The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 1-4) Read online

Page 9


  "Slàinte." Fiona issued the standard Irish cheer and toasted Keelin. They both sipped their whiskey silently. Finally, Fiona spoke.

  "What happened today? Actually, I should ask what happened last night as well." Fiona met Keelin's eyes. There was steel in them.

  Keelin gulped. "Um, okay, last night was stupid. I shouldn't have gone down to the cove. I know that I was being unsafe but I wasn't thinking clearly after a few ciders. It was just so confusing to me that the moonlight wouldn't shine in the cove. I was stupid though. I ran right down and scooped up a handful of water. It happened so quickly." Keelin shuddered.

  "What did?" Fiona asked carefully.

  "The wave. It slammed me immediately and took me under. I can't believe the force of it. There were no waves when I went down." Keelin shook her head.

  Fiona nodded and stared down at her glass. "Flynn saved you last night, didn't he?"

  "He did. And today. I don't even know how he always manages to be there. I guess that I should be grateful," Keelin said grumpily.

  Fiona laughed. "Tell me about today."

  "I went down to the cove to snorkel and I wanted to just get a lay of the land, start mapping the coral formations, and look at the variety of species in the water. I did what you said for protection." Keelin explained what she did for the ritual, her initial impression of the water, and how she quickly got dragged out to sea. She downplayed Flynn's rescue so as not to worry the older woman.

  Fiona eyed her closely.

  "It had to have been a bigger deal than you are saying as there is an exceptionally strong current outside the cove. Most people don't come back from that. You are very lucky that Flynn was there."

  "Grr. I know, I know." Keelin knew she sounded like a whiny child.

  Fiona smiled.

  "Get your knickers in a bundle, does he?"

  Keelin choked on her sip of whiskey and broke into a coughing fit.

  "Grandma!"

  "What? I was a young woman once. I wasn't unaffected by strong muscles and chiseled jawbones, you know. How do you think I fell in love with your grandfather?" Fiona winked and Keelin laughed.

  "What do you plan to do about him?" Fiona asked casually.

  "I don't know. He scares the shit out of me to be honest."

  "Even better," Fiona said.

  "I don't want to talk about Flynn. Tell me about the gold that I thought I saw. What happened today?" Keelin asked. She was uncomfortable discussing Flynn. She already spent too much time thinking about him.

  Fiona picked up the small book she had pulled out earlier. She began paging through it silently, nodding a few times, and then closed it.

  "This book has been passed down from Grace O'Malley's daughter. She speaks of her mother in here as well as the cove. One of her mother's greatest wishes was to be left in peace as she chose her final resting place to be the cove. This is the reason we do the protection ritual and bring offerings. It is sacred water."

  "But I did it! I did the ritual and brought offerings." Keelin huffed out an angry breath.

  "Then your purposes for being there were impure."

  Keelin immediately flashed to Flynn and his strong hands wrenching an orgasm from her. She flushed.

  Fiona's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Impure as in you wanted something from the cove. Why did you go there today?"

  "I told you, to work on my studies."

  "You're lying." Fiona sipped her whiskey calmly.

  Keelin stopped. Why had she gone there today? Of course it was for her studies, she thought. Liar, liar, her brain whispered to her. She looked into Fiona's knowing eyes.

  "I wanted to find the chalice. What a huge accomplishment it would be for my beginning career and for Ireland's National Museum!" Keelin blurted it out and then stared down at her hands.

  Fiona reached over and patted Keelin's hand.

  "You're lucky. It's a hard lesson to learn that most don't live through. I'll be forever thankful that Flynn was there today. I'll invite him over for dinner this week to thank him." Fiona smiled.

  Keelin started to protest and then stopped. Margaret had bred manners into her and she knew that a thank you would be polite. She was grateful that Fiona didn't make a bigger deal of her reasons behind going to the cove today. She was embarrassed to realize how selfish she had been in her goals. In doing so, she had disrupted sacred waters.

  "Plus he gave you this sweet puppy. Does this mean that you are staying then?" Fiona asked, casually cleaning up their glasses and putting the book away.

