Legends Lake

by JoAnn Ross

  He watched Kate cast her circle, then strew her petals like a flower girl at a faerie wedding. She was singing a chant, her voice as clear and pure as a silver flute, rising on the breeze, drifting along with the distant roar of the sea and the sigh of the breeze in the treetops.

  She was wearing a coronet of fresh flowers and had entwined narrow red and white ribbons through her wealth of black hair. The perfume of the blossoms wafted on the night air as she shrugged out of the robe, letting it skim over her curves like a silken waterfall. In the streaming moondust her body appeared to have been carved from alabaster, but Alec knew that it was much warmer. And worlds more yielding.

  She lit the fire, causing sparks to fly upward into the black sky. He watched her sway the glorious female body that now glowed silver and orange from moon and firelight. As she danced to music only she could hear, the night around her began to sing as well. Alec could have sworn that he heard the melodic strumming of a harp coming from the overhead tree branches.

  Her voice rang out over sea and wind and as he watched, she drew the moonlight down into her, swathing her in brilliance, making her glow from the inside out.

  Alec could have no more resisted the sensual lure than he could stop breathing. He entered the sacred circle she’d cast, his mind clouded, as if it had been draped in gossamer cobwebs, but at the same time more alive than it had ever been.

  Kate turned toward him, her warm and generous heart shining in her eyes and when he gathered her into his arms, the night sighed. Time took on a mystical, dreamlike feel as she slowly undressed him, blessing each bit of newly exposed flesh with butterfly kisses and tender touches. Freed of mortal trappings, they moved to the music of the night, bodies, minds, and souls in perfect unison and harmony.

  Magic. It crackled around them like the electricity in the air before a summer storm; flowed through them like the River Shannon answering the age-old call of the sea, melted their bodies together in divine union, like a brilliant sun melts hot wax, making it impossible to know where she left off and he began.

  “Read my mind,” she sang softly in his ear. “As I read yours. Two minds, with a single heart.”

  Opening his heart to Kate had been the most natural thing he’d ever done. Now he opened his mind as well, tenderly reading her innermost thoughts as she was his, discovering realms of sensuality beyond anything either of them had ever known as the flames of the sacred fire danced around them, in them.

  He was male to her female, the golden half of her silvery being. Their coming together, two parts of the perfect whole, was as it was meant to be, from the beginning of time immemorial. And it was wonderful.

  The trees sang and the stars spun, welcoming the lovers who, entwined, rode the magic to soar and wheel and tumble in the midnight sky, finally returning to earth, safe and replete in each other’s arms.

  “That was,” Alec said as they lay together afterward on the bed of her cape, “the most incredible experience of my life.”

  “Beltane is a special time.” She was lying with her head on his chest. “It’s a time of awakening.”

  “I’ve certainly been awakened to a lot of new things lately.” He tipped a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “And Beltane may be special. But you, sweetheart, were incredible.”

  “As were you.”

  “It’s the two of us. We’re obviously magic together.” He touched his smiling lips to hers. “I also now realize that being moonstruck isn’t just an expression.”

  He drew her closer, ran his hand down her bare back. “I knew you were the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met, Kate. I just didn’t realize how extraordinary.”

  He kissed her again, a slow sweet kiss that brought tears to her eyes.

  “I dreamed of you,” she murmured.

  “I’ve been dreaming about you every night since I landed in the country. But believe me, sugar, as hot as they’ve been, they don’t come close to reality.”

  “I dreamed of you before you came to Ireland. I felt the winds of change that brought you here before you rang me up about Legends Lake.”

  “That’s what you were talking about that first day. My destiny.”

  “Aye. As well as mine. It was obviously our destiny to be together.”

  Although she was not eager to leave the circle, it was growing cold. As he dressed, she picked up the petals that were now infused with magic. She’d scatter them around the house as protection for her family.

  A new day was dawning, the stars beginning to fade beneath the superior light of the rising sun as they walked back to the house, hand in hand.

