Pregnancy. She was pregnant.
"You'll have to tell him, of course," Fiona said matter-of-factly. Margaret whirled on her in horror.
"I will do no such thing! He left me," Margaret said.
"Aye, and now you've a babe to think of. He'll know one way or the other," Fiona said and stood. She held her hands down to her daughter and Margaret allowed her to pull her up.
"Let me get you some medicine for your stomach. I don't want you to upset the babe with your histrionics," Fiona said and left the room.
Margaret paced the room. A baby. How had this even happened? She shook her head with a soft laugh. She knew how it happened. In the best and the worst moment of her life.
Placing a hand on her belly, she wondered if she could feel her baby. Could she know that a baby was there? Letting down her shields, she reached inward.
Margaret gasped, as a little glow of love and light reached out to her from within.
Her baby.
A profound sense of joy filled her. Unable to move, unable to speak, Margaret gaped down at her stomach.
Her baby. Nobody else's.
The wheels turning, Margaret straightened her shoulders and went to take Fiona's medicine.
A thought occurred to her as her hand reached for the door.
Conceived in the cove.
All daughters of Grace would be touched with a gift. Something.
Horror filled Margaret at the thought of her daughter growing up subjected to the same abnormal lifestyle she had. Margaret rushed into the main room of the cottage.
"Can you tell if it is a girl?" Margaret all but shouted at Fiona.
Fiona's hands stilled on the cup of medicine that she was mixing in a bowl. Turning, she met Margaret's eyes.
"Why?"
"Why? Why! Because, then she'd be different. A freak!" Margaret shrieked at her mother and Fiona's face fell.
"We are not freaks. We are special," Fiona said.
"I have a right to my own opinion," Margaret said defiantly.
"Aye, that you do. Yes, it's a girl," Fiona said stonily and slammed the cup of medicine on the table in front of her daughter. Turning, she walked out of the cottage and Margaret’s gaze trailed after her.
A girl.
"Oh no, oh, I'm sorry," Margaret whispered to the small ball of light in her stomach. "I'll protect you. I'll take you away from all of this."
Margaret drank her medicine and began to plan.
Chapter 14
The next day, a knock startled Margaret as she was sorting through a pile of clothes. She wondered what would still fit her in just a matter of weeks. Fiona had left earlier that day, presumably to collect herbs for her remedies, Margaret thought as she walked to the front door.
Opening the door, she saw the post office truck outside and her heart did a little skip.
"International letter for you, Margaret," the mailman said and handed her a paper to sign. Margaret's hand trembled as she signed the receipt and grabbed the letter. Without a backward glance, she closed the door and hurried to Fiona's rocking chair.
Sitting down, she slit the letter open and pulled the sheet of paper out.
Hi Margaret,
Yes, please come! I'd love to have family here. I live in South Boston and we have an extra room for you. There are plenty of real estate companies that are hiring too. Come over, I need to hear more Irish voices around me! Here is my phone number and my schedule.
The words blurred in front of Margaret's eyes as the tears came, fast and furious. Her out. She finally had an out.
"I'm taking you away from this all, little one. We'll start a new life away from this weirdness. And you'll have nothing but the best," Margaret vowed.
Standing, Margaret rushed into her room and threw the rest of her clothes into a suitcase. Turning, she scanned the room for anything else that she would need. Seeing nothing, she moved into the main room and sat at the long table with a pen and paper. She owed Fiona a letter.
Chapter 15
Fiona stopped as she stepped through the door later that night. She'd driven to the next town over that day and was excited to show Margaret the things she purchased for the baby. She knew with a little prodding, her stubborn daughter would come around and eventually be happy about her pregnancy.
Fiona's eyes tracked over the house. Something was different. She could feel it.
Her eyes landed on her book laying outside of its usual spot on the middle of the table. It was open to a page. A letter with her name on it lay on top.
Fiona's hands began to shake as she walked toward the book. Lifting the letter she looked to where the book was open. She sighed and, without having to read the letter, knew that Margaret was gone. The page Margaret had picked held an ancient Celtic ritual to encourage forgiveness in others. In her own way, Margaret was asking her mother to forgive her.
Fiona dropped the sacks of clothes and toys she had purchased and moved to sit in her rocking chair.
The warm wood enveloped her and she relaxed back into its familiar grooves before slitting the envelope open and pulling the sheet of paper out.
I'm sorry.
I'll just start with that. I'm sorry that I said all those nasty things to you. I'm sorry that I was never the daughter that you wanted. But, I just can't understand this life. It's too much for me. Maybe I'm too sensitive, maybe it's my ability. This is too hard for me to accept. And, I can't live here, knowing that my daughter will be exposed to all of this. What if she is something worse? What weird gift will the cove bring out in her? I need to get her as far away as possible from all of this. I have to give her a chance. A fighting chance at a normal life.
And, I suppose that I need to give myself a chance. I want something more. More than this town has to offer me. I'm going to try my hand at selling real estate. I've been studying for weeks now and I know that I'll be good at it. I need to go. To take this chance. For the both of us.