  Startled, Keelin looked up at Fiona. She certainly knew how to cut to the quick of things.

  "I, um, well. Yes, I was considering extending my stay indefinitely if you didn't mind. I think it is time to take myself more seriously. I mean, you know, this healing stuff." Keelin flushed.

  "Ah, yes." Fiona nodded and smiled.

  "I think a part of me will die if I don't," Keelin blurted out.

  "That is the way of power. Most people are intuitive, you know, though most don't have the type of gifts that you and I have. However, a gift of power, denied repeatedly, dims, and eventually one can no longer hear it or feel it. It is no longer your reality. In denying it, a piece of you will die."

  Keelin had suspected as much. She thought again of life in Boston. Finish school, marry a nice young man, start a family…and on into oblivion. There was no punch, no spice in Boston. Grace's Cove was magic and so was she. It was time to accept it and harness it. Light filled her and she smiled. Her gut sang and she knew her intuition was right. She was home. Her mother was going to lose it.

  "I'll be glad to have the company. It gets lonely here," Fiona said.

  "I'll be here, Grandma. You have me now."

  Chapter 13

  The next day dawned with a gentle breeze. The sun kissed the shoreline as Ronan yipped to go outside. Keelin struggled awake from a night of steamy dreams about Flynn. That man was going to drive her crazy. Ronan whined at the foot of her bed.

  "Okay, let's go outside."

  She pulled a loose sweatshirt on over her tank and sleep shorts and padded outside, enjoying the sunshine and stunning view while Ronan did his business. She shielded her eyes against the sun and looked up to the ridgeline. Flynn's dog watched her. She waved and she could have sworn the dog damn near waved back as it lifted its paw.

  "I must be losing it."

  Too much talk of power and magic was making her a little nuts. She laughed as she imagined what Margaret would make of all this. She made a note to call her mother later that day.

  Ronan let out a warning growl, his hair on end. Fiona approached from the path and, recognizing her scent, he let out happy barks and raced to meet her, upending himself and rolling over as he got to her. She laughed like a girl and ruffled his ears. Ronan was good for them both, Keelin thought.

  "Where were you?" Keelin asked.

  "I was gathering some special herbs that were ready to harvest. I have a tincture that I am making for Mrs. Sullivan in the village. Her arthritis is acting up."

  Keelin realized that she had been so focused on her own stuff that she hadn't thought to ask Fiona about her "practice."

  "Do you do this a lot? Provide remedies for people on a regular basis? I got the impression that people only came to you in serious times of need."

  Fiona stretched her lower back and looked out at the water before answering.

  "It depends. Some people fear me. They make the sign of the cross as I pass, as though I was something evil and not a God-fearing Christian such as themselves. Little do they know that there is more than just God out there and they need to open their minds. However, there are plenty of people that see me for what I am – a healer. Most assume that is through potions, tinctures, and herbal ointments that I create. Some suspect magic. Very few have seen the physical effects of what I am able to do with my hands. Those that have say nothing, as it is usually done only in the direst of circumstances. Only when people are pushed to the threshold of pain f
or themselves or a loved one are they willing to suspend their beliefs on what works. Only then will they believe that healing can come in many ways not prescribed by modern medicine."

  "What do you say to people when they see you heal?"

  "Nothing. I'm not required to explain myself, nor do I think I could accurately do so. I can no more tell you why I have this gift than I can tell you how many stars in the sky there are."

  Keelin supposed it made sense. From a scientific standpoint, there was no logical explanation for healing through touch. The closest thing she could think of was massage or acupuncture, but to close wounds or to pull sickness from a body? That was a whole different realm. She wondered if studies had been done on this.

  Keelin looked down at her hands. Small, with rounded nails cut short, and no nail polish, they hid the power they held. Was it time to step into her own and accept that she would never be normal?

  "I want to learn. All of it. I'll start taking my lessons seriously. On one condition."

  Fiona turned and looked at her, a smile hovering on her lips.

  "I want you to take me into the cove. I promise that I won't take anything out of the cove. But I need to see it. I need to know what is in there. Something is pulling me there."

