already moved towards her, asking her what was wrong.

  “Flynn, bring Keelin to the tent. Tell them to hold dinner – we’ve got a baby on the way.”

  The guests reacted immediately, the women jumping up and racing towards the tent. Margaret looked up at Sean.

  “I have to go in there with her.”

  “I know. Keep us updated. Dinner will wait.” Their dinner was being cooked and served at Flynn and Keelin’s house, in his expansive dining hall.

  Margaret moved to Flynn’s side as he carried Keelin down the aisle. She reached out to squeeze her daughter’s hand as they walked across the sand.

  “This shouldn’t be happening like this. We should be at the hospital,” Keelin gasped out, her breath coming in short gasps as pain flashed across her face.

  “Nonsense. Fiona brought supplies. She obviously suspected this would happen,” Margaret reassured Keelin, holding back the tent flap as Flynn passed through.

  Inside, Margaret was amazed to see what the women had set up in such a short amount of time. A large blanket was spread out on the sand floor, with pillows for support. Two low tables were spread with various types of medical equipment, a basin, and towels. Rows of Fiona’s bottles of elixirs and herbs were lined up, ready for use.

  “Just put her down in the sand,” Fiona said gently, her hands already encased in rubber gloves.

  “Don’t you think we should get her up to the doctor?” Flynn asked, worry crossing his features.

  “If I’m correct, you won’t have time,” Fiona said serenely. “Now, Flynn, get behind Keelin and put your legs alongside of her so she can lean back into you for support.”

  Margaret knelt on the blanket, holding Keelin’s hand as Fiona knelt between her legs, lifting her skirts and gently pulling Keelin’s underwear down. Nobody said a word as Fiona peeked under the skirt.

  When her head reappeared, her expression was grim.

  “This baby is already on its way out. Another thing about the cove, it facilitates fast births,” Fiona said easily and began instructing Cat and Aislinn to bring her herbs and salves. Laying out towels, Fiona looked up and met Keelin’s eyes.

  “You push when I say push. Grace is here with us today. You are completely protected. Do you understand me?”

  Keelin nodded, determination shining through on her already sweat-soaked face.

  “Remember that Fiona is one of the best healers this world has known. You couldn’t be in better hands,” Margaret whispered to Keelin.

  “Push,” Fiona ordered, and so Keelin pushed.

  Margaret winced and held her daughter’s hand as they counted through contractions, yelled together through pushing. After what seemed like an exceptionally long time – but was probably only twenty minutes or so – Fiona met Keelin's eyes once more.

  “Last one. Push!”

  Keelin closed her eyes and pushed, gasping as her body delivered new life into the world. A flash of light startled them all, and Keelin screamed with her effort. In seconds, a baby’s cry split through the tense silence in the tent, and everyone cheered.

  “Towels and water,” Fiona ordered, expertly cleaning out the baby’s nasal passages and mouth before tying off and clamping the umbilical cord. “Finish cleaning her off while I finish the birth,” Fiona ordered, handing the baby to Cait, who did as she was told. Margaret held Keelin’s hand as she sobbed with emotion, finishing the birth with determination.

  “My baby. Let me see her,” Keelin gasped, holding her hands up. Cait put the swaddled infant in Keelin’s arms and Flynn peered over her shoulder.

  “She’s beautiful,” Keelin sobbed.

  Margaret leaned in so she could get a better look, and her heart all but stopped. Turning, she met Fiona’s meaningful look. The older woman shook her head and Margaret bit back what she was about to say.

  But Margaret knew those eyes. The eyes staring out at her from the tiny bundle of blankets were those of none other than the great pirate queen – Grace O’Malley.

  “I’d like to introduce everyone to Grace Margaret,” Keelin said happily, and Margaret’s heart swelled with the honor.

  “She’s stunning. You did such a great job. All of you,” Margaret said, looking around.

  “So is there a baby or what?” a voice called from outside, and Cait jumped up.

  “Whoops!” Moving to the tent flaps, she pulled them open so everyone could crowd around.


  “Awww, she’s beautiful,” everyone crowed in delight.

  And she really was, Margaret thought. Though she had a sinking suspicion she knew what that flash of light meant.

  And that little Grace Margaret was about to put her parents through the wringer.

  “They can handle it,” Fiona whispered at her side.

  “That’s Grace in there. You know that, right?” Margaret hissed back.

  “I know. Keelin doesn’t need to know. Not yet, at least. Grace had her reasons for coming back. She’ll do wonders in this world. That baby is destined for greatness,” Fiona predicted.

  “I suppose that's all I can ask for,” Margaret murmured.

  Sean pulled her away from the tent, leading her towards the water.

  “Look at all of this,” he said, turning to gesture towards where their wedding altar stood, and back towards the guests crowding around Keelin and Flynn, congratulating them on their new arrival.

  “I think we had to go through all of this to get back here,” Sean said, pulling her to him so that she leaned into him, his body rock solid against hers.

  “I think you’re right. Everything in its own time. This was all meant to be.”

  In one final flourish of light, the cove lit up as the baby cried, and Margaret and Sean sank into a kiss, forever cementing their love and the circle of life on the shores of the mighty mystic cove.

  Wild Irish Witch

  Book 6 in the Mystic Cove Series

  Copyright © 2015 by Lovewrite Publishing

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design:

  Alchemy Book Covers

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  If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting the author at: info@triciaomalley.com