She turned away from the window. Well, she thought, there was only one way to find out. She’d find Derry and confront him about it. What was the worst he could think of her? That she was as crazy as the town thought Mary to be? Then a thought occurred to her, and she paused in the act of pouring water into the teakettle. What if, a little voice whispered from some dark comer of her mind, what if he’s not exactly what he appears to be at all?
The noon sun shone through the trees, even though the air that stirred the leaves was chilly. Katie shivered despite her thick wool sweater. If today were any indication, she’d be building a fire by the weekend. She pushed through the trees and emerged into the clearing. She tucked her hands securely into the pockets of her jeans. All around her, the Stones rose like silent sentries. Out of habit, she peered curiously at the writing on the closest one. It meant no more to her today than it had on any of the other occasions she’d examined it. She peered around all the Stones. She was alone.
There was no sign of Derry. She walked around the perimeter, slowly, pacing, pausing now and then to peer at the Stones, gazing from left to right, not certain what she expected to find. A flash of red on the ground by one of the biggest trees surrounding the clearing caught her eye. She hurried over to see what it was.
She reached down and tugged on the fabric, and to her astonishment, a dark green backpack fell out of a hollow of the tree. She peered inside. The fabric was the sleeve of a navy windbreaker with a red stripe—a windbreaker just like the one Derry had been wearing the other morning. She rummaged through the backpack. Inside, she found the white T-shirt, navy shorts, and faded running shoes he’d been wearing as well. She stared at the clothes. What did this mean? Was he camping here in the woods? She glanced in every direction, but there was no sign of a fire, or anything else that might be a sign of human habitation. She stuffed the clothes back inside the backpack and shoved it into the hollow of the tree. She glanced at her watch. She had about fifteen minutes before she had to leave for the college if she was going to be early for her afternoon class. She really hadn’t had the time to come home, but she’d been so eager to find Derry…
She rose to her feet and brushed off her jeans. It didn’t matter whether she was few minutes early or not. She was going to call Mary Monahan and try to get to the bottom of this. There was too much about all this that was beginning to seem very strange.
Once inside, she dialed Mary’s number on the old-fashioned phone with a trembling finger. She drew a deep breath to steady her nerves, and caught the scent of bay rum. She swirled around, half expecting to see Derry standing beside her, but the room was empty.
Mary answered on the third ring.
“You have to tell me the truth,” Katie said, without further greeting.
“The truth?” Mary echoed. “About what?”
“Derry. “ There was a silence on the other end of the line. “I know you told me he was harmless, Mary, and I believe you, but there are too many strange things going on, and since you know him so well, you have to tell me the truth.”
“He is harmless,” said Mary. “I’ve never known him to hurt a soul.”
“And how long have you known him?” Katie demanded. “I don’t mean to sound paranoid, but you’ve got to understand that I’m out here all by myself. I need to know why you trust him.”
“Well, quite a long time, really,” Mary said faintly.
“Five years? Ten? Where did you meet him?”
“I—uh—I met him right on the beach. Practically where you and I met.”
“That can’t be true,” said Katie, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice. “He told me himself this was his first visit to the States. How long have you known him?”
“About—well—more than 20 years.”
“More than 20 years? You’ve known him since he was a boy?”
“Katie,” Mary spoke firmly, calmly. “If there are things you want to know about Derry, I think you should ask him yourself.”
“I found his clothes behind a tree out in the woods just now. What are they doing there? Is he camping out or something?”
“Ask him.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because he asked me to keep certain things in confidence, and I don’t want to violate his trust. But I’m sure if you ask him, he’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Maybe you can tell him I’d like to talk to him.” Katie glanced at her watch. It was time to go.
“Sure,” said Mary. “I’ll be happy to. But don’t be surprised if you see him before I do.”
Nothing’s would surprise me any more, Katie thought. “I’m sorry to sound as if I doubt you, Mary. I don’t mean to.”
“I’m not offended. But if there’s something you want to know about Derry, you have to ask him yourself. I hope you understand.”
“I think I do,” said Katie.
“Why don’t you talk to him, and call me back afterward if you want to talk? If you have questions.”
“All right, I will.” Katie replaced the receiver slowly. But all afternoon—driving to school, teaching, checking in the office for her mail, and driving home—she wondered again and again what Derry could tell her that she’d need to talk about with Mary.
• • •
“You know she’s on to you.” Mary leaned against the Stones. Derry paced like a caged lion within the perimeter of the Stones. He wore a heavy cable-knit sweater she’d brought him over his ragged clothes. His feet were still bare.
“I never expected she’d go looking for the clothes.”
“You didn’t put them away very carefully.”
“I did! Some animal must have got to them.” He stopped the pacing and sighed. “Now what?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“How can I do that? She’ll think I’m mad.”
“She’s beginning to think you’re a liar. Mad is better than that, at least.” Mary cocked her head. He was so damn good-looking. The faintest haze of a beard darkened his chin, and his eyes were bluer than the sky, if such a thing were possible. “And besides, you are a ghost. You can prove that.”
He groaned. “So she’ll think she’s crazy.”
