Wild Irish Roots (The Mystic Cove Series)

  Wild Irish Roots

  Prequel to the Mystic Cove Series

  Copyright © 2014 by Tricia O'Malley

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design:

  Alchemy Book Covers

  Editor:

  Emily Nemchick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.

  If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting the author at: tricia@thestolendog.com

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Wild Irish Roots (The Mystic Cove Series)

  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 One | ­­­­­­­­­

  Chapter Two

  Author's Note

  Author's Acknowledgement

  Never love anybody that treats you like you're ordinary. - Oscar Wilde

  Chapter One

  "Mum, that man is lying." Margaret Grainne O'Brien tugged on Fiona's hand and pointed. At nine years old, Margaret was a precocious, intelligent child. She watched people closely and often offered her unfiltered opinions of their behavior.

  "Shh, Margaret. Just because you can see that about him doesn't mean that other people can," Fiona said gently to her daughter. Margaret looked up at her quizzically.

  "But, he is," Margaret insisted.

  The man in question was, luckily, too far away for Margaret's small voice to reach him. He leaned across the table and held the hand of a blonde woman, looking searchingly into her eyes.

  "Yes, he is. But some things we must allow to unfold naturally," Fiona cautioned and pulled her daughter away.

  Margaret looked over her shoulder at the man as Fiona dragged her from the small restaurant. If someone had asked her, she would have been unable to explain why she knew when people were lying, in love, or hiding something. It was just how she saw the world. She'd never been told that she was different.

  "Margaret, honey, let's get a cup of tea and sit outside, okay?" Fiona asked and stopped at a coffee shop next to the restaurant. She ordered cinnamon scones for the both of them and a pot of tea, motioning for Margaret to pick a table outside. Margaret picked one where she still had a view of the restaurant. Her nine-year-old brain was a curious one and she wanted to know what happened with the lying man.

  Fiona came to join her at the table. Margaret smiled up at her mom, admiring her strawberry-blonde hair and sherry-brown eyes. Margaret took after her mother in that respect and she loved having Fiona braid her long hair. Even at this age, she had some vanity with her appearance.

  Fiona smiled at Margaret and poured her a cup of tea, before spooning some clotted cream onto a scone for her. Together, they sat in silence for a moment as the small village of Grace's Cove bustled around them. A lovely spring day, the air was gentle with the promise of summer. The sun warmed the colorful buildings that jostled for attention on the main street that led to the harbor. At the bottom of the hill, the water spread out, the waves dancing in the sunlight.

  "Margaret, honey, we need to talk," Fiona began.

  Margaret tensed up. She could already tell that Fiona had something serious, if not scary, to tell her. She could read her mother's emotions and sensed her trepidation. Margaret put her scone down.

  "What? What did I do wrong?"

  "No, nothing like that. I want to talk to you about that man in the restaurant," Fiona said.

  "Oh. Do you know why he was lying?" Margaret asked and took a bite from the cinnamon scone, letting the flavors settle over her tongue before taking a small sip of her tea.

  "No. And, most people don't know that he is lying. It's time that we talked about your ability," Fiona said carefully.

  Margaret felt her stomach knot up. She wasn't sure what was going on, but could tell that Fiona was tense.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, do you know how the other little girls that you play with sometimes get upset when you say things? Like how you know if they have a crush on a boy or if they are keeping a secret?"

  Margaret shrugged her shoulders and looked stonily at her plate. Lately, she'd been having more and more trouble with her friends. It was hard for her to keep her mouth shut about the things that she saw. She didn't mean to blurt out the things that she knew; Margaret thought that she was helping her friends.

  "Are they mad at me? Did their mums say something to you?" Margaret whispered.

  "No, honey, not at all. First, I want you to know that I love you very much and always will. But, it is time to learn the truth about yourself. About us. You are an extra special girl. Just like me. Just like all of the females of our family." Fiona smiled warmly at Margaret and Margaret couldn't help but smile back even though her stomach was in knots. She could feel the love radiating from her mother and felt safe.

  "What do you mean extra special? Like, because I can do math so well?" Margaret asked, deliberately steering the conversation around where she sensed it was going.

