by Sophie Moss
She fought him, struggling, her nails digging into his flesh. His voice—a low, terrifying growl in her ear—hitched when his foot slipped. He tripped, losing his grip for a split second. She jerked free. Only to be dragged back by her wrist, her head snapping around like a doll’s. Anger poured from his throat in a violent rage. She cried out as the back of his hand slammed into her face.
***
“Are you sure this was his boat?” Glenna cried when Sam cut the engine next to the wreck.
“No, but it could be.” Sam threw his leg over the side of the boat.
Glenna grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going in.”
The boat rocked in the choppy water, pushing them toward the rocks. “You can’t go in there!”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t have time to search for another person!”
Sam threw his other leg over the side of the boat and jumped into the frigid water. “I’m a strong swimmer.”
Glenna watched him disappear under the surface and turned, racing to the other side of the boat when she spotted Dominic standing at the bow of the approaching police boat, his eyes raking the surface of the water. “Dominic,” she called out over the engine. “We don’t even know if this was her—”
He pushed off the bow, diving into the water.
Glenna squeezed her eyes shut. There was no way. No way anyone could have survived this crash. She heard the splash as Sam surfaced. “Did you see anything?”
“No,” he shouted, treading water. “Nothing.”
Glenna’s eyes combed the surface, scanning for something, anything that would tell her if Tara had been on this boat. She heard Sam fill his lungs with air, watched him dive back under. What were they going to do if they couldn’t find anything? If there wasn’t even anything left to find?
She leaned over the rail, watching the two men dive, reaching for splintered pieces of wood and torn seat cushions that floated toward her. She heard the raised voices on the other side of the rocks, heard the officers calling out to each other over their motors as more boats arrived. She was pulling a wedge of wood from the water when a hand—Sam’s hand—shot out from under the water and grabbed it from her.
He slung an arm over the side of the boat, working a knotted chain of glittering silver off the nail protruding from the end.
When he held it up to her and Glenna spied the silver whistle dangling from the end of the chain, her blood ran cold.
“Dominic!” Glenna cried with he surfaced a few yards away from them. “Was this Tara’s?”
Sam held it up and Dominic sliced through the water, grabbing it from him.
Glenna watched his face pale at the recognition. Hooking an arm over the side of the boat, Dominic closed his fist over the chain and his murderous eyes locked on Sam’s. But he froze as a single frightened cry shot out over the water.
Tara! In a single fluid motion, he pulled himself up, out of the water and into the boat. He saw the seals, a black wall of them, gathered around the cave by her beach. He tore the keys from Glenna’s hand and shoved the keys in the ignition.
Glenna raced to the other side, helping Sam climb back into the boat as Dominic slammed down hard on the throttle and they shot off, over the water. Breathing hard, Sam sagged back against the side of the boat, his soaking wet arm hooked through Glenna’s.
“I probably don’t need to tell you this,” Glenna breathed over the scream of the motor. “But if anything happens to her, he will kill you.”
“Great.” Sam lifted his eyes to the sky just as the black clouds raced in, blotting out the sun. “Thanks for the heads up.”
***
Tara woke in the darkness, her cheek pressed into a rock, her shoulder twisted painfully against the cave wall. The ground beneath her was cold and wet. She heard the faint sound of dripping water and the ocean was an echo in her head. Dazed, she tried to sit up.
Cold hands pushed her down.
Tara blinked, disoriented. Her vision blurred, then focused, and when her gaze locked on a pair of brown eyes, the color of belt leather, she let out a small cry. Her palms scraped over the cave floor, reaching for the walls.
She could see the ocean, a silver reflection through the opening of the cave. She could see the seals, bobbing on the surface. She heard them crying, calling out to her. If she could only reach one of them.
She screamed when his hand fisted in her hair.
“What’s the matter, Sydney?” He jerked her head back. “You think if you scream loud enough, someone’s going to rescue you?”
Tara’s fingers groped behind her, reaching into her pocket.
“No one’s going to rescue you, Sydney.” His hand closed around her throat. “You are mine. You belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to you,” she shouted. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
His fist tightened around her throat, shoving her head back against the wall. “Did you think you could run from me, humiliate me, and not pay the consequences?”
Tara pulled her hand out of her pocket, her fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife.
“Did you think you could try to kill me?” Philip raged. “Kill both of us—and get away with it?”
He backhanded her and the pocket knife fell from her hands, clattering to the cave floor.
The blade glittered in the darkness and Philip grabbed for it, but Tara was faster. And in one swift movement, she caught the hilt in her fist and jammed the blade into his thigh.
Philip howled, recoiling, and she twisted out of his reach scrambling for the mouth of the cave.
***
Roses fell from the vines, tumbling to the ground as Kelsey lobbed off the ends with a pair of scissors. Caitlin clawed at the earth with a trowel, ripping up the soil, tearing up the roots. Liam hacked at the thick black stems with a gardening spade, ignoring the thorns digging into his hands.
They dug until their fingers were raw and bleeding, until their arms ached and their clothes were covered in dirt, until the scent of the roses made them weak and they fought to breathe through their mouths, tearing chunks of wet earth from the ground, revealing more and more of the thick, black web of roots.