Mary shrugged. “Maybe initially. But she strikes me as being fairly levelheaded. And she doesn’t rush to judgment. I think she’ll surprise you.”
“I think she’s likely to move out of Pond House and never come back again.” His lips tightened into a thin line.
“Derry, maybe there’s a way.”
“A way to what?”
“Release you.” Mary rose to her feet. “I’ve been doing some reading. I think there might be a way to interrupt the field or the energy lines long enough to release your spirit. Why don’t you let me look into this? I have some friends who might be able to—”
“Mary, it’s not about that.” He gave her a look of such raw, savage pain, her heart clenched in her chest. “You know that. I think this woman is Caitlin come back to me. And I won’t be losing her again, do you hear me? I can’t. I’ve spent two hundred years in this…this limbo. This hell. And now, there’s finally a chance of being reunited with her—” He broke off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t expect you to understand, but I can’t bear to think of leaving here and going into some great beyond without her.”
“I do understand,” Mary said quietly. She pulled her jacket closer, even though the sun was warm across her shoulders. “I think you need to tell Katie the truth, Derry. A lie isn’t going to reunite you with her. A lie isn’t going to make things easier. The truth might be hard to face for both of you, but in the end it’s the only way.” She shrugged. “I’ve given you my best advice.”
“And I thank you for it, Mary.” A look of regret crossed his face. “I am sorry, you know.”
She shook her head. “No more apologies, Derry. And no more lies, okay?” She gave him a crooked smile and escaped into the trees before he could reply.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Katie stepped into the clearing, her flashlight clutched in one hand, her heart pounding in her chest. Even though it was nearly six o’clock in the evening and the daylight wasn’t going to last, she wanted to try and talk to Derry before he invaded her dreams again.
She stood quietly in the center of the Stones, not certain what to do. Finally she lifted her head and spoke aloud. “Derry? Hello? Are you around?”
She waited. Almost immediately, as if in answer, he stepped from behind the Stones. “Hello, Katie Coyle,” he said in his wonderfully soft brogue. “I’m very pleased to see you again.”
She eyed him up and down. He was wearing black pants that ended at his knees in a ragged hem, and a thick Aran sweater of creamy white wool. His feet were bare. “Hello, Derry.”
He didn’t reply.
“Aren’t your feet cold?” she blurted, finally.
He glanced down, as if surprised to see them. “Perhaps a bit,” he said. “But I don’t really notice.”
There was something double-edged about that remark, something that struck her the same way the things he’d said in the dream did, but he said nothing more and he seemed to be waiting for her to continue. She hesitated for just a moment, drew a deep breath and plunged in. “I found some of your clothes over there,” she said. “And I wondered—well, I guess I wondered what they were doing there. Are you camping out here? I asked Mary to tell me what was going on, and she said I should talk to you. She said she wasn’t at liberty to violate a trust. And I don’t mean to pry, but I do live on this property, and I feel I have a right to know if you’ve been camping out in these woods.”
He waited a few minutes after she finished speaking. He seemed to be considering. “You’re right,” he said at last. “You do have the right to know what’s going on here. I’ll try to explain the truth as best I can. Perhaps you’d like to sit down?” With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the mossy ground.
She sank down beside one of the Stones and leaned against it. He began to pace.
“What is it?’ she asked. “Are you in some sort of trouble? Are there people looking for you?”
“Well, the short answer to that is yes, I’m in trouble, you could say. But no one’s going to come looking for me. No one’s come looking for me in a very long time.”
The phrase reverberated, an echo from the dream. “You said that last night,” she said, without thinking. “In the dream, that’s almost exactly what you said—” She broke off. Who was crazier here—him or her?
“You aren’t crazy, Katie Coyle.” He squatted down beside her and picked up her hand. His touch was smooth and cool. “But what I’m going to tell you will sound bizarre. I only ask you to listen to the whole story before you run away. Is that fair?”
“I—I suppose so.” She gently withdrew her hand and sidled a little further away.
He made no attempt to touch her. He rocked back and settled on the ground, his back against a Stone and his feet flat before him. “My real name is Diarmuid O’Riordan. I was born in my father’s Dublin town house in the year of grace 1769.”
Katie gasped, but he held up his hand. “You promised. “ She tightened her grip on the flashlight. The shadows were lengthening all around them and the whole atmosphere seemed charge with an incipient kind of energy.
“Go on,” she managed.
“My father was the ninth Earl of Kilmartin. And I was his firstborn son. When I was eight, my mother gave birth to another son, my brother Timothy. But by that time, I’d been sent to school in England.” He took a deep breath and looked away. “Those were troubled times in Ireland.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to tell you that. My brother fell in with a crowd of rebels who wanted to sever all ties to the English throne, and establish Ireland as a separate, independent nation. They had some support from the French, but—” He broke off once more. “I tried to stay out of it. 1 didn’t really care about their rhetoric. It seemed to me that one government was likely to be as good or as bad as the one before it. I lived mostly in London. We were very wealthy, you see, and my life was…easy.”
