Siobhan stood up from where she was restocking a shelf of candles. She could have been a model for a Christmas card, her magnificent mane of bright red hair held back by a dark green band. “Molly, how nice to see you.”
She took a second glance at Molly’s face. “Stressed?”
“It’s just… trying to shop here.”
“I know. They all turn into children,” Siobhan said with a laugh. “Sure it’s almost impossible to keep gifts a secret here, but that’s become part of the challenge and the fun.”
Molly strolled around, perusing the things packed into the little shop: crystals and incense, pottery and soaps, jewelry, dreamcatchers of all kinds. Cards and art prints filled stands and racks. She picked out a selection of the candles she knew her mother and Rebecca both liked.
She sniffed. “What smells so good?”
Siobhan pointed toward the back of the store. “I’ve been mixing herbs for more of my cold-weather salve.”
“The hand cream? I need some.”
Siobhan shook her head. “Sorry, can’t sell you any.”
Molly frowned. “Why not?”
Siobhan gave her a dry look.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry. I have it on good authority you’ll get at least a year’s supply.”
Molly chuckled. “Fair enough.” She laid her candles on the counter.
Siobhan slid a boxed selection of scented bath salts and creams over to sit next to the candles.
“What’s that for?”
Siobhan’s sensuous lips curved in a sly smile. “I also have it on good authority that a certain book editor was eyeing this particular collection. She might even need someone to share these with.”
Molly felt a furious heat rise in her cheeks. Siobhan laughed and kissed her lightly, rubbing her thumb over Molly’s lips to wipe away the lipstick.
“Be happy, Molly.”
THE DAY BEFORE THE ferry was due, Kathleen sat at the dining table, frowning at her monitor.
“Wonderful,” she muttered aloud. “Just great. The editor actually injected an error.”
With quick jabs of her delete key, she undid the last comment. She was only three chapters from having this job done and had been pushing hard to get through it, but she couldn’t concentrate. This was stupid.
Giving up on getting any more editing done for the day, she saved her work and stood to stretch.
Blossom, who had found a way of propping himself upside down in his bed, somehow managed to twist upright and leap to his feet all in the same move.
“Shall we go for a walk?”
He’d learned the word “walk” quickly and bounded to the front door, dancing in place as he waited impatiently for Kathleen to tug on boots, jacket, hat. She hesitated a moment and took her camera out of its bag. Outside, Blossom launched himself off the porch.
“Who needs steps?”
She swept the steps clean of snow and then set off through the woods to the bluff. Blossom galloped around her, following rabbit tracks into the bushes for a few minutes before reappearing ahead of her on the trail, checking to make sure she was still coming. She stopped every so often to snap photos. She wasn’t a professional photographer, but she never knew when images like these might come in handy for a book cover.
The view from the bluff was amazing. The sky was cloudless and blue, but the water was steel gray, the horizon a hard, unbroken line.
She worked her way through the woods and back out to the road. It had been plowed to make the hard-packed snow drivable for those without four-wheel-drive. Snowmobile tracks threaded along the snowpack.
She soon found herself nearing the cemetery. The stones were all topped with snow, the graves undisturbed except by bird or rabbit tracks. She took a few more photos, playing with the light.
The little rose bush on Nanna’s grave stuck up through the snow, its bare branches loaded with rose hips.
She raised the camera to her eye, panning, and noticed something she hadn’t before. A small, shingled building stood in the shadows at the rear of the cemetery, sheltered by a stand of pines. Off to one side in a large clearing was a circle of stones stacked taller than her head, with a small doorway set in the rock. It reminded her of photos she’d seen of ancient Irish circle forts.
She made her way to the building and cautiously tried the door. It was unlocked. Pushing it open, she stepped into a chapel. Blossom followed her inside, his nose twitching.
The interior was spare, with a low kind of altar made from a rough slab of wood supported by two pillars of stacked stone. It was quiet, austere. There were a few benches scattered around, with stacks of cushions here and there, and rocks at regular intervals along the walls with candles sitting on them.
She sat on one of the benches. The light slanting through the windows hit the altar, highlighting the bark left on the natural edge of the slab. She lifted her camera to her eye.
Behind her, the door opened, and Rebecca came in.
“I’m sorry,” she said when Kathleen whirled around. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You’re not.” Kathleen stood. “I shouldn’t have come in.”
“Why not?” Rebecca carried a laundry basket full of pine greens. “This place is for all of us.” She set her basket down. “I just came to decorate for solstice and Christmas.”
“You celebrate both?”
“Of course.” Rebecca raised her hands. “We come from both. We come from all.”
Rebecca sat and patted the bench.
Kathleen joined her. “How do you celebrate?”
“We light a fire in the stone circle outside for solstice. If the weather isn’t too blustery, some will stay all through the longest night. For Christmas, we gather in here.”
“Do you have a priest come to the island?”
“We don’t need a priest,” Rebecca said a little sharply. “I’m an ordained minister. We’ve found it best to do things our way without outside interference.”
“What are the cushions for?”
Rebecca nudged one of the cushions with her toe. “Most prefer to sit on the floor, but it gets cold. For the elders, the benches are easier.”