  "No, because you have a special ability that other people don't have. But, if you don't learn how to keep quiet about it, people may treat you differently," Fiona said and patted Margaret's hand. "Honey, you're empathic. It is a very special gift that allows you to see other people's feelings even if they don't say anything. That man that you saw in the restaurant? Well, nobody else would know he was lying. Not even the woman that he was talking to. Most people can't see what you see."

  Margaret felt heat creep through her as she began to understand all of the awkward moments she had been having at school. She was different.

  "But you said that you could see he was lying!" Margaret said, accusation in her voice.

  "I can. I did. But, see, I'm different too." Fiona smiled at her.

  Margaret knew this to be true. She'd heard whispers of it on the playground and around the village. Fiona O'Brien's healing skills were both revered and feared. Margaret had always wondered why someone would be scared of Fiona, when she brought so much good to others.

  "So, we're weird?" Margaret asked and crossed her arms over her small chest. Shame began to build within her.

  "Margaret O'Brien, stop that. Immediately." Fiona's harsh tone jerked Margaret's gaze to her face. "We are not weird. We are special. Not everyone gets to have these types of gifts. They have been handed down from a very famous woman."

  Her interest piqued, Margaret toyed with her scone before looking up at Fiona.

  "From who?"

  "Well, none other than the famous pirate queen, Grainne O'Malley. Grace. Just like my middle name. Just like yours."

  "We're related to a pirate queen?" Margaret said excitedly. She'd always loved the water and spent many a happy hour down in the cove with Fiona.

  "That we are...the best one, at that. Grace ruled the seas with a steel fist and wide-open heart. She helped to maintain much of our Irish culture. When it was time for her to pass on, well, she chose the cove as her final resting place."

  Margaret's hands stilled on the plate. "Our cove?"

  "Yes, our cove. The cove is where she chose to die. In doing so, she protected it. And, through whatever powers that be, she also gave everyone of her bloodline special gifts. You're lucky to have it," Fiona said fiercely.

  Margaret stared across the road sullenly. She didn't feel lucky. She felt different now.

  "I don't want it," Margaret said stubbornly.

  Fiona laughed at her and reached across the table to cup her chin.

  "That's something you'll have to come to terms with, my love."

  Chapter Two

  Ten Years Later

  Margaret dumped the rest of the teacups into the sink and powered the large sprayer over them. Her mind was on her date with Sean tonight, so she almost missed the cups and sprayed herself. Laughing, Margaret stepped back from the sink and went to lock the front door, calling to Sarah, the other server that worked at Grace's Cup, a small teashop in downtown Grace's Cove.

  "Sarah, I'm closing up. I have a date to get ready for. You can go." Margaret smiled with anticipation as she locked the front glass-paned door and wound her way back through the small tables that cluttered the floor of the small restaurant.

  "Alright then, see you later this week," Sarah grumbled as she left from the back door. Margaret rolled her eyes and moved through the small kitchen to twist the lock on the back door. Sarah always had one complaint or another. Shrugging it off, Margaret went into the back room to pull her garment bag from the closet. Smiling, she unzipped the bag to reveal a deep purple dress. She'd saved it just for this date with Sean, knowing that they would move their relationship forward soon.

  Margaret changed quickly, slipping the purple dress over her curvy frame. On the taller side, Margaret held her curves well and she'd often received compliments on how she filled out a dress.

  Always from the wrong people, Margaret thought. At nineteen, Margaret was sti
ll a virgin, having rebuffed all of the fumbling attempts by the inept boys that she had gone to school with. Until Sean. Sean had moved to Grace's Cove two years ago, just as Margaret was finishing school. A few years older than her, Sean had caught her eye immediately. He was everything that the boys at school weren't. Tall, muscular, and with a confidence that most guys her age had yet to cultivate. Dark brown hair, brown eyes and a bright white smile completed the package and Margaret's heart had been lost ever since.

  A month ago, Sean had casually bumped into her at the pub. They had ended up talking for quite a while that night. Margaret smiled as she thought about how their friends had faded away into the background as they grilled each other about their lives and their dreams for the future. Since then, they had been stealing moments with each other—a cup of tea, a walk by the water. Slowly, they had begun to reveal their true selves to each other.

