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

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Thank you,” Aiden said, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

  “How long have you been feeling this way?” Fiona asked, and Aiden shrugged her hand from his shoulder.

  “Off and on for a bit. Touch of pneumonia maybe. Nothing I can’t shake off,” Aiden said, grumpiness crossing his features.

  “Aiden…I…” Fiona began but Aiden raised his hand to stop her.

  “What’s this I hear about leftovers?” Aiden said, raising an eyebrow at her. His handsome face was animated but also brooked no further questioning. Fiona smiled at him as she considered how she would want to approach the subject of healing him.

  “I’ll be heating it up then and just bringing it back to you in a short while,” Fiona said brightly.

  “I can take it in the front room – start a fire,” Aiden said, but his words came out weakly.

  “This here’s just fine. I see you’ve got a little fireplace over in the corner here as well. I’ll just get some tinder started so we can have a nice warmth to chase away that damp,” Fiona said, moving across the room to the small fireplace tucked in the corner, windows buffeting either side. She made quick work of the fire as she tried to tamp down her emotions.

  “There we are now, much better,” Fiona said as a cheerful flame took light.

  “Thank you,” Aiden said gravely.

  “Now, I’ve got roast turkey, stuffing, rolls, corn, and something else, oh yes! Cranberry sauce too,” Fiona said, “I’ll just heat everything up and bring a plate back?”

  “Are you sure? I could come out front to eat,” Aiden said, but there wasn’t much strength in his words.

  “No, no. Stay. Rest when you need rest, you old coot,” Fiona laughed at him as she left the room, but the smile immediately left her face once she was in the hallway. She could cure him, she knew that much. The question was whether he wanted to be cured or not. The last thing Fiona would ever do is force a healing on someone who didn’t wish to be healed.

  This was a first for her though. Almost everyone she had encountered in all the years of her being a healer wanted to be fixed – saved. Yet she didn’t get that sense from Aiden. Fiona bit her lip as she piled food onto two sensible white earthenware plates and slid them in to warm.

  She leaned back on the counter and stared out into the stormy sky as she considered what another loss would mean to her.

  Chapter 40

  Later she sat by Aiden’s bed, having cleared away their meal, and met his eyes.

  “You and me – we’ve been pretty good for each other, haven’t we?” Fiona began and Aiden smiled at her.

  “You’re a good friend to me, Fiona. The only one who would let me talk about my pretty Serena. You’re pretty too, of course. But she’s prettier.”

  “I’ve no doubt about that, Aiden. She was a lovely woman. And sure she was lucky to have a handsome man like you. Almost as handsome as my sweet John was,” Fiona teased, eliciting a laugh from him that turned into a hollow cough. Fiona immediately reached out her hand and eased his cough with her power.

  Aiden slanted a look at her.

  “I don’t suppose you know how not to help people, do you?” Aiden asked softly.

  “It’s part of who I am. I’ll respect your wishes. The…the trouble I’m having right now is whether to be telling you just what it is you have,” Fiona swallowed deeply.

  Aiden moved his hand down until it slid over hers on the sheet.

  “Aye, I know what I have. I’ve asked for it,” Aiden said, squeezing her hand tightly and Fiona jerked away at his words.

  “You’ve asked for it? To die? Why don’t you just go out front and jump off the cliff then?” Fiona asked angrily and Aiden chuckled, this time reaching out to pat her – sending his own brand of soothing energy to her.

  “Because everything in its own time, Fiona. You know that as well as anyone else. I just sensed that my time was closing in…and, well, I asked to be back with Serena. On the winter solstice, it will be exactly fifteen years since she left me. I think that would be a nice time to join her,” Aiden said softly and Fiona closed her eyes.

  “You did manifest this then,” Fiona whispered.

  “I suppose. In my own way. Though I’m not sure I would have chosen lung cancer as the way out,” Aiden said, another cough ratcheting through his body. Fiona was surprised she had missed it over all the times she had visited him. But now that she looked closer, she could see he had lost weight and his skin was much more pale.

