Wild Irish Witch

by Tricia O'Malley

  John stiffened and a flush rose on his handsome face. He raked his hand through his thick hair and looked at her sheepishly.

  “My thoughts aren’t exactly pure when it comes to you,” he admitted.

  Now it was Fiona’s turn to blush, and she licked her lips, lust suddenly clouding her thoughts.

  “Pure as in you aren’t here to try to take or abuse any of the magick found here. You won’t defile or litter this space. That you respect it,” Fiona said carefully.

  “Ah, yes. Then in that particular case, my thoughts are pure.”

  Fiona laughed at him. She couldn’t help it. Lust and laughter and light filled her and she turned to the water, holding John’s hand in one of hers. Pulling the quartz from her pocket, she held it high so that the sun caught the facets of the stone, causing it to explode into light.

  “I offer this gift to the waters of the cove where the blood of my blood lies. We come here to celebrate joy and to share truths. No harm will be brought to the cove, nor is any intended.”

  Fiona launched the quartz into the water and they watched it sparkle its way through the air before landing with a little plop! in the water.

  “Now what?” John whispered from the side of his mouth.

  “Now we’re free to go,” Fiona said playfully, and launched herself from the circle, running across the beach, the sand warm at her feet. The sun hung low― a glowing orange bulb, hovering above the misty spot where the sky and the ocean blended to one. Its rays pierced the opening of the cove, bathing the beach in its golden light, freeze-framing the moment for Fiona as she laughed her way across the sand, John racing after her.

  He caught her in joy, picking her up once again to spin around in delight. As his lips settled upon hers, Fiona felt the press of magick against her skin, and then the low hum of enchantment ripple against their bodies. Pulling away from his lips, she stayed pressed close to him and simply turned her head so that her cheek rested against the chambray of his shirt, her face turned towards the water.

  “John― look,” Fiona said softly, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist. She felt the moment he saw it― his entire body stiffened and he instinctively tightened his arms around Fiona to protect her. The reaction charmed her. There was something incredibly soothing about being held by someone who loved you and wanted to protect you.

  “What’s happening? Did the ritual not work?” John breathed into her hair.

  “Oh, it worked,” Fiona said softly, marveling at the beauty of what lay before them.

  Brilliant blue light shined from the depth of the cove, seeming to illuminate every dip of the sand beneath the surface― every craggy rock and coral outcropping. The blue light shot high into the sky mixing with the golden rays of the sun and creating a beautiful rainbow effect of light that bathed the rocky cliffs that clambered over their heads.

  “I don’t understand,” John whispered.

  “It’s said that the cove shines like this in the presence of love,” Fiona said softly, blinking back the tears that threatened. She’d never seen something as beautiful as this in her whole life. Whoever said magick was scary had never witnessed something as benevolent and loving as the spectacle before them.

  Fiona stepped back, distancing herself from John, forcing him to look at her. She stood with her back to the cove, so that the light surrounded her, and met his eyes.

  “This is me, John. I come from this bloodline. Grace O’Malley is buried here. I have her blood in me. Which means I am magick. Completely and totally magick. I can heal people with my hands. I can read people’s feelings. Every once in a while I catch glimpses of people’s thoughts. I can perform rituals, create healing tonics, and work my magick into creams and lotions to help people feel more beautiful. I don’t know if it comes from God or not, but the intent and the essence of what I am is to always help― never harm.”

  Fiona drew in a deep breath, her entire body shuddered from the effort it took to tear down the wall hiding what she was― to show herself completely to John. It was as though she held her heart out in her hands to him and waited to see if he would accept it or not.

  John took a deep breath and she watched him as he considered her words. Fiona had to admit that she admired a man who thought things through before reacting. She couldn’t always say the same for herself.

  “I’m honored that you would share this part of yourself with me. My words stand, Fiona. I love you― all of you. The magick part, the woman part, and the kind-hearted person who has pledged her life to help others. Not only am I honored that you would share this with me― I’d be honored to have you as a partner for so long as I am with you. At least in this world.”

  There were those words again. About being loved for so long as he would be with her in this world. What did he mean by them? She wanted to ask, but couldn’t, as he was sweeping her into his arms and pressing his lips to hers.

  In moments, the thought drifted from her mind as another, more urgent need filled her.

  Fiona closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept under.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I think the cove must be an aphrodisiac,” Keelin said, her voice cutting through Fiona’s story.

  Margaret barked out a laugh, and then immediately blushed.

  “Don’t I know what you and Sean were doing down there all those years back,” Fiona said, leveling a look at Margaret.

  “You too? Jeez, Mom,” Keelin said, raising her eyebrows at her mother.

  “I think we can all agree that as women, we have loved and been loved in our lives. Let’s just leave it at that,” Fiona said brightly.

  “Yes, let’s,” Margaret said, hurriedly.