Just so you don't worry, I've gone to Boston to stay with Cousin Mary. She's going to help me get on my feet. I'm leaving my car at the Shannon airport with the key tucked under the bumper. I'm sorry that you'll have to send someone to get it.
I don't hate you. I really don't. But, I can't understand you. I'm not like you. Please understand that.
I love you and I promise to write. Don’t worry about me, I'll take care of myself and my daughter. She'll have the best life that I can give her.
If Sean ever comes for me, tell him to start a new life without me. I'll raise my daughter on my own. I don't want him near me.
Love,
Margaret
Tears dripped down Fiona's face and plopped onto the paper. Although she sensed this day was coming soon, Margaret had surprised her. Fiona had never expected her to leave the country. A wave of sadness washed through her. A sadness for what was. What could have been.
A knock at the door startled her. Wiping her eyes quickly, Fiona glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was 9:00 in the evening. Who could be knocking at her door now?
Straightening her back, she went to the door and cracked it open.
Her heart dropped.
Sean stood there, his hat in his hands.
"Ma'am," Sean said, bobbing his head respectfully at her.
"Oh no," Fiona said, shaking her head back and forth.
"What? Oh, please, I know Margaret hates me, but I've come to apologize to her. Is she around?" Sean looked over Fiona's head eagerly.
"Sean. Come in," Fiona said and turned, heading straight for the cabinet that housed her whiskey.
"Thanks, is she here?" Sean said, anxiously turning his cap in his hands.
"Sit," Fiona ordered.
Sean took a seat next to the pile of baby clothes which had fallen from the bags Fiona dropped. He glanced at the clothes and looked away. Fiona sighed as she thought about how she would have to handle this.
"Sean, Margaret's gone," Fiona said, deciding on brevity.
"Okay, when will she be back? I can
wait," Sean said.
"No. Gone, packed her bags, left town," Fiona said. She watched as Sean's face dropped.
"She went to Dublin without me, didn't she. I knew that I should have come to see her sooner," Sean said morosely.
Fiona poured him a small glass of whiskey.
"She's not in Dublin."
"Where is she?" Sean asked, confusion crossing his handsome face.
"Why don't you tell me what happened first?" Fiona asked and watched Sean's face poker up. She sighed.
"I'm well aware that you had sex with my daughter. Tell me why you left."
Sean gaped at her for a moment before picking up the glass and downing the whiskey in one gulp.
"Um, it wasn't her. I never really wanted to leave her. I love her. But, it was something that happened."
Fiona gestured with her own glass of whiskey for Sean to continue.
"The water. It just glowed. I know this sounds crazy. But one moment it was normal and the next it was shining this brilliant blue light. We ran for our lives. I…I turned on Margaret. Blamed her for it. I left her there to walk home alone," Sean said sheepishly.
Fiona reached out and poured Sean another glass of whiskey. She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing now that her daughter flew away from her one true love. The cove had been trying to send them both a message.
"What made you come back?" Fiona inquired, bypassing the reason for the cove glowing blue.
"Well, I kind of asked around town about…Seems like it might just be this phenomenon that happens there. But, it wasn't Margaret, I'm sure of that now." Sean said.
Fiona closed her eyes as she thought about the pain her daughter had been in. Sean running from her had only confirmed Margaret's belief that she was a freak. It was the perfect storm.
Knowing that she was about to rock this boy's world forever, Fiona drained her glass of whiskey.
"She's on a plane to Boston. For good," Fiona said and watched as the color drained from Sean’s cheeks.
"No," Sean said, shaking his head in disbelief and denial.
"She left." Fiona said.
"Then I'll go get her." Sean said, determination ringing in his voice. Fiona sighed.
"Sean, what do you see sitting next to you?"
"Baby clothes. So?" Sean shrugged and played with his glass. His hands stilled as realization washed over him.
"Yes, Sean. Baby clothes. Do you think that I'm pregnant?" Fiona inquired of him.
"Baby…Margaret. Margaret's pregnant? And, she left? Just like that?" Sean slammed his fist onto the table and got up to pace. "I have rights as a father, you know. She can't just leave!"
"Well, I'm sorry, Sean, but she did. She didn't believe in you. Frankly, neither did I."
"I'm going after her," Sean declared.
"No," Fiona said forcefully. Sighing, she handed him Margaret's letter and watched as his heart broke in front of her.
Sighing, Fiona pulled him into her arms as he sobbed. Together, they both cried for a love lost, a life lost, and for an unknown future.
Chapter 16
Margaret stared out the window as the plane approached Boston. She stayed awake the entire flight, questioning her choice. Every time, she came to the conclusion that she'd had none.
This was her new life.
Smiling, she patted her stomach and watched Boston's downtown come into view. It was a whole new world for her and her baby. Together, they'd make it.
Chapter 17
Twenty-Eight Years Later
Margaret took a sip of her wine, watching Keelin dance her first dance as a married woman. How had she grown up so fast?
And somehow, Keelin had ended up back in Grace's Cove. The one place Margaret had sworn she'd never go back to. Margaret bit back the old feeling of bitterness that swelled in her throat.
“Long time no see,” Sean drawled from behind her and Margaret's back stiffened. Taking a deep breath, she turned to measure Sean with her eyes.