  “I can’t believe I missed reading this,” Fiona admitted, feeling guilt wash over her. This was her friend and she should have taken care of him before it got too late. Even if that wasn’t what he wanted.

  “I hid it from you. When I knew you were coming over – I dressed and acted super healthy. But when you left, I would sleep for hours. I also purposely didn’t think of it when you were with me – instead choosing to talk of happier times.”

  “You diverted me,” Fiona murmured, clenching her hand around his knobby knuckles.

  “I did at that, lass; it wasn’t for you to worry about,” Aiden said.

  “You’re my friend. It’s my job to worry. And, good lord, Aiden, I have to tell you – I can heal you. At least I’m fairly certain I could. Or prolong your life and give you a healthy few more years. You must know that – that I want that for you,” Fiona’s voice cracked.

  “Ah, my sweet Fiona, the best of friends to me. I do know that. I’ve known since the specialist told me six months ago that you would be able to help me. Please understand that this isn’t about you though. This is my choice – I’m going to be with my pretty Serena.”

  Fiona’s head felt leaden as she looked at the plaid comforter, her gaze tracing the stitching where the threads wove together. She reminded herself that each person’s journey on this earth was their own tapestry, intermingling with other threads, some leading to completion and some fraying and falling short.

  “Is this what you truly want? From the bottom of your soul and in the depths of your heart? Because saying it and going through it are two different things,” Fiona asked, meeting his eyes once again.

  “Yes. I’ve had many a lonely night to consider this. This is what I want. I know Serena would want it too. She misses me as much as I miss her,” Aiden said softly, his eyes growing soft around the edges as he said it.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Does she visit you? Do you see her?” Fiona whispered.

  “Only in my dreams,” Aiden said.

  “Och, yes, that’s what I meant. Does she dreamwalk with you?”

  “You weren’t asking if she sits down and has dinner with me every night? Her ghost sipping whiskey with me by the fire?” Aiden chuckled – a chuckle which devolved into another coughing fit.

  “Aye, I suppose that I did mean that. But John dreamwalks with me as well. Some days it’s the best part,” Fiona sighed.

  “Mine too,” Aiden said, smiling gently at her.

  “What can I do for you?” Fiona whispered.

  “Come, sit with me, help me pass the time. I’ve most of my affairs in order, but maybe you could help donate a few things of mine. Also, I’ve told nobody in the village, but I wouldn’t mind having one last feast – a spot of music to listen to with friends – before I go,” Aiden said, raising his eyebrows in question at her.

  “I’ll stay here, in the second bedroom with Ronan to keep you company as well,” Fiona decided. “And you’ll have the best going away party ever.”

  Aiden laughed, his eyes lighting in delight.

  “I like that. A going away party. Yes, let’s have it.”

  Fiona tilted her head at him.

  “You’re certain it will be the winter solstice?”

  “Near’s I can tell. At least that’s what Serena keeps telling me.”

  “Do you be believing her then? What she tells you in your dreams? I’ve always wondered what’s my subconscious and what’s really John.” Fiona raised an eyebrow at
Aiden as she leaned over to pull the cover up a little further.

  “Aye, I do at that. I suppose if you held my feet to a fire and demanded why, I would only be able to say ’tis a feeling. A strong one. My lass wouldn’t be lying to me,” Aiden said.

  “No, I suppose John wouldn’t lie to me either.” Fiona’s thoughts darted back to her dream the night before and John imploring her to make a wish. It seemed she would need to have a talk with him in her sleep this evening – maybe she could pull some more information out of him.

  “I’m going to head home, Aiden. I’ll bring over some sheets and towels, as well as pack up some clothes for myself. The solstice isn’t all that far off, you know. I’ll help you in your last days – and – I don’t want to hear any argument about this,” Fiona raised a warning finger at him, “I will ease some of your pain. I promise not to heal you. But I can make your last days more comfortable. Can we call that a compromise?”