“How much deeper does this go?” Caitlin cried, stabbing at the thick, knotted roots with her trowel.
“I don’t know,” Kelsey shouted looking up at the thunderheads rolling in off the sea. “But I know it’s here! We have to keep digging!”
Liam shoved the spade deeper into the hole. Roots snapped. Branches toppled under the weight of the giant flowers. He dug deeper, faster, tossing the dirt into a growing pile outside the cottage, until a hollow strike of metal on wood rang out over the cliffs.
“Oh my God,” Caitlin breathed as she and Liam sank to the ground. Together, they reached down and pulled out an ancient wooden box.
“There it is!” Kelsey shouted triumphantly. “I knew it! I knew it would be there!”
Liam worked the tip of his pocket knife into the ancient lock, twisting, and with a final dull click of rusted metal, the lock snapped open.
Together, they lifted the top.
***
Tara ran from the caves, scrambling over the rocks to the beach. If she could just make it to the path, she could call for help. A scream caught in her throat when Philip grabbed her from behind, dragging her back into the water. His hands circled her neck, squeezed. She fought him, digging her nails into his arms. But he squeezed harder, shaking her, shoving her down under the water. Her lungs burned. Black spots formed. Her vision wavered, blurred.
The sea surrounded her, filled her. The ancient notes floated toward her, like a song—the selkie’s song—just like the one she had heard in her dream. She heard the boat motors coming closer, and then the splash and shouting of men, far off. But when the hands slid away from her throat, her arms grew heavy. She tried to kick, but her legs tangled with the dark shapes swimming beside her.
The seals lifted her, pus
hing her back toward the shoreline. Her body hit the sand and she rolled onto her side, choking as the water that only moments ago flowed freely through her lungs turned into a searing, crushing pain.
A rush of darkness tried to pull her under but a thin light wavered far off and she blinked, struggling to focus. The woman—the same woman she’d seen on the cliff the first night—knelt over her, her hands hovering over her heart. Tara’s palms dug into the sand as the she felt the pain slowly subsiding and her strength returning.
The selkie brushed a cool hand over Tara’s brow, whispering words in an ancient tongue that somehow Tara recognized. She stared up into the woman’s face—her face—and saw for the first time a glimmer of hope deep in the selkie’s eyes.
She heard voices shouting from the cliff path, familiar voices calling her name.
“Tara!” Kelsey cried, running across the sand.
The selkie’s gaze locked on the dark bundle clutched in the child’s arms.
“Tara!” Kelsey dropped to her knees, pushing the pelt into Tara’s arms. “We found it!”
Tara’s gaze riveted on the bundle. Barely breathing, she brushed a hand over the oily seal-skin. She saw the swirl of skirts, heard the ocean thundering in her ears. Slowly, she pushed to her feet.
The selkie reached for her skin. Her seal-skin. Her pelt.
Tara felt it slip from her fingers. She gasped as the wind kicked up, sent the sand spinning, a wall of white swirling around them, blinding them. The gulls cawed, circling madly above. The seals barked, frantically, calling out for each other in the sand storm.
Strong arms pulled her back—Dominic’s arms coming around her—drawing her back against his chest. A flash of green shot through the night, illuminating the sand, the seals, the ocean. A soundless shockwave split the air, and they braced, turning their faces away from the punch of energy that tore through the sky.
But there was only silence. And when Tara turned her face back to the sea, her eyes locked on Philip. Her husband was on his knees, his hands bound and cuffed. His wet clothes clung to his body and his eyes were wild and haunted as he stared back at her.
Tara gazed out, into the ocean, where a sleek black head slowly emerged out of the quiet waters. It bobbed, floating on the surface, its black eyes staring back at her. And then it dove, disappearing deep under the waves leaving only a splash, only the faintest ripple in the water.
“She’s home,” Dominic breathed, watching as the rest of the seals gathered around the rocks, as they touched noses, and flipped, somersaulting into the ocean.
Tara reached for Kelsey’s hand, drawing the child toward her, and when Kelsey wrapped her arms around Tara’s waist, Tara closed her eyes and laid her cheek on Dominic’s shoulder. “So am I.”
Chapter 23
On the day of the unveiling, puffy clouds floated overhead like rich dollops of cream. Islanders gathered on the sun-dappled hillside, marveling at the roped-off enclosure marking the future walls of Tara’s medical practice. They’d chosen this plot of land—halfway between Tara’s cottage and the village—so she’d have room to expand if she wanted to one day.
Tara met Caitlin’s eyes over the heads of their neighbors. Caitlin smiled back at her, continuing to explain the design they’d been working on for weeks. At the sudden insistent tugging at her hand, Tara glanced down at Kelsey.
“We need to talk,” Kelsey said taking her father and Tara’s hands and leading them off to the side of the party.
“What is it, Kelsey?” Dominic asked when she let go of their hands and turned around to face them.
Kelsey crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her voice. “I thought you would have asked her by now.”
“Asked her…what?”
Kelsey sighed. “To marry you.”