“Will everyone fit in here?” Kathleen looked around dubiously.
“Some will choose to stay under the sky, but the weather can be unpredictable. So we try to be flexible.”
Kathleen opened her mouth to say something but then hesitated.
“What is it?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t mean… this is awkward to ask,” Kathleen fumbled. “You mentioned that the Keeper before you was Naomi.”
Rebecca nodded. “She was Wilma’s mother.”
“Is it always a woman?”
Rebecca frowned. “Come to think of it, it has always been a woman. No particular reason. Why?”
Kathleen felt a warm flush creep up into her cheeks. “I just wondered who the next Keeper will be after you?”
Rebecca’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not that old.”
“No,” Kathleen said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, how is the next Keeper chosen?”
Rebecca considered. “We’ve always had someone who just stepped in. She usually began by studying the family lines for a few years under the guidance of the previous Keeper. I had hoped Molly would be the next, but she’s never really shown any interest.”
She gazed intently at Kathleen. “Are you interested?”
Kathleen’s face burned. “I… I might be.”
Rebecca nodded. “We should probably see how things go for you here first. You’ve only been back a couple of months.”
Kathleen recoiled. It felt almost as if Rebecca had slapped her. “You think I won’t stay.”
Rebecca’s face was carefully blank. “I think there are still things that you haven’t put to rest. But if you’re serious, you should start spending some time studying the books. You can begin after the New Year if you wish.”
She stood. “Think about it.�
� She gave Blossom a pat on the head and went to spread pine branches along the wood slab of the altar.
Kathleen got to her feet and left.
THE ARRIVAL OF THE last ferry of the year was a celebration for the whole island, and nearly the entire population of the island was in town. Kathleen knew most of the faces by now, even if she couldn’t remember everyone’s names.
There was an atmosphere of joy that was contagious. As the ferry drew nearer, the excitement grew. When Joe got the gangplank in position and the ferry gate opened, out poured a stampede of children.
She’d almost forgotten the islanders’ children would be home for the holidays.
It was utter, happy chaos as everyone ran around, hugging and exclaiming over how much the kids had grown.
Kathleen found herself standing next to Olivia. “Do they stay home for a whole month until the next ferry?”
“Usually.” Olivia paused to tousle the blond head of a little boy who ran up to hug her around the waist. “If the ferry can’t make it, someone takes them back soon’s the weather clears.”
Kathleen watched the little boy who had hugged Olivia run on to hug Nels. “They’re so young to be sent away.”
“The wee ones are sent to live with relatives or host families on the mainland. They don’t board at school until they’re older.”
“And then they’re home all summer?”
Olivia nodded. “Best time o’year, when we’re all here together.”
“How crowded does it get with tourists?”
“We get a fair amount of traffic, but not near as much as Big Sister.”
There was a parade of volunteers helping to carry boxes off the ferry. Fred was actually wearing a Santa hat as he used a forklift to move a pallet loaded with heavier items. A few people took charge of calling out names and handing out the boxes.
Kathleen searched the crowd and was disappointed not to see Molly. Olivia took her by the hand and dragged her to where Joe had just called her name, passing three large boxes her way.
“Oh, you hit the jackpot,” Jenny said, coming over to them.
Kathleen grinned. “Well, they’re not for me.” She caught Olivia bending over the boxes, trying to read the labels to see where they were from. “No peeking!”
She snatched them up and put them in her car. She was opening her door to get behind the wheel when Jenny trotted over.
“You can’t leave yet.” She grabbed Kathleen by the arm. “Everyone’s coming to the diner to have supper before Bobby and Fred have to shove off again.”
“But I have Blossom—”
“Bring him.”
Kathleen allowed herself to be dragged along to the diner. Blossom curled up under her chair while people thronged into the diner, filling every table. Apparently, most folks had anticipated this, as the counter was covered with casserole dishes and pans.
“This is kind of a pot-luck,” Jenny said. “We can’t expect Wilma and Nels to make supper for everyone.”
“But I didn’t bring anything,” Kathleen protested.
“Don’t you worry about that.” Jenny swept her arm in the direction of the counter. “I don’t think we’re lacking.”
Kathleen looked around. “Where’s Molly?”
“Oh, she’s somewhere,” Jenny said vaguely.
She pushed a plate into Kathleen’s hand and nudged her along the counter, spooning bits of this and that onto her plate. They sat down and were soon joined by Tim and Miranda. He left her at the table with the baby and went to fill a plate for her.
“Tim’s growing a beard?” Kathleen asked.
Miranda checked to make sure he was out of hearing. “He’s trying. It’s his winter lumberjack look.”
He was back in a few minutes.
“You okay by yourself?” he asked.
Miranda narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
Tim grinned through his patchy whiskers. “Nels did it. I want to talk to him about it. Be back soon.”
He gave her a quick kiss and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Did what?” Kathleen asked.
Miranda smiled as she fed Ellis some of her mashed potatoes. “Nels ordered a solar panel kit for his greenhouse. He wants to experiment with having produce available for the kitchen all year round. Tim thinks we might be able to do the same and sell it at the market.”