  “Let’s refresh our drinks. I need some water if I am going to nurse the princess here shortly. And we should have more pie. I don’t think I’m going to like the next part of this story, which means I want comfort food,” Keelin decided, getting up from the couch and stretching. She ambled across the room to pull the poker from the side of the fireplace, nudging the embers until sparks flew, and tossed a few more logs on. Crouching, she blew on the embers softly until flames licked up, surrounding the wood.

  A cry pierced the silence.

  “Ah, that’s about right. The princess calls,” Keelin said with a sigh, even though a smile was on her face.

  “Bring her down, she’ll like the fire,” Fiona said, waving at Keelin.

  “I’ll get the water and pie,” Margaret said, standing up to stretch.

  “I can help,” Fiona began and Margaret waved at her.

  “Stay. I don’t think I’m going to like the next part of the story either. It’s going to take a toll on you to tell it. I’ll bring refreshments.” Even as she spoke, Margaret picked up the whiskey bottle and poured another splash into her mother’s cup. Pausing, she leaned over to press her lips against Fiona’s cheek.

  “I love you.”

  Fiona held onto those words as Margaret left the room, staring at one of the flames that sparked higher than the others in the fire, its core a beautiful blue.

  Much like the waters of the cove that day.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Fiona didn’t want to leave him that night.

  They stood outside her cottage, stealing kisses in the moonlight, over the moon in love and lust with each other. He’d shown her the physical act of love that day on the beach and yet there was so much more to it than just his touch. It was as though his very essence seemed to power over her and through her, intermingling with hers, weaving his DNA with her DNA, forever knitted together.

  Fiona knew that in this life she would never love another. The certainty was as simple as the next breath she took.

  “Must we wait? To be married?” Fiona asked, pressing her hand to his cheek as they stood in the courtyard of her cottage.

  “Since we aren’t being married in the church, I see no reason to wait,” John said with a smile.

  “Though we should probably give our mothers a little tim
e to plan,” Fiona said sheepishly.

  “One month. That way they can’t get too carried away, but enough for you to find a pretty dress that you’ll wear just for me,” John said, his eyes alight with love.

  “One month,” Fiona said, giddiness racing through her. She smoothed back the hairstyle that she had unsuccessfully tried to recreate in the truck on the way back to her house. She was hoping to sneak in past her mother’s eyes and fix herself before Bridget got a look at her disheveled appearance.

  “One month. And you’ll be an O’Brien. Try not to let my mother steamroll you in the planning process,” John said against her lips before pulling away. Watching him walk away was like watching a part of her soul separate from her and she was surprised by how intimately attached to him she had grown already.

  Fiona clutched her hands to her chest for a moment, savoring the ripe feeling of fresh love to herself, knowing their love would grow and change in time. But right now― in this moment? It was so fresh and wonderful that it was almost painful. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she quietly eased the door to the cottage open.

  Bridget sat in the far corner in her rocking chair, a ball of yarn on her lap, her two knitting needles clicking away. The soft light from the peat fireplace played over her face, hiding her wrinkles and, for a moment, making her look like just a girl.

  “Mother. You’re still up. Is Father home?”

  “He’s at the pub as expected. Drinking many a congratulatory pint.” Bridget shrugged and Fiona immediately felt bad for her, sitting alone in the near darkness. She hoped her mother would one day tell her of her own love story.

  Fiona crossed the room and took the chair across from her mother, smoothing her hair back from her face and pasting what she hoped was a not-guilty look upon her face.

  “You took John to the cove then,” Bridget said, her eyes on Fiona.

  “I did. The light shone again. You were right,” Fiona said softly.

  “Aye, I’m glad for you then. You should never settle for less than your heart’s desire,” Bridget said, almost bitterly.

  “We’re to be married. Within a month. We’d like to do a handfasting― we won’t be married in the church,” Fiona said.

  “Aye, for that I can say thank you. You’re more than the restrictions of the church. Your love should shine with the magick of nature― free and in the light of the sun. I think it’s a perfect choice for you,” Bridget said, her face brightening at her daughter’s happiness.

  “Do you? I was worried, but John’s family seemed to take it in stride,” Fiona said, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. She couldn’t help but glance around at the small cottage interior, a far cry from the much grander front room of the O’Brien’s house.

  “Don’t you let that Celeste try to run things with her ideas. This is your wedding.” Bridget humpfed as she started a new line in her knitting.

  “I won’t. She didn’t seem very keen on us marrying. But by the end of our conversation it seemed like she had warmed up to the idea.”

  “O’Briens are known to be stubborn. Well, I suppose all of us Irish are, aren’t we? She probably knows John’s made up his mind about you. Either she can fight it and lose her son or accept it and be a part of your family.”

  Fiona shivered at her words. It just seemed like the universe kept nudging her about losing John in the future.

  “Something weird happened today,” Fiona began.

  Bridget kept her eyes on the needles as they clicked away.

  “Was that before or after you gave yourself to this man?”

  Fiona coughed, embarrassment racing through her as heat crept up her cheeks. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly aware of all of the now-sensitive spots John had touched earlier in the day.

  “Um, that would be before,” Fiona mumbled.

  Bridget laughed and gestured for her to continue.

