by Clare Austin
Neither spoke for several minutes. The air of evening had cooled with a breeze off Boston Harbor. The impact of each hoof, steel against paving stone, punctuated the silence in the rhythm of an era lost in the past.
Muireann wove her fingers through his, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “My mother is doing okay. She’s still very confused, but she knew I was coming to see you. She sent her thanks.” Her eyes lifted to him and Tynan tried to read them. “She asked me to give you a message. Geal bheith ag filleadh go hEirinn. Chonaic mo dhóthair de thíortha í. Do you know what she meant?”
“Bright is my heart and bright is the sun. Bright to be returning to Ireland.” Ty sang the words to the tune “Trasna Na dTonnta,” “Westering Home.” “Yes, I do know what she meant.”
“Would you like to let me in on the secret?”
“Amazing how it can be so hot during the day and cool in the evening.” To give him a minute to organize his thoughts, Ty reached across the seat for a lap shawl and pulled it over their legs. “When I was trying to get your mam to come out of the cave with me, she started to sing that old song. I couldn’t remember the last line of the first verse. It had been years since I’d heard the tune. She got frustrated with me and slipped out of my arms for a moment.” Ty’s brow tightened at the memory of the struggle. “I guess she thought I ought to know the whole song. I’ll be sure never to forget it now.”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “To thank you.”
Ty’s heart sank. “Oh. Well then, you’re welcome.” He gave her hand a little squeeze.
Without another word, she pulled him to her and kissed him. It wasn’t a sisterly “thank you” kind of kiss. Instead, Ty thought it was too quick, passionate, but with a slight edge of anger. He leaned away just far enough to see her whole face. Her lips parted and she had a look of feral dismay in her dark eyes. “What was that all about?” he asked.
“It’s about why I came all this way.”
“So you didn’t only come to thank me?”
Muireann slowly shook her head. “Can we try that again? I’ve an important decision to make here.” She kissed him again. This time there was no quickness to it. It left him a bit stunned.
“Does that help clarify things?” he queried.
A tiny hint of a smile touched her lips. “One more time…just to make certain.”
Ty held a finger to her lips. “Just hold on a minute here. I know I’m a great kisser, but you did not come all the way from Ballinacurragh for one last kiss. Even for two,” he added.
Muireann looked at the sky, took a deep breath, and turned back to Ty. “No, not really. I came because a selkie told me to.”
Tynan’s hand slipped around her neck and drew her close. “I dare you to say that again,” he teased. “I dare you to say it loud enough that the horse and driver can hear you.”
Muireann stood, rocked a bit with the movement of the carriage, and steadied herself. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll announce it to all of Boston. Hey, everyone…listen up,” she called to anyone within earshot. “I love this man, and a selkie told me to come here and tell him. Now, whatta ya think about that?”
The driver turned with a grin. “I’ve heard a lot of declarations of love in the years I’ve run a carriage here in Boston, but I think this is a first.” A man dressed like the Statue of Liberty gave Ty a thumbs-up. There were whistles and hoots from the crowd.
Tynan took her in his arms. “You will always be for me. I love you, seal woman.” He brushed her long hair behind her ear and whispered into it. “Do you need any convincing?”
“I lied. I was convinced before I got on the airplane.” She kissed him lightly. “Do you really think I’d fly all this way unless I knew I loved you?”
“I was beginning to think you might, just to find out the name of the tune I played for you.”
“I have to confess, two things I cannot abide—losing a dare and admitting I don’t know the name of a tune.”
“I wrote it for you. It’s called Selkie’s Song.”
A word about the author...
Clare Austin submitted her first manuscript to a publisher at the age of eight years. She wishes she still had that rejection letter.
Many years and not a few stories later, with characters knocking at the inside of her cranium and begging to be released, Clare’s romantic comedy, Butterfly, was published. There followed a suspenseful sequel, Angel’s Share, and Hot Flash, a women’s fiction/romance for mature women and the men who love them.
Clare lives in the beautiful Rocky Mountains and enjoys her horses, playing her violin, and traveling to Ireland every summer.
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Butterfly by Clare Austin
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Santorini Sunset by Claire Croxton
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Selkie’s Song
Copyright
Praise for Clare Austin...
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A word about the author...
Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