“That would be wonderful,” Jenny said. “As much as I love preserves, fresh produce would be so nice in the winter.”
Kathleen frowned as she ate some baked chicken. “Why don’t more islanders use solar and wind turbines? We have plenty of both here. It seems natural.”
“Molly has been pushing for us to do that for years,” Jenny said.
Blossom crawled forward to lick up the bits of potato flying from Ellis’s chubby hands.
Jenny reached over to take the baby. She held him as he bounced on her lap. “You exercise those legs.” He rewarded her with a big smile.
Bobby pulled a chair up to their table. “Merry Christmas, little sister.” He draped one arm around Jenny’s shoulders.
Now that she could study them side by side, Kathleen saw the resemblance between them, with their lighter hair and blue eyes, while Rebecca, seated a few tables away, still looked as if she weren’t related to them.
“Laurie sends her love,” he said, reaching out to tickle Ellis’s fat belly. “When you gonna have grandkids?”
Jenny sighed. “I keep waiting.”
Miranda laughed, taking advantage of the opportunity to eat without Ellis grabbing her fork. “I think you might be waiting a while.”
Bobby turned to Kathleen, his curious eyes searching her face. “We’ll be shoving off soon. You staying? Last chance to get off this rock.”
Kathleen glanced around—at Wilma going from table to table, pouring coffee and chatting while Nels added food to the overflowing dishes on the counter; at Louisa, sitting with a little girl on her lap, listening raptly as she told her about her school; at the islanders she’d come to know these last few months—all more of a family than any she’d ever known.
She grinned at him. “I’m staying.”
MOLLY LISTENED FOR THE sound of Kathleen’s car as she brushed the third sample color onto the wall. When she heard it, she tapped the lid back on the paint can and went downstairs.
She stepped out onto the front porch, figuring it would not do to startle Kathleen inside her house, despite the fact that the Toyota was parked there.
“What are you doing here?” Kathleen asked.
Her puzzled frown was not lost on Molly.
“I have something to discuss with you,” Molly said.
Kathleen reached into her back seat to retrieve a box. Molly hurried out to take a second box from the car.
“How did you get inside?”
There was a definite chill in Kathleen’s voice.
“I actually have a spare key that Maisie gave me years ago in case she lost hers.”
Kathleen deposited her box on the foyer floor. Molly set hers beside it.
“So I guess I can’t have you arrested for breaking and entering.”
Molly shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Technically, it isn’t breaking and entering if I had a key. And I can’t arrest myself. I am the law here.”
Kathleen took her time hanging her jacket on a hook. “Okay. So are you going to tell me what you needed to discuss so desperately that you unlocked and entered my house when I wasn’t here?”
She turned to Molly, clearly struggling to keep her face and voice neutral.
Molly’s excitement went cold. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have… But I wanted to surprise you.”
For a tense moment, Molly half-expected Kathleen to throw her out.
Kathleen lowered her head, her face curtained by her hair. When she looked up, her expression was contrite. “No. I owe you an apology for being so… I just have a hard time letting people in my space.”
Molly exhaled. “I’ve no
ticed.” She gestured up the stairs. “Come with me.”
“Why?”
Molly took her by the hand. “Just come.”
Blossom raced up the stairs ahead of them. Molly pulled Kathleen to a stop outside Maisie’s room.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll make it right, I promise.”
She pushed the door open and stepped back.
Kathleen’s jaw dropped as she stepped into the room where Molly had painted a large swatch of each sample on each wall.
“The colors will change with the light,” Molly said quickly. “So I thought you might want to see what they look like on each wall before you make your choice.”
“How did you—?” Kathleen turned to her. “Miranda.”
Molly smiled sheepishly. “She told me what you were thinking, so I thought maybe I could do this for you for Christmas.”
Kathleen stared at her. “Why would you do that?”
Molly felt trapped. She couldn’t tear her gaze away. “I want this house to feel like home for you. I want this island to feel like home.”
“You know, I didn’t think you wanted me to stay. When I first got here—”
“I didn’t,” Molly cut in, embarrassed to remember how hostile she’d been. “I blamed you for Aidan and his drinking but… I don’t feel that way anymore.”
Kathleen bit her lip and went to the window. She took her glasses off and pressed her fingers to her eyes. Uncertain as to what her reaction meant, Molly followed.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
Kathleen shook her head. “You didn’t. No one has ever made me feel as wanted as you and everyone here.”
Molly reached a tentative hand out to Kathleen’s shoulder. Kathleen leaned her head to brush her cheek against Molly’s hand. The tenderness, the vulnerability of that gesture nearly did Molly in. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Kathleen from behind.
Kathleen turned to face her.
For what felt like eternity, their lips hovered just a hair’s breadth apart. Kathleen’s eyes were hesitant, almost fearful. Molly leaned in and met Kathleen’s mouth with hers. Lips parted, soft and yielding as Molly enfolded Kathleen in her arms, pulling her close. Kathleen reached out to encircle Molly’s waist as their kiss deepened. Molly ran her hands over Kathleen’s back and up to her hair. When they parted, Kathleen leaned against Molly, pressing her face into the crook of her neck. Molly held her tightly.
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