  Aiden closed his eyes for a moment and then took a deep breath, turning to smile at her from the pillow.

  “Yes, I’ll agree to that. I am in pain, though I don’t like to admit it and I’ve refused treatments from the doctors.”

  “You let me take care of that. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, you know,” Fiona winked at him as she stood up. “Now, you get some sleep. I’ll be back in a short bit and you’ll have Ronan to jump up here and keep you company. You’ll like that – he’s always taken to you.”

  “Fine dog,” Aiden agreed, but his eyes were already slipping closed.

  How had she missed how sick he was? Fiona marveled at the fact that one of her good friends was near death and she’d never once glimpsed it.

  Maybe Aiden was right – she hadn’t been meant to. Even if she didn’t agree with his path, it wasn’t her place to change it.

  Chapter 41

  The days leading up to the winter solstice flew by and yet seemed to slow down – each moment frozen – as she helped Aiden to celebrate the last of his time on this earth.

  True to her word, she’d moved in that afternoon and there had been a steady stream of villagers arriving to visit since. Fiona quickly learned how tiring this was for Aiden so she began limiting visits to just one hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon.

  It was nice to have someone to cook for again, though he wasn’t eating much. Fiona gave away most of his belongings as he’d asked and had deeded his cottage to the local tourism office. She heard tell they were discussing making it a tourist center with information on all the stone circles found in the surrounding hills. She supposed the building could have a far worse use.

  Ronan was his comforting self as usual – hopping up to keep Aiden warm and provide comfort in his pain. Fiona had borrowed her old leather book back from Keelin and they’d conferred over which rituals to use that would ease pain but not heal. It wasn’t as easy as she had thought it was going to be, as the very act of easing pain often went hand-in-hand with healing the root cause of the pain.

  Keelin was here now, helping with the party preparations for the afternoon. Fiona had wondered if she should host the party on the winter solstice, but Aiden had asked for privacy on that night.

  One must always respect a dying man’s wishes.

  And so Keelin came, and Cait would be arriving shortly with drinks from the pub. The rest of her girls would be following suit. They’d agreed upon a rotating party of sorts – so that the house was always full of music and voices but never getting so packed that it would overwhelm Aiden. It was more of an open house really.

  “He told me to leave baby Grace with him. Isn’t that the darnedest thing? I hope she doesn’t run him ragged,” Keelin said, coming from the bedroom where she had stopped to say hello to Aiden, Baby Grace on her hip all decked out in a pretty green velvet party dress.

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Fiona muttered, stirring the pot of beef stew she had set to simmering.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Keelin asked.

  Fiona wondered when she should tell Keelin that Baby Grace was actually the soul of Grace O’Malley – the infamous one who had birthed their bloodline. She figured they had a little more time yet before she needed to reveal that information. Keelin needed to settle into motherhood and learn herself and her baby first before Fiona dropped a huge proclamation on her head. All in good time, she reminded herself.

  “He loves babies, that’s all. And Gracie’s quite the charmer,” Fiona pointed out. She secretly wondered what sort of magickal conversations the two were having back there.

  “She is, isn’t she?” Keelin said, her heart in her eyes as she spoke of her baby girl.

  “Aye, I suspect she’s going to be unforgettable,” Fiona laughed and focused again on her cooking, “Now, get plates set out on that table. I’m thinking we should stack everything in one long row and people can serve themselves as they come and go.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Keelin said, moving across the room to place the plates on the table. “Fiona, are you all right? I’m worried that Aiden’s death is going to be another great loss for you.”

  Fiona tapped the spoon against the side of the pot and then placed it in the rest beside the soup pot. Turning, she wiped her hands on the towel and studied Keelin.

  “Aiden’s but a good friend to me,” Fiona said gently.