  Fiona's hands continued to adeptly tie the bundles of herbs she had picked. She was silent for a long moment as Ronan raced across the yard, chasing a butterfly. The cove spread out before them. It beckoned to Keelin.

  "Yes. I can no more keep you from the water than you can keep me from the hills. It's in your blood. We'll begin today."

  Satisfied, Keelin called for Ronan. They both had some growing up to do.

  Fiona packed a bag lunch for the both of them. She gathered the worn leather book, various jars, several crystals, and shears to harvest herbs. Keelin packed her snorkeling gear and put together a bag of toys and water for Ronan. Fiona surprised her when she pulled out old, yet serviceable, snorkel equipment.

  "You dive?" Keelin asked.

  "Of course, my dear. You can't live on the water and not know the water."

  Impressed, Keelin picked up Fiona's gear and carried both as they made their way to the edge of the cliffs. It was one of those perfect summer days. The sun warmed the Kerry green of the grass that carpeted the rolling hills behind them, the stark edges of the cliffs hugged the gentle waters of the cove, and the waves lapped invitingly on the empty sand beach. Keelin inhaled the sea air, a deep breath that she dragged into her core, and exhaled, allowing the tension to fade from her. Purity of purpose, she thought.

  They carefully picked their way down the path on the ledge, Ronan running excitedly ahead of them.

  "Will Ronan be harmed here?" Keelin asked.

  "Most likely not. A dog's purpose is to love life and to serve its master. They care little for harming the cove. The cove knows that," Fiona said.

  They reached the base and stopped. Fiona pulled out several small crystals in varying shapes and colors. She held them in her hand and drew a circle in the sand around them.

  "Oh, most sacred of sacred waters, we come to you today to learn and grow. Anything we take from here will be for the purest form of healing and nothing more. We pay our due respects by offering you these stones. We ask that our angels serve as protection as we enter these sacred waters in the most humble of manners." Fiona handed Keelin some crystals and they gently threw them into the waters of the cove.

  "That should be good. Let's get Ronan set up in a spot."

  Fiona and Keelin spent the afternoon snorkeling in the waters of the cove. Fiona knew all of the nooks and crannies and soon Keelin found herself immersed in the varying coral formations that lined the length of the cove.

  As the shadows began to deepen, Keelin and Fiona sat on the beach, Ronan running in circles around them. Fiona laid out their finds for the day. Before them lay piles of rocks, corals, and crystals, some of which Keelin couldn't classify. There was a pile of kelp, seaweed, sea urchins, and mussels. Sand and deep clay lay damply in several large mason jars. A pile of moss scraped from the rocks further out in the cove lay out, drying in the sun. Fiona spent time explaining the various uses for the seaweed, the mosses, and how different crystals used different healing energies. Keelin made notes in her book and tried to look at it like a chemistry class. She was worried though. She'd never been a good cook and a lot of this sounded like recipes. What if she screwed it up and hurt someone?

  Fiona seemed to read her mind, and laughed.

  "Practice. You'll learn all of this. And, ultimately, it is learning to trust your own intuition. Your own power will tell you if you are doing something wrong or if you are using the wrong potion or wrong ingredient. It is very different than following recipes to a T. There is no exact science with this. These are the ingredients. Your potions and ointments will be different than mine. Yours will work with you better than they will with me. You just have to trust in yourself."

  "What if I screw it up? What if I hurt someone?" Keelin blurted out.

  "We all make mistakes. How do you think a doctor feels when they first start out? You have to learn to listen to yourself and believe in your own power. Start there. Start small. It will build."

  As the sun began to dip low, they gathered their supplies and turned to head home. Keelin caught a faint blue glow in the cove.

  "There! See, look, look!" She grabbed Fiona and turned her just as the light faded.

  "You've seen it!" Fiona said.

  "Yes, what is it? I can't figure it out."

  "I've been researching for years. The best that I can piece together is that the cove will light up for its own. I also know that it glows in the presence of love."