Damn, the man was as handsome as ever. The well-cut tux showcased his broad shoulders. Though a few grays peppered his hair, his presence still radiated strength and virility. She'd done her best to steer clear of him since she'd arrived in Grace's Cove the night before, but it looked like their confrontation had arrived. Bracing her shoulders, and lifting her chin, Margaret eyed him.
“Sean,” Margaret said coolly.
“Come on, Maggie, that's the best you can do?” Sean asked, raising his eyebrow at her.
“It might be,” she said, sticking her nose in the air at her nickname.
“I don't like that answer,” Sean said, stepping closer and forcing her to look up at him. Margaret hadn't expected the punch of him. Heat licked low in her stomach.
“Well, you can't always get what you want,” Margaret said flippantly.
“Yeah, so I've learned,” Sean said bitterly. “But this time, I plan to.”
Margaret's heart leapt into her throat as he pulled the wine glass from her hand and stepped closer, forcing her to step backwards into the darkness.
“What are you doing?”
“What I've been meaning to do for a long time,” Sean said.
“Excuse me?” Margaret asked, steel lacing her voice.
And found the air all but knocked out of her as Sean reached down and hoisted her so that her body hung over his shoulder, her face staring at a very attractive bottom clad in tuxedo pants.
“You're crazy,” Margaret hissed, turning and smacking Sean lightly on the head. “Put me down this instant. This is unbecoming.”
“I'll show you unbecoming,” Sean muttered, continuing to stalk into the darkness. Margaret had a sinking suspicion of just where Sean was headed.
The site of their last showdown.
Of course Keelin had to go and have the wedding on the cliffs overlooking the most pivotal moment in her life, Margaret grumbled to herself, praying that none of the guests dancing in the tent had seen Sean carry her off.
“Hello, Shane,” Sean called and Margaret whipped her head around to see the dim outline of Shane, a local realtor she'd met the night before, stalking away from the cove.
“Sean!” Margaret gasped, feeling heat creep into her cheeks. She'd never found herself in such a comprising position before.
Oh wait, just that one time. With this same man.
And wasn't this just why she had stayed away from Grace's Cove?
Chapter 18
“Put me down,” Margaret hissed again, as dizziness began to overtake her from swinging upside down from Sean's shoulder. The darkness had enveloped them and the lights of the tent looked like dainty fairy lights, twinkling on the hillside just above the cliffs that Sean now stood on.
The sound of waves crashing far below made Margaret's blood begin to hum, and she knew the cove was calling to her, welcoming her home.
Too bad she never wanted any part of this home, Margaret thought on a shiver.
“Hey!” She gasped when Sean reached up to cup her bottom, pulling her over his shoulder and sliding her down the front of his body, heat trailing between.
This time when Margaret shivered, it was for a different reason.
“Sean,” Margaret began, moving to distance herself from his body, surprised that she felt so nervous. It wasn't often that Margaret was caught off guard, but five minutes back in Sean's presence and she couldn't find her ground.
“Save it,” Sean bit out, before pulling Margaret to him and sliding his lips over hers, dragging her down into a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
For a moment – just a moment – Margaret allowed herself to be pulled under by the promise of Sean, years of buried feelings coming to a head in her heart. Realizing that she needed to be the adult here, Margaret tore her lips away from his and put her hand on Sean's chest, pushing back from him.
“Enough,” she said firmly, doing her best to regulate her breathing and not show just how much the kiss had affected her.
Or to acknowledge the
press of his feelings, which she desperately tried to batter away from her mind. Margaret was surprised that her gift – one she kept strongly sheltered – had kicked up so strongly since she’d been home.
“It will never be enough, Margaret O'Brien,” Sean swore and stepped away from her. He let out a stream of curses that made her glance nervously around to see if any wedding guests had wandered close to them.
“Could you please not curse at my daughter's wedding?” Margaret asked primly, smoothing her silk dress.
Sean swung back around and advanced until their noses were almost touching. Margaret could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest, and did her best to level her gaze at Sean.
“Our daughter. Ours,” Sean spat out.
“Yes, I suppose that's true,” Margaret said, delicately shrugging her shoulders.
“I could throttle you,” Sean said, bringing his hands to her shoulders to squeeze her tightly. The sound of the waves kicked up below and Margaret felt a flutter of panic as she wondered what the magic from the cove would do if Sean tried to hurt her.
“Oh, knock it off,” Sean turned and shouted down into the cove. Margaret's mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Sure and you haven't gone off the deep end, have you now?” Margaret asked, genuine concern lacing her voice.
“You think that I haven't learned all about the little tricks the cove will pull? My daughter's one of Grace's. Both of my daughters,” Sean spit out, stepping back to pace. Margaret watched him warily, unsure of where this conversation was going.
“Maggie, I'm so damn angry with you,” Sean finally said; Margaret couldn’t help but feel her heart crack a bit for the love they'd once had – two foolish lovers thinking they could take on the world together.
“You left me,” Margaret said, running her hands up and down her arms against a sudden chill.
The Mystic Cove Series Boxed Set (Wild Irish Books 5-7) Page 6