  “I know. I guess I had kind of hoped for more – at least for a while when you were stopping over here so much,” Keelin shrugged and folded napkins in neat little squares.

  “We are good company for each other, but much of our time is spent in the past – remembering our loved ones.”

  “So you’re okay with him passing on?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m happy about it as I’ll certainly miss him. But Aiden wants to be with Serena. And I can’t begrudge a friend his happiness now, can I?” Fiona asked. The front door swung open and they both turned as Cait, nimble as ever, breezed in with her arms full of wine bottles.

  “I’ve more in the truck,” Cait said, her slim body strong.

  “You didn’t leave that baby in the truck on its own, did you?”

  “Of course not. I left the baby to pull pints at the pub.” Cait rolled her eyes and set the bottles on the table before breezing back outside into the windy grey day – a pintsized bundle of energy.

  “She’s a mouth on her, that one,” Fiona observed and Keelin chuckled.

  “And motherhood has certainly not dimmed it,” Keelin said and then tilted her head at the back room. “I think I’ve heard a cry from Grace. I’ll just go check.”

  The wine glass Fiona was wiping a smudge from almost fell out of her hand when Aiden walked out from the back room – fully dressed and color blossoming in his cheeks – following Keelin, who cradled Baby Grace. Fiona gaped, looking between Baby Grace – who had a decidedly mischievous expression on her face – and Aiden. His hair was combed back neatly, and he wore a nice red plaid shirt tucked into pleated corduroy pants. The greyness had vanished from his skin tone and his eyes seemed to twinkle even more.

  “Aiden, I can’t believe you are up,” Fiona said, putting the wine glass down and crossing to stand by him. She tried not to hover, but a part of her wanted to pat him down and do a mental scan. Had Baby Grace done something when they were alone in his room?

  “I’m not about to miss my going-away party,” Aiden said pointedly, brushing a kiss across Fiona’s cheek before moving to the front room where he bent stiffly and stoked the fire. “Tomorrow we’ll have to get Yule log burning for the solstice.”

  Fiona narrowed her eyes at his back. He still wanted this to be his going away party and yet he wanted to burn Yule log that was typically burned for twelve days? She opened her mouth to speak but the door blew open again – and this time half the villagers followed Cait, their arms full of food and instruments.

  “Hallo all! I made it out of bed just for some good craic,” Aiden boomed, settling into the armchair by the fire, and in moments, he was surrounded
by friends. Fiona just shook her head and moved to pour him a glass of Middleton Very Rare, his favorite Irish whiskey. She stopped at the tall highchair where Keelin had placed Baby Grace with a few pieces of mashed up banana in front of her. Crouching, Fiona met her eyes.

  “I’m on to you,” Fiona whispered.

  Baby Grace chortled and threw a piece of banana from her chair.

  “Nice try at distraction, but I’m sure as the sun does shine that you pulled a little trick back in that bedroom.”

  Baby Grace slapped her palm on the tray, mashing a banana between her fingers gleefully.

  Fiona reached out and ran her hand over the soft curls on Grace’s head.

  “And I’ll be thanking you for it too. This is a fine gift,” Fiona whispered, kissing her head. Baby Grace stilled as she pulled away and sure enough, the baby winked at her. Fiona found herself chuckling as she moved into the kitchen to stir the soup again.

  “Soup’s almost done and we’ve plenty more food to go around,” Fiona called to the room as the first lilting note of a tin whistle floated across the room. In moments, a fiddle joined it.

  Late into the night, the small cottage rang with laughter and music – the notes carrying high on the stormy wind that battered the cottage – light spilling from every window. From afar, it looked like the cottage was aflame, a beacon of life and love in the dark December night.

  Chapter 42

  “Make a wish, pretty Fiona. Make a wish,” John whispered to her in her dreams that night. He’d been repeating the same thing in her dreams every night for weeks now. Maybe it was the whiskey she’d drunk at the party that night, but Fiona broke her rule about being angry in her dreams and swung on him.