  Keelin blushed as her thoughts flashed to Flynn sending her over the edge the other night. The cove had definitely glowed blue then. But, love? No way. She barely knew this enigmatic Flynn. Which, she reminded herself, was why she shouldn't be kissing him, let alone letting him underneath her clothes.

  As they approached the cottage, Ronan growled and let out some warning barks. A late-model sedan was parked in front and Keelin recognized blond Shane from the pub the other night.

  "Hmpf," Fiona said as she nodded to him and sailed past him inside.

  "Um, sorry about that. She's had a long day," Keelin said. Shane walked around the car as Ronan stood in front of Keelin, barking at Shane. He was dressed in business clothes today, his tie pulled loose and his top button open. His white shirt was crisp and tucked into Irish-wool pants. He bent over to let Ronan smell his hand. Ronan approached him and gave his hand a tentative lick, then backed up and sat on Keelin's feet.

  Shane grinned down at him and then looked Keelin up and down. She knew she was mussed and sandy, and blushed a bit. Her tank top clung to her wetsuit and her shorts had sand on them.

  "Where'd this little guy come from?" he asked.

  "Um, a gift from a friend." Keelin wasn't sure why she didn't say it was from Flynn.

  "Looks like one of Flynn's. He has some of the best dogs in the country. You're lucky to have one."

  Keelin hadn't known that Flynn bred dogs. Chalk it up to another thing she didn't know about the man. She preferred to think of him as a surly, uncommunicative fisherman. The picture of him lovingly nursing a mama dog flashed into her mind and she softened a bit.

  "Yes, he is quite a sweetheart. So, what brings you here today?" Keelin brushed sand from her arm and tried to stop herself from peeling her tank top from her suit. She felt like she was on display.

  "I stopped to see if I could take you to dinner." Shane stared at her very directly, his intentions clear.

  "Me? What about..." Keelin stopped. She was about to say, "What about Cait," yet she had no idea what their relationship was, nor was it any of her business. It wasn't like she had heard from Cait since she had been here either. Still, she knew small towns and didn't want to start the gossip mill running. That being said, she was certain Flynn would hear of it. That decided it for her.

  "Sur
e, I would love to go to dinner. But! Just as friends," Keelin said sternly.

  Shane's smiled broadened. "Sure, friends it is. I'll wait while you change."

  "Okay, I need a little time to shower."

  "That's fine, I'll enjoy the sunset and talk to Ronan."

  Keelin dropped her gear inside and went to shower, passing Fiona muttering at the kitchen counter.

  "I'm going to dinner with Shane. I'm not sure when I will be back. Do you need anything from the village?"

  "No. And you be careful with that man."

  Keelin stopped at her doorway. "What is your problem with him? You sailed right past him and barely said a word. Yet you treat Flynn like he's God. What's the deal?" Keelin hissed at her, hoping her voice didn't carry.

  "He's not for you," Fiona said enigmatically, and turned back to knead her bread. Conversation was over, apparently. Keelin threw up her hands and went to shower.

  In deference to the warm evening, Keelin pulled her hair back and let it flow down her shoulders, curling mildly with the sea air. She pulled on a navy blue linen sundress that complemented her hair color and deep brown eyes, and put on some thin silver necklaces. She pulled out a flat pair of strappy silver sandals and a small bag. The sun had touched her skin with color so a little lip gloss and mascara was all she needed. It would be nice to go out and learn more about the town.

  Keelin left her room and stopped by Fiona's chair.

  "I told him it was just as friends. Just so you know."

  "Mmhmm. I know what you're doing. Be careful the games you play."

  "Oh, stop. This isn't the 1900s. Girls can have guys as friends, you know. I have several in Boston," Keelin said definitively.

  Fiona nodded and didn't say anything. Sighing, Keelin picked up her purse and stroked Ronan under his chin. She let herself out of the cottage and caught a glimpse of movement up on the ridgeline. She could have sworn she saw the shadow of a man but it could have been a sheep for all she knew. Or cared. Shane straightened from his perch on the front bumper of his car and whistled. Keelin laughed.

  "Oh, stop."