Dominic let out a choked laugh. “What?”
“I know about the ring, dad. I’ve known about it for weeks.”
“Kelsey—” Tara began.
Fiona O’Sullivan—her gray hair twisted up into a bun—strolled over from the edge of the gathering. “I’d like to hear the answer to this question, myself.” Lifting a brow, she pinned her gaze on her grandson. “I mailed that ring almost two months ago now and you’re still dragging your feet. That’s not like you, Dominic.”
“You’re right,” Dominic said, threading his fingers through Tara’s. “It’s not.”
“Then what’s the hold up?” Fiona asked, putting her hands on her ample hips. “Is there something we should know? Something you’re not telling us?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Okay,” Fiona cocked her head. “Out with it, then.”
Tara squeezed Dominic’s hand. “Well, you know how I wanted to break ground for the new medical practice, first?”
Fiona nodded. “And here we are, breaking ground.”
“And we wanted to wait for the divorce to go through, to be absolutely final.”
“That happened last week, didn’t it?”
Tara nodded, taking a deep breath. “There was really only one other thing we were waiting for.”
“What?”
“A blessing.”
“A blessing?” Fiona looked back and forth between their faces, confused. “From who?”
Tara shifted her gaze to Kelsey’s face. “You.”
“Me?”
Tara nodded. “You told me that day in your room that you didn’t need another mother.”
“I was angry at you for making me stay inside!”
“But I took it seriously.”
“Tara!” Kelsey said, exasperated. “Why didn’t you say something before? I don’t really think that!”
“It’s been an emotional summer. And everything happened so fast. I wanted to give you some time. I wanted you to be sure that this is something you wanted, too.”
“Of course it’s what I want!”
“Your mother’s circumstances are… complicated, Kelsey. But she’s still your mother. And you may decide you want to have some kind of relationship with her one day. I don’t want you to think I’m ever going to replace her.”
“What are you talking about? I want you to replace her.”
“You do?”
“Yes!” Kelsey threw up her hands. “Doesn’t anybody ever have a clue around here besides me?”
“But you said—”
“I said that I didn’t want you to tell me what to do! I said that because I didn’t want to be locked in my room when we needed to find the pelt! Which, by the way,” she added, “was exactly what we needed to be doing and I think both of you should think twice about ever locking me inside again.”
Dominic bit back a laugh. “I promise we won’t lock you in your room until you decide to start dating.”
“Hey!” Kelsey protested as Tara knelt down, cupping her face in her hands.
“Kelsey,” she said, waiting for her eyes to shift back to her face. “You’re really okay with it?”
“Of course!”
“You want us to be engaged?”
“Yes! I want you to be my mother!”
Tara brushed a hand over Kelsey’s curls. “Will you call me that? Will you call me mom?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” Tara nodded. “More than anything.”
“Then fine. I’ll call you mom as soon as you marry my dad.”
Tara smiled. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay,” she said standing and clasping Dominic’s hand tightly in hers. “How about now?”
He grinned down at her. “Seems like as good a time as any. Finn,” he called out to the ferry captain who’d just walked up from the docks to join the party. “How would you like to marry us?”
Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Tara pulled out the gold chain dangling around her neck, holding Fiona’s claddagh ring. “We’ve been engaged for six weeks.”
“What?” Kelsey stared at the ring. “You’re engaged and you didn’t t
ell me?”
Tara’s smile faded. “Are you still okay with it?”
“Yes,” Kelsey sputtered. “But… you can’t get married now!”
“Why not?”
“Cause you’re not even wearing a dress!”
“I don’t want to wear a dress.” Tara glanced down at her white T-shirt and faded jeans. “I want to get married in this.”
“We don’t have a cake! I want to bake one!”
“We can bake one tomorrow. Together.”
“You’re not even holding flowers!”
“Here,” Glenna said, walking up and holding out a bouquet of fresh-picked lavender and hydrangeas to Tara. “Will this do?”
Kelsey stared at the bouquet. “You’re going to get married, right now?”
“Here,” Dominic picked a flower from Tara’s bouquet and tucked it behind his daughter’s ear. “What do want to be? Maid of honor? Bridesmaid? Flower girl?”
“Or maybe all three?” Tara offered, taking Kelsey’s hand in hers and pulling her over to stand beside her. “Finn,” she said, smiling up at the captain. “We’re ready now.”
***
Glenna popped the cork out of a bottle of champagne, surprised at the twinge of envy she felt gazing at the beaming faces of the newlyweds. She sipped the sparkling wine, watching her friends and neighbors circle around them, congratulating them. Lost in her own thoughts, she jumped when a hand settled on the small of her back and a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“Do you think Dominic still wants to kill me?”
Glenna’s mouth fell open as she took in Sam’s tawny eyes and shaggy dark blond hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a peace offering for the happy couple.” He lifted an envelope in his free hand. “Do you think it’s worth a try?”
Her skin tingled where his other hand still rested on the curve of her back and she wondered where that sudden twinge of jealousy had gone. “That depends.”
“On what?”
She glanced down at the envelope. “On what it is.”
He winked and let his hand drift off her back. “You’ll see.”
