Wild Irish Heart (The Mystic Cove Series Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

At the base
of the path to the cove, Keelin stopped. Here was where she would traditionally say a small prayer and give an offering. Bending over, she unstrapped her sandals and kicked them aside. Keelin walked briskly to the edge of the water and let the waves lap over her feet. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a small knife. Without hesitation, she used the sharp blade to slice a small cut into her palm. Clenching her fist, she held her hand over the water. A small rivulet of blood squeezed from the cut in her hand. She watched, hypnotized, as the blood hit the water in small drops of red, quickly dissipating.

"Yesterday, I almost gave my life because I refused to fully accept myself. I come here today to step into my birthright. I offer my blood to the cove, as a descendent of Grace O'Malley, as a promise to both myself and to her. I promise to protect the cove and I promise to never stand ashamed of what I am." Keelin squeezed extra hard and a long rivulet of blood dripped into the cove. A crack like a lightening bolt hit the water and for an instant it glowed a bright white. Keelin felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She knew Flynn was behind her.

Slowly, she turned, her hand still bloody.

Flynn stood at the end of the path, his hands tucked loosely into his pants pockets. A chambray shirt hung loose on him and dark circles marred his eyes. His shoulders were hunched. He eyed her, clearly on guard.

Keelin felt her heart clench. She slowly walked to him, her bleeding hand in front of her.

"Jesus, Keelin. What did you do?" Flynn automatically stepped forward to take her hand. She stepped back quickly and evaded his reach.

"No. Watch." Flynn eyed her warily as she opened her palm to reveal the long slice across her skin. She heard his small intake of breath as he realized that she had done this to herself. Keelin met his eyes. She looked down at her bloody hand and covered it with her other. She closed her eyes briefly and focused on the pain and sent her light down to heal it. The amulet warmed against her chest. Feeling the light gather, she sent the ball of pain into a small bush nearby. Slowly, Keelin opened her eyes to look at Flynn. She held both palms open, her pretty skin free of cuts. Flynn took a step back, anger on his face.

"I won't deal with witches, Keelin. I'm sorry, but I just won't," Flynn said angrily. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a storm of emotions in his eyes.

"This is me, Flynn. This is all of me. I can heal people with my hands. I'm not a witch. I'm a descendent of Grace O'Malley." Keelin spoke quietly but proudly. The amulet at her neck began to grow warmer.

"I don't understand. I mean, I know that Fiona heals people with herbs and whatnot, but this? This hand stuff? It's crazy." Flynn dragged a hand through his hair.

"It is crazy. I wish that I could explain it to you any more than I can understand it myself. I don't know how it works, I just know that I can do it. I've run from this gift my entire life and it wasn't until I came here that I realized running was futile. This is me. All of me." Keelin stared at him as her stomach turned. "I'm…I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I am just getting used to it myself. And, I was scared you would hate me. Which you do anyway," she said morosely as she put her hands down by her sides.

"I don't…I don't hate you. But, Jesus, Keelin. I was dying. I felt it! Blood was everywhere! And I sat there and watched you knit my bone back together. You put my artery back together! I could walk. It was terrifying! I didn't even know who you were at that point or what was happening. And then all of a sudden, you're dying on me!" Flynn was shouting at this point and pacing the beach. His shouts echoed off the rocky walls of the cove. Anger flashed through Keelin. Vaguely, Keelin registered a small rumble and saw the waves beginning to pick up.

"Well, I'm just so sorry. Was I supposed to leave you there to die? I'm sorry that you can't handle this but maybe you could, oh I don’t know, thank me for saving your stubborn life? Had you not been so damn angry at me I would have been able to complete the healing and send the energy elsewhere. Instead I took it into me because you…you broke my heart." On a sob, Keelin turned and ran from Flynn. She was stupid to come here with him. He would never accept her for what she was.

Keelin let out a whoosh of breath as she was tackled from behind and flipped over. "Ooof!" she shrieked out as she landed on top of Flynn. He had turned to cushion her from the fall. Quickly, he rolled and pinned her underneath him.

"What do you mean that I broke your heart?" Flynn demanded.

"Nothing. I meant nothing. You are just a big jerk and I don't need someone like that in my life." Keelin avoided his eyes and stuck her chin out. Small fissures of heat curled through her where their bodies touched and she tried not to squirm under him. Keelin gasped as a huge wave crashed over them and shocked their bodies. Flynn sputtered out salt water and stared, aghast, at the beach. The shoreline was too far for a wave to have hit them.

"What the heck was that?" Flynn demanded. "Did you do that?"

"Of course I didn't do that, you punk. I told you that I'm not a witch. The cove is mad at me is all. Probably you too. You should go," Keelin said spitefully. Another wave slammed into them both and they rolled from the impact. "Damn it. Fine!" Keelin shouted as she found herself pinned under Flynn again, soaking wet, her body wide awake.