  The festival grounds, located at the stone bridge on the outskirts of the village, were bustling with holiday revelers. Old men in tweed caps quaffed pints of Guinness and pointed out pretty young girls who, on this bright and sunny day, had cast off their coats and sweaters and changed into colorful spring finery. Young men flirted with those young girls, who flirted back in the spirit of the holiday. The air was filled with music and genial conversation.

  The Travelers had arrived in their caravans with their horses and began making deals with the slap of hands, a bit of Irish earth smeared onto the horses’ rumps to show that bargains had been struck, and a few pounds given back to the seller for luck. Children wearing flowers in their hair danced around towering maypoles, which, Kate told Alec, had actually begun their existence as phallic symbols of the pagan god whose emergence from youth to manhood was being celebrated.

  Bright orange, white, and green flags flapped in the sea breeze, the blue sky was filled with kites, many in the shape and emerald green hue of the Lady. Farmers who’d come to town for the day’s festivities competed in antique plow contests and in a nearby venue, money furiously exchanged hands as to which farmer’s draft horses could pull the most weight.

  Craftsmen proudly displayed their goods on wooden tables: Gold and silver gleamed while the rich leather scent of hand-fashioned tack mingled with the mouth-watering aroma of fried fish and chips and the sweet, pungent smell of manure.

  Jamie had gone off with Rory, Shea and Celia to ride the amusement rides; Zoe was with Nora’s younger sister, Mary, at the crowning of the May Queen. A former queen herself, Mary was part of the royal court.

  “Look, Mama, a monkey.” Brigid pointed toward a tinker who was entertaining a circle of onlookers with an accordion while a monkey in a red suit and hat deftly snatched coins flipped to him from the crowd. “May I have a penny?”

  Kate handed the penny over to her daughter, who skipped over to the tinker’s performing animal, but instead of tossing the coin, held it out on her palm with a smile. They looked at each other, red-haired sprite and monkey. And in a flash of an instant, something unspoken appeared to pass between them. Something that caused the monkey to reach out and touch his long thin finger to the center of her hand while she continued to smile.

  “Jesus,” Alec murmured. “You’ve got yourself another one.”

  “It appears so.” Kate had suspected as much, but had never witnessed an actual sign of her daughter’s gift before.

  Brigid began chattering away to the red-suited monkey, who began chattering back while people gathered to watch the impromptu show. Even the tinker stopped playing his accordion.

  “It’s as natural to her as taking a breath,” Alec murmured.

  “Aye,” Kate agreed. Hadn’t it always been that way for her?

  Her attention was drawn by someone calling her name. She turned around, lifting her hand to her forehead to block out the sun. Then smiled in a way that caused a sharp stab of jealousy in Alec’s gut.

  “Devlin!” She raced across the grass into the arms of a man built like an oak tree. When he lifted her off her feet and twirled her around, Alec’s jaw clenched.

  “Alec, I want you to meet the best horse breeder in all of Ireland,” she said, as she dragged the man by the hand to him.

  “Second best,” he declared on a laugh. “Kate holds the champion’s crown.�
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  “I’m not the one employed at the National Stud,” she said.

  “True. But only because you refused to leave your own farm when recruited.”

  “You were offered a position at the Stud?” Alec asked.

  “Isn’t that just like our Kate,” the man said with an easy smile her way. “Always hiding her light beneath a barrel. They did, indeed, invite her to join their lofty ranks, but didn’t she wisely tell them that her roots are buried too deeply into our western bogs to transplant well to Kildare?”

  Kate’s brow furrowed at the slight edge to his tone. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his shaggy head. “Nothing I can’t deal with. It’s just more difficult than I’d expected, juggling the constant demands of the Stud, with my desire to be home occasionally with my wife.”

  He thrust out his hand. “I’m Devlin Monohan. I was in school with Kate and Nora. You’d be Alec MacKenna. Kate’s Yank.”

  “That’s me. MacKenna. Kate’s Yank.”