  “Love is love. Go on.”

  “It was so strange… we were walking down the path and all of a sudden I looked at John and I could see through him. It was like he shimmered in the light and then became transparent. I can’t help but feel that the cove was warning me of something in my future,” Fiona blurted, desperate to have someone else’s take on what she had seen that day.

  The knitting needles dropped to Bridget’s lap.

  Fiona looked up from where she clenched her hands in her lap, meeting Bridget’s now-worried eyes in the dim light of the room.

  “He’ll be taken from you,” Bridget said succinctly.

  A cavern seemed to open up beneath Fiona and she felt as though she were falling― falling into the darkness of a despair that she didn’t even know yet.

  “How am I supposed to love him― marry him if I am to believe that to be true?” Fiona said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully, doing her best to hold onto her control.

  “Because the cove is giving you a gift of knowing. You’ll get to love― ferociously and wholeheartedly― more than most do in their entire lives. But not for always. So do you take a chance on loving from the depth of your being for however long you are given? Or do you turn your back on true love and take a safer option?”

  Fiona knew her mother spoke of herself.

  “What did you do?”

  “I turned my back. I can’t complain about my life― and I got you from the deal. But I’ve lived without true love. Your life seems to fade into shades of grey when you live like that. I’d would rather you loved to every inch and molecule of your being― for however long you are given― than to settle for the safe route,” Bridget said, her expression both serious and sad at the same time.

  Bridget’s words were like little knives to Fiona’s gut, slicing through her bubble of happiness.

  “But how can I truly be happy? Truly love this person? If I know he is to be taken from me?” Fiona whispered.

  “You hold on to every moment with your whole heart. Your life will be richer for it, as you won’t take each other for granted. It will be the best kind of love― and perhaps it will be enough to sustain you for your whole life. But in the end, we will all experience loss at some point in our lives. If you live your life thinking you can control fate, well, you’re fooling yourself.”

  “So that’s it then? Go into this knowing I will lose him?”

  Bridget looked at her, her eyes serious.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then give him the best of yourself so long as you are together. It’s all you can do,” Bridget shrugged.

  “I swear it’s like he knows. The way he phrases things… he keeps talking about loving each other in this life and the next,” Fiona said, clenching her hands together in her lap.

  “He might know. If he’s an old soul― he may understand that his time here is limited. One day he’ll step through the veil into the otherworld. We all will.”

  Fiona rose. She’d reached her limit of emotions for the day― from fear to love and back to fear again. It was almost too much to take.

  “I’m exhausted. This day has been so emotionally packed I’m not sure what to do or where to put all these thoughts and feelings,” Fiona admitted.

  Bridget stood and put her needles to the side, coming forward to kiss her daughter’s cheek.

  “Sometimes the best days are like that. Sleep well, and know that you have a love most people will never get to experience. We’ll go into the next town over tomorrow and find you a pretty dress. Take this one day at a time, my love.”

  Fiona tried to feel happiness at the thought of buying a dress tomorrow.

  But all she could think about were her mother’s words.

  One day at a time.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The weeks that followed John’s proposal were a blur.

  Fiona didn’t even have time to make it back to her beloved hills. Between planning for a wedding and her sudden notoriety as a healer, her time was no longer her own.

&nbs
p; John had been busy as well, planning a surprise for her that he refused to talk about. He was careful to think of other things when she was around, so Fiona couldn’t even pluck the thoughts from his brain.

  She’d pushed her worry about John to the side, and instead focused on planning their big day. It hadn’t started out as a big day, actually, but as word spread that there was to be a handfasting, the entire village seemed to want to go.

  There wasn’t a day that could go by when Fiona walked the village but that people wanted to know if they were invited to the wedding. Finally, Fiona had thrown her hands up and left the invitations to Celeste and her mother― who seemed to be taking to each other just fine now that they had a shared goal of putting on a party.

  Fiona sighed as she stopped by Dr. Collins’ medical practice. They’d been working together on a few of the harder cases plaguing Grace’s Cove, and Fiona found that she really enjoyed the work. Even though some people still crossed the street and made the sign of the cross when she walked past, there were many others who were willing to take her help.

  There’d even been a night or two where Bridget had awakened her because of a knock at the door from a fearful mother or husband, and she had dressed and slipped into the night to assist in whatever way she could. She’d be lying if it didn’t make her feel good― at least to be able to help and to be needed.

  But Fiona was already worried she would get a bit of a God complex if she didn’t keep herself in check. She needed to talk to her mother more about this, because she could see how easy it would be to get an ego or think she was omniscient.

  And Fiona knew, deep down, that no matter what power she had to help, fate and destiny were the true masters. She was but a conduit― a tool, if anything.

  Sighing, Fiona shook her head as she walked up the street, smiling at various people, and ignoring the ones who hurried across the street from her. She’d taken note of those who refused to speak to her and made sure Celeste and Bridget knew not to invite those families to her wedding. The last thing she needed was people judging her or wishing her ill-will at her own wedding.