"You broke my heart because I love you. I have no idea how or when but I do. And when you stared at me like…like I was some kind of monster I froze and forgot to heal the way that I was taught by Fiona. No big deal. It's fine. I can get over this. But I refuse to apologize for what I am. If there is anything that I have learned from this it is that you have to love me for me or not at all," Keelin spit out, and then stuck her chin in the air. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she shivered at the heat that was building in her most sensitive of spots.

"Damn it, Keelin. You died. I watched you die. I just, it was too much. I couldn't wrap my head around what happened and then you just…you died. I was terrified." Flynn brought his forehead to hers. Keelin's heart hiccupped. Hope slid into her stomach.

"You left me. I came to and you just left," Keelin whispered. She felt tears prick her eyes. "You hurt me," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left. I didn't sleep at all last night. I planned to come today to apologize. It doesn't matter what you are, Keelin. You're heart is pure as gold. So is Fiona's. I could never look at what the both of you are and hate you. I love you. All of you. Every last stubborn bit." Flynn raised his eyes to hers as Keelin felt her whole body flare with a flash of heat.

"You do? You really do?" Keelin felt the heat rush over her in a wave and she began to cry thick, fat tears, and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

"Yes, you difficult, strong, beautiful woman. I fell for you the moment that I saw you. I want you as much as I want my next breath." Flynn captured her mouth with his and swallowed Keelin's sobs. Her body shuddered with emotion as her heart sang. She heard a loud crack and pulled back to stare at the cove. It glowed a brilliant blue and a small flash of white light beamed from a cave far out in the rocky wall of the cove. Almost indecipherable from the other rocks, Keelin would never have seen the small tunnel.

"Flynn! Look!" He turned and she felt his body go rigid at the image of the gently pulsing light that emanated from the cove and the cave.

"What…what is it?" Flynn said warily. He shifted to protect her.

"No, it's okay. It's said that the cove glows in the presence of true love. And, that tunnel must be where the chalice is. The cove is showing us her secrets. It trusts us." Keelin smiled at the cove and silently thanked Grace for the gift. She would be sure to honor it.

Flynn shook his head ruefully as the glow in the water subsided. He smiled a crooked smile down at her and Keelin's eyes pricked at how close she had come to losing this man.

"So, are our kids going be witches too?"

Keelin laughed at him and smacked him on the arm before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Slowly, they lost themselves in each other. Excited barks broke through the fog around them and they were bombarded with puppy licks. Keelin giggled and Flynn helped her to her feet. Together, they pet their dogs and wrapped their arms around each other as they began the hike up out of the cove. Keelin glanced back to see the sun dipping on the horizon and a pale sliver of moon beginning to shine in the sky. She nodded silently at the cove and grasped her amulet as it pulsed gently against her heart.

It seemed that she got to live after all.

Epilogue

Keelin grasped the
phone tightly in her hands and stared out across the fields towards the cove.

"Keelin, is that you?" Margaret's voice sounded tiny across the airwaves.

"It is, I'm here, Mom," Keelin said, and reached down to scratch Ronan's head.

"I haven't heard from you in almost two weeks. I was about to send out the guards," Margaret said stiffly.

"I know, I'm so sorry that I worried you, Mom. A lot has been going on." Keelin wondered where to begin. It wouldn't be right to attack her mother about Colin and Aislinn and she wasn't sure just how much she wanted to get into her newfound healing powers. She already knew how Margaret felt about those. With a sigh, she focused on the blue waters of the cove.

"You're staying, aren't you?" Margaret said. Keelin held the phone away from her face and stared at it in awe.

"Yes, I am. I…I need to be here, Mom."

Silence greeted her for a moment. Keelin heard her mother sigh.

"How's Fiona?"

"She's good, she needs me though. She's all alone here," Keelin said.

"But what about me? I'll be all alone here," Margaret said plaintively.

"No you won't. You have more friends than I do. You can always come back, you know," Keelin said.

"No, I don't suppose that I can," Margaret said definitively.

"Well, I hope that you will soon," Keelin said as she grinned down at the sparkling ring on her finger. Glancing up, she saw her new life walking over the fields to her, the dogs yipping at his feet. "I've met someone."

"Well, a summer fling certainly isn't worthy of me flying across the pond to Ireland, Keelin Grainne," Margaret said.

"Mom. He's it. He's everything," Keelin whispered.

Silence greeted her again and Keelin felt her heart drop in her chest. Maybe she was asking too much of her mother.

"Well, then, of course I will come. No man will ever live up to my daughter, but I will have to at least meet this man before you marry him. Now, tell me everything," Margaret said briskly, and Keelin felt a smile break over her face.