  Hearing the faint challenging edge in the response, Devlin’s gaze drifted down to her hip, where Alec had placed his free hand. Taken, that possessive touch said.

  “It’s glad I am to be meeting you, having heard so much about your training skills, Mr. MacKenna,” he said. “I only wish my wife, Tara, were here. She’s a little under the weather.”

  “Oh, dear,” Kate said. “I hope she’s not too ill.”

  “She’s a bit sick of me hovering over her, but insists that it’s nothing out of the ordinary for a woman who’s going to be a mother by Yuletide.”

  “A baby!” Kate’s face beamed with delight as she clapped her hands. “You’re going to have a baby?”

  “Well, I won’t be the one having it. Thank God.” He lifted his eyes skyward, then grinned at Alec, who, deciding the amiable bear was no threat, grinned back.

  “Oh, it’s such grand news. Does Nora know?”

  “Not yet. I hoped I’d be seeing her and Quinn here.”

  “The last I saw them, they were headed to the baked goods pavilion. Nora won first prize for her spice cake.”

  “And no wonder, since she’s the best cook in the county. Well, I’ll be tracking them down so I can congratulate her.” He brushed a kiss against Kate’s cheek. “It’s pleased I am to see the light back in your lovely eyes.” He turned to Alec. “Good day to you, Mr. MacKenna. I hope our paths cross again soon.”

  “He seems like a nice enough guy,” Alec said as he picked up Brigid, who’d returned from her visit with the tinker’s monkey.

  “Oh, Devlin’s a dear,” Kate said. “There was a time, when we were young, that we all thought he and Nora might marry. But that wasn’t to be their fate. He’ll make a wonderful father.”

  “Was your husband the reason you didn’t take the job at the Stud?”

  “No. I’m not saying he might not have given me a problem about it, because wasn’t he always giving me problems anyway, but I didn’t take the job for much the same reason the Stud is so highly regarded in the international racing world.”

  “What reason would that be?”

  “They take tradition extremely seriously.”

  “That’s not a bad thing. I seem to recall you saying something about the Fitzpatrick stud feeding Guinness to your pregnant mares for over a century.”

  “Ah, but see, isn’t that my point.” She smiled up at him. “Those would be our traditions. Which suit us.”

  “Makes sense to me,” he said. Wasn’t that why he wanted to establish his own stable?

  31

  THEY WERE HEADED ACROSS THE FAIRGROUNDS to the car park at the end of the day when they were approached by a man wearing the dark blue uniform of the Garda.

  “Good day, Kate,” he said.

  “And a good day to you, Gerry. I believe you know Mr. Alec MacKenna—”

  “We’ve spoken on the telephone.” He shot Alec a look and did not hold out his hand. “I’m afraid I have to speak with you, Kate. It’s official business.”

  “Official Garda business?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. It’s Cadel.”

  When the pleasure washed off her face, like a sidewalk chalk drawing beneath a torrential rain, Alec found himself wishing he had just thrown the bastard out that window.

  “Oh, dear. You’re here to tell me he’s out of hospital.”

  “He was released yesterday to await trial. Either the hospital or the Galway Garda was supposed to contact me to let me know at the time, so I could inform you, for your own safety, but somehow that didn’t happen.”

  “Well.” She drew in a breath. Let it out. Combed a hand that only trembled slightly through her hair, then lifted her chin. “Thank you for warning me, Gerry. But you needn’t worry. I’m sure the children and I will be fine. And if by any chance he does return to the stud, I’ll be ringing you up right away.”

  “He won’t be showing up at the stud, Kate.” He paused, seeming to choose his words with care.

  Before he could elaborate, Kate gasped. All the color drained out of her face as she reached instinctively for Alec’s hand and clasped it tightly with her ice-cold one. “He’s dead.”

  “Aye, that he is.” The sergeant took a pen and a small notepad from the pocket of his shirt. “He was found floating in the River Corrib this morning only a few blocks from the hospital.”

  Interestingly, it was Jamie whose expression revealed the most emotion at the news. He looked, Alec thought, as if someone had just informed him that Father Christmas had arrived eight months early.