He stared into the twilight. “And then my father died. I came back to Ireland and found my brother to be heavily embroiled in plots and plans and revolutions. At first I thought he was a young, headstrong, heedless boy. And then I came to see that he believed in everything he spoke of, and that perhaps Ireland and her people would indeed be better off without the yoke of England.”
Katie leaned forward, listening intently. His face in the shadows was haunted and drawn, and his voice had the weight of years.
“Well, things fell apart. Someone—I won’t go into it now—someone betrayed us all. Tim was arrested and sentenced to hard labor in Australia. But my years in England stood me in good stead—I had friends, you see, in very high places. I was given a Crown pardon. But I couldn’t save Tim. He had a wife, and a child. And another on the way. And he was sickly. There was little doubt in my mind that if Tim got on that boat to Australia he’d die on the way there, and never come home again. So I took his place.”
“You did what?” Katie whispered.
Derry laughed without humor. “I thought I’d lost the woman I loved. Life didn’t mean much to me, then. Oh, I had my life, but it didn’t matter. Most of my estates were forfeit. I felt as though I’d lost everything, and I couldn’t bear to see my brother and his family tom apart. So I took his place.”
“But you never got to Australia.”
“No. Great storms blew the ship off course, further and further west, and finally we were wrecked here…right here, on that beach. In that water.” He raised his hand and pointed. “I managed to drag myself out of the water and onto the beach. I was halfway up the path, but it was cold that night. So cold. And there was no one to hear.”
“And so you’re telling me you died?” Katie leaned forward. “Are you telling me you’re the ghost of Pond House? It’s you calling in the night?”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Indeed, Katie Coyle. That’s exactly what I’m telling you. The voice you hear is mine—though it’s only an echo from the distant past. There’s something about this place that traps energy, all sorts of energy, something about the way the ponds and the water and streams all converge. And here, in the center of the Stones, is the place where it all converges. This is where the power is centered. And this is where I can take on a human shape once more, and be as real as you are.”
Katie leaned back against the Stone, scarcely daring to believe what she heard. “I—uh—I hope you’ll forgive me if I say I find all this hard to believe.”
He shrugged. “I’ve found it hard to believe for the past two hundred years.”
She leaned forward, searching his face in the falling dusk. There was no doubt in her mind he believed that what he was telling her was the truth. “You say you can’t go beyond the Stones? But I’ve seen you in the woods, on the beach—”
“There’s a circumference of about one hundred yards in all directions where the energy field is sufficient to sustain my physical form. But once I step beyond it, I just…disappear.”
Katie blinked. “So you can move beyond the circle?”
“Yes. But not in my body. Beyond a certain radius, I’m invisible.”
“I see.” She wet her lips. “Can you disappear now?”
“Here?”
“Yes.” Their eyes met and held, and a shiver went down Katie’s spine. Ghost or no, there was something about this man that touched her in some place no one else had ever reached. He looked so tall and strong, but there was an aching vulnerability about his mouth, and in the twilight his eyes were sad.
For an answer, he whipped off the sweater and handed it to her. “Hold this.” She had just enough time to notice the ragged shirt beneath the sweater when, in a twinkling, he was gone.
She gasped. “Derry!” She clutched the sweater, and the odor of bay rum rose from the heavy fabric. “Derry?” She peered around the Stones in all directions.
&nbs
p; “I’m here.”
She whipped her head back and there he was, in much the same position as when he’d vanished. “My God. It’s true.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Yes.”
“Why—why did you tell me you were staying with Mary? I…I…” Even as she spoke, she knew the answer.
“What could I tell you? Hello, Miss Coyle. I’m a ghost. Don’t worry, I won’t harm you. I’m just—how is it said now—hanging out here in the woods. You’ll see me from time to time, but think nothing of it.”
She giggled in spite of herself. The situation was so absurd. She shivered a little as a cool breeze swept through the clearing. “Oh, here.” She handed him back his sweater.
“The clothes disappear when I do, you see.”
“Ah.” She raised her eyebrows and rocked back, wrapping her arms around her knees. It was getting chilly. And dark. She switched on the flashlight and pointed it to the sky. “You can’t come back to the house, can you?”
“Not like this, no. If you’re cold, and need to go, I understand.”
“No, I’m all right. I’ll have to go in a bit, but there’s still something I want to ask you. About the dreams.”
He looked down. “Forgive me. I…I…”
“You can do that?”
“Not always. There’s only a few times in the night when your mind is open and receptive. But, you see, Katie Coyle, there’s something else about you that I haven’t told you. You look just like Caitlin—Caitlin Malley. “
“And she was…?”
A smile swept across his face, a smile of such regret and pure longing that she felt a pang in her chest. “She was the bravest, sweetest, kindest, most loving woman I could ever imagine. I thought they killed her, you see. I thought she was lost. ’Tis another reason I volunteered to switch with Tim. But when I boarded that cursed ship, I saw her on another, and she was swollen with child. And I knew it was mine. We were bound for the same place, you see, and I had such hopes, even in that hellhole they called a ship, that in the end we’d be reunited and we’d make our way back home. But it didn’t turn out that way,” he finished with a bitter twist to his mouth.
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