Flynn reached her and brought her hand with the ring to his lips. Her eyes shining, Keelin said, "You'll love him, Mom. He owns fifteen restaurants up and down the coast." Laughing, she leaned in to kiss Flynn and settled happily into her future.

******

An excerpt from Wild Irish Eyes: Book 2 in the Mystic Cove Series

featuring Cait Gallagher:

Chapter 1

Cait Gallagher hummed
along to the traditional Irish music that played softly through the speakers hidden deep in the corners of the pub that she owned in Grace's Cove, a small village set on the shores of Southern Ireland. Cait admired the gleam of the dark wood that accented all of her whimsical Irish décor as she wiped down a table. Content, and happy that the rehearsal dinner for Keelin and Flynn had gone so beautifully, Cait let her guard down and set her mind to wander.

"I bet she's good in bed. She's so tiny that I could throw her over my shoulder and drag her out of here."

Cait straightened as Patrick's voice shot through her mind. Forcing herself to keep all emotion from her face, she bent to wipe the table once more before turning towards the bar where Patrick, her new bartender, cleaned glasses in the new glass cleaner she had just purchased. Even if she couldn’t read minds, the hunger she saw in young Patrick's eyes was unmistakable. He blushed when Cait glanced his way and, dipping his head, he focused on the task at hand. Cait blew out a small breath and ran a hand through her short, curly mop of hair. At just over five feet tall, Cait was indeed tiny. A slim frame, short hair, and greenish-gold eyes completed the package and often had her being mistaken for a little girl. Those who knew her never made that mistake. As a pub owner, Cait had a commanding presence, a rigid backbone, and a healthy dose of risk-taking. She'd been known to break up more than her fair share of brawls. Typically though, it took little more than her raised voice to stop an argument in its tracks.

Cait kept an eye on Patrick as she moved around the pub. A recent hire, he was just eighteen years old and full of testosterone and angst. With his dark hair and gray eyes, Cait imagined that he had already cajoled more than one girl into his bed. Smiling, she shook her head at the urgency of youth and reminded herself to keep her mental shields up, as she would probably hear more than she needed to from Patrick if she wasn't careful. Cait shot him a friendly smile as she ducked under the pass-through behind the long wood bar that framed rows of glass shelves hung in front of a gilded mirror. Liquor bottles of all shapes and sizes clustered the shelves. Cait prided herself on stocking more than just the average fare and enjoyed offering a variety of alcohol choices. She bent to tuck her cleaning supplies beneath the counter. Turning, she slammed into Patrick's chest and stepped back involuntarily as he caged her with his arms.

Cait took a deep breath as her pulse picked up its pace. Blowing out her breath, she met Patrick's eyes.

"I think about you. A lot." Patrick's words sent an involuntary shudder through Cait and she realized that maybe she should have listened a little more closely to Patrick's thoughts. Allowing her shields to drop, Cait did a quick scan of Patrick's mind. She breathed a sigh of relief as she found a healthy dose of lust but no intent to harm. Cait reached up and patted Patrick's arm.

"Patrick, I'm almost ten years older than you. While I'm flattered, you need to find a woman your own age to date." Cait smiled gently at him. She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. Cait let out a soft squeak before she contemplated how to break the kiss without bruising his fragile ego.

"What's going on here?"

A voice sliced across the pub and Cait tried not to groan as Patrick stepped hurriedly back from her. Cait knew that voice. Its owner had starred in more than one of her most decadent fantasies.

"Have I interrupted something?" Shane MacAuliffe stepped up to the bar and leaned casually against the railing as his brown eyes coolly assessed the situation. His lanky frame belied a whipcord strength that Cait had seen exhibited on several occasions.

"No, you haven't. Right, Patrick?" Cait turned and crossed her arms, staring down the young man. Patrick's cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, nodding at the floor.

"Why don't you take the kitchen bin out and finish cleaning up in there?" Cait suggested, and Patrick nodded, not meeting her eyes. He ducked quickly beneath the pass-through and all but ran for the kitchen, the door swinging wildly behind him. Cait huffed out a sigh and turned to face Shane. She was dying to read his thoughts but her own code of honor prevented her from doing so. She'd have to deal with this like a regular person.

Cait allowed her eyes to scan Shane. His casually proper attire was something that she knew he took time with, just as she knew that he drove into Dublin for his haircuts. His blond hair and stubborn jaw made him an attractive, if not an interesting man to look at. The unofficial mayor of Grace's Cove, Shane owned more than half of the commercial real estate buildings, including the one that housed her pub. Still, that didn't mean it was okay for him be here after hours, Cait thought. Deciding to take the offensive, she glared at him.

"And what are you doing, sneaking in here after hours?"