  Responding with her newfound maturity, Zoe immediately scooped Brigid up and grabbed Jamie’s hand and took them over to a balloon vendor several meters away.

  “Since Cadel had been seen drinking at a nearby pub earlier,” the officer continued, “it was first thought that he’d gotten drunk and fallen in. But an examination proved he’d been stabbed in the heart, so, if you don’t mind, Mr. MacKenna, could you tell me your whereabouts last night?”

  “He was with me,” Kate said before Alec could respond.

  “All night?”

  “Aye.” The color was back, as was the steel in both her tone and her spine.

  He nodded. “Have you happened to have occasion to visit Galway recently, Mr. MacKenna?”

  Alec was in no mood for Irish circumlocution. “I was there yesterday morning, as I’ve no doubt you’ve already discovered. Which means you undoubtedly have also learned that I threatened O’Sullivan.”

  The sergeant glanced down at his notes. “And the nature of that threat would be?”

  “I told him that if he ever came near Kate or her children again, I’d kill him. With a knife,” he went ahead and tacked on, suspecting the sergeant probably already knew that.

  Alec heard a loud gasp and glanced over at the butcher’s wife, who was standing nearby, her hand on her chest, staring with the fascination of a woman watching a snake devour a field mouse. Realizing that by trying to protect her, he’d inadvertently opened Kate up to more gossip, he gave her an apologetic look which she told him, with a brief shake of her head, was not necessary.

  “I assume your words were meant merely as a figure of speech.”

  Despite the grim topic, Alec almost smiled at the way the cop was obviously trying to help him out for Kate’s sake. “I suppose that would have depended on whether or not O’Sullivan was stupid enough to come back to Castlelough.”

  Sergeant O’Neill nodded. “Well, he won’t be doing that, sure enough.” His expression, as he turned back to Kate was sympathetic. “I’d hate to be asking you, Kate, but the Galway Garda will be needing someone to officially identify his body.”

  “I’ll do that,” Quinn, who’d walked back with them to the car park, said.

  “I’m sorry.” It was obvious he meant it. “But regulations state it should be, if possible, a relative.”

  “O’Sullivan was Kate’s husband,” Quinn argued quietly. Forcefully. “Nora was once married to her brother. I’m now ma
rried to Nora. Which, the way I see it, makes me related to O’Sullivan.”

  “It does, indeed.” Alec was almost amused at how relieved O’Neill looked at this quintessentially Irish solution to a thorny problem. He turned back to Kate. “I’ll inform the medical examiner that Cadel’s body be returned to his family in Dungarven.”

  Relief that she wouldn’t have to be dealing with this final problem flooded into her eyes. “Thank you, Gerry.”

  As if by mutual, unspoken agreement, no one spoke of the death on the way back to the stud. Brigid, still too young to fully understand how her life had just changed, was chattering away, reliving the events of the day, the bright red balloon Zoe had tied around her wrist with a white string bobbing on the ceiling of the van. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Jamie, deep in thought, staring out the window. Alec suspected he was not all that interested in the passing scenery, but was reliving scenes from his own life with his father. Or perhaps, Alec hoped, envisioning a life completely free of threat.

  He reached across the space between them and took Kate’s hand. When she turned toward him, he saw the faint trail of silent tears on her cheeks and did not have to read her mind to know that they were not born of grief, but of relief.

  Finally wearing down like a seven-day clock on the eighth day, Brigid fell asleep before they reached the stud. Alec carried her upstairs and put her to bed, while Kate went into Jamie’s room for a private talk with her son.

  Thirty minutes later, she came down to the kitchen, where Alec was waiting.

  “How’s he doing?” He handed her a cup of strong tea.

  “Better than I could have hoped. He’s told me before that he wished Cadel was dead, but wishing and actuality are often different things.” She sighed, then took a sip of tea. “It’s a sad thing for a son to be grateful about his father’s death. I feel horribly guilty for having put him in such a situation.”