Shane raised an eyebrow at her and Cait was startled to see anger lying beneath the cool surface of his calm façade.

"I own the place, remember?"

Cait blew out a breath and turned to finish cleaning the glasses. The task gave her something else to focus on and forced her to keep her mouth from saying something stupid like, "take me." Cait did a mental eye roll. She promised herself that one day she would get over this insatiable crush that she had on her landlord.

"Yes, sir, I remember." Cait infused her words with bitter sarcasm. He always hated it when she called him
sir
.

"Knock it off. What are you doing messing with that kid? He's too young for you," Shane said bitterly as he ducked behind the bar and helped himself to a Harp.

"Make yourself at home, there," Cait said.

"Put it on my house account. Now, answer my question."

Cait finished washing her hands and dried them carefully on a bar rag that hung in front of her. Part of her was gleeful that Shane cared and part of her was infuriated that he thought that she was too old for Patrick.

"My love life is my own. Thanks for asking though."

Cait gasped as Shane stepped towards her, pressing her small body back against the bar. She allowed her eyes to trail up his chest, past his clenched jaw, to where his deep brown eyes were murderous. It was so rare for Shane to show emotion like this that Cait found herself trembling against him.

"Your love life? You're sleeping with him? What kind of boss are you?"

Shock hit Cait at his words and a warm flush of anger and embarrassment shot through her.

Her voice shook and she skewered Shane with a glare.

"I'm the best kind of boss. One that knows what she wants and gets it. No matter what. And at this moment that would be you…leaving my pub. Now."

Shane took a deep breath and stepped back from her. Cait felt oddly bereft at the absence of his heat. She held his eyes as he nodded once at her and ducked beneath the pass-through.

"Excuse me, then. I'll just leave you to your business. I'm sure that Patrick can walk you home instead." Shane slammed through the front door and Cait brought her trembling head to the bar, allowing the smooth wood to cool the heat of her forehead. What had just happened? Cait needed a moment to breathe.

"Um, I'd be happy to walk you home."

Cait stayed where she was as Patrick's voice greeted her from across the room. If she knew her town, this would be the gossip on everyone's lips over breakfast tomorrow.

"No, thank you, Patrick. Come here, we need to talk."

Patrick walked to the other side of the bar and met her eyes, the naked hunger in his eyes softening her stance. Though Cait felt the pleasure of being wanted wash through her, she also knew that Shane was right. Patrick was not only too young for her, but he was also her employee.

She pulled out two shot glasses and filled them with a splash of Tullamore Dew. She slid one across to Patrick.

"Here's the deal, Patrick. I'm flattered that you are attracted to me. But, at your age, you'll find someone else in under a week. And you should…you should be out testing the waters and seeing what you do and don't like. Not only am I not the one for you, it also goes against my rules and my ethics to sleep with an employee. You do a good job here and I want to keep you on. But, I'm going to have to ask you never to make a pass at me again. Do you think that you can handle that?" Cait said firmly, her eyes never wavering from the young man's face. Patrick took a deep breath and nodded once before breaking into a smile.

"So, we're okay?"

Cait smiled at him and held up her shot glass. "Slàinte." They clinked glasses and she allowed the warm burn of the whiskey to slip down her throat. The heat only seemed to fuel her anger at Shane but she kept a cool demeanor as she and Patrick chatted about the rehearsal dinner they'd hosted at the pub earlier that evening. Cait went around and flicked off lights and tried not to think about why Shane had come to the pub tonight.  Instead, she thought about Keelin and Flynn's wedding tomorrow. Cait was going solo as she was a bridesmaid in the wedding, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be able to mingle with the guests. Knowing that Flynn owned restaurants across Ireland had led Cait to hope that maybe she'd meet a new man, one not ensconced in Grace's Cove. One…that wasn't Shane. With a sigh, she ushered Patrick from the pub and locked the door behind her, pocketing her keys smoothly.

Her small flat was only a few blocks away and made her commute convenient though she often wished that she wasn't so accessible to all of her employees. Cait supposed that that was the drawback of owning your own business. She laughed at herself as she walked the quiet street towards her building. She loved owning a pub in Grace's Cove. Rumored to be a mystical town, the cove drew curiosity seekers from around the world. Tourism was a big business in Grace's Cove and Gallagher's Pub was at the heart of it. So what if people though the cove was enchanted? They wouldn't be far wrong, Cait thought. Rumors held that Grace O'Malley had protected it as her last resting place and that very few were allowed to enter the cove without being harmed. Whispers of powers passed down through Grace's bloodline heightened the reputation of the town. It was good for business and business was booming.

She wouldn’t change it for the world, Cait thought, and smiled at the sleepy town.

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Wild Irish Eyes: Book 2 in the Mystic Cove Series