  Margaret stiffened as she ran a comb through the strawberry-blonde hair that fell halfway down her back. Except she hadn't been fully truthful with Sean. She hadn't told him about her gift. Margaret never talked about that side of herself. To anyone. Ever since Fiona had taught her how to shield who she was from the world, Margaret had lived behind a barrier, never slipping up...never wanting to be different.

  Since the night at the pub, their attraction to each other had grown rapidly. Margaret was already lost and could feel that Sean was on his way to loving her. Tonight was their first real dinner date. A trickle of excitement ran through Margaret. She'd never felt so connected to a boy – a man – before.

  Leaving her hair to fall down her shoulders, Margaret leaned in to look in the small mirror that hung in the back room. Grabbing her makeup bag from her purse, she outlined her sherry-brown eyes with a navy pencil and smudged the makeup into the lash line. Smoothing on a lipstick shade in soft rose, Margaret dropped her hand and smiled at herself in the mirror. The touch of makeup made Margaret look older, her face edgier, as though she held a wealth of womanly secrets.

  And what secrets she did hold, Margaret thought.

  Brushing off her nervousness, Margaret took one last look in the small mirror, craning over her shoulder to look at the back of her dress. Satisfied, she picked up her small bag and went to meet Sean at a local restaurant down the street that they had both agreed to meet at after their workdays. Knowing that Sean probably didn't make much money as a fisherman, Margaret had picked an easygoing restaurant. Though she was probably overdressed for dinner, Margaret wanted to feel beautiful.

  Sean had haunted her dreams for months now. She wasn't going to let anything mess this up. With a solemn oath to herself never to speak of her gift to Sean, lest he be disgusted by her, Margaret left for dinner.

  Chapter Three

  Sean waited for Margaret outside of the local fish and chips pub. He scratched beneath the collar of one of the few nice dress shirts he owned. Sean felt awkward standing here with a simple clutch of wildflowers in his hand, while people passing by on the street eyed him with a smile.

  Sean did a mental groan as he thought about the town gossips. Though he'd lived in the small town of Grace's Cove for a couple years, he'd yet to grow accustomed to the nosey ways of local gossips.

  Sean leaned back against the brick wall of the building and thought about Dublin. He'd loved the big-city life and longed to run a successful fishing operation out of Galway or Dublin. But, he was also prudent. Coming to Grace's Cove where some of the most prized seafood in all of Ireland rested was a smart decision on his part. Here, he was learning the intricacies of the differnt ways of fishing from gathering mussels to spearing larger fish.

  A flash of heat zipped through him as he saw pretty Margaret O'Brien step from the front door of the teashop down the road. His stomach knotted in lust as he watched the sway of her hips under a purple dress with a hem that was just short enough to make his mouth water. He'd watched Margaret for over a year, never having a chance to really talk to her until that one night at the pub.

  The night that had changed his life.

  He'd never fallen for a girl so hard before. There was just something...different about her. It was like she had known him, not just the person he pretended to be. In just a few moments she had broken through his barriers and he'd found himself confiding his dreams to her.

  Was he love struck? Oh yeah, Sean thought. The stars were crowding his eyes, no doubt. He could all but see little birds chirping around Margaret as she walked up the street. If he didn't get a taste of her soon, Sean was quite certain he would die. Holding the flowers up in the air, he moved down the sidewalk to greet her. As she laughed up at him and his poor little bouquet of flowers, it seemed like nothing in his world would ever go wrong so long as pretty Margaret O'Brien kept smiling at him.

  Chapter Four

  Margaret laughed at Sean's outstretched hand, where wildflowers wilted around a twine bow. Her heart clenched as she took the flowers and looked up into his warm brown eyes.

  "Thank you." Margaret twinkled up at him. She saw the moment that Sean leaned in a little, almost as if he would kiss her, before stepping back. She wanted to stamp her foot into the ground. She'd been aching for his kiss for months now.

  Margaret smiled as he held the door open for her and whisked her into the small restaurant. She inhaled the scent of sea and man as she brushed past him and had a sudden urge to kiss the skin that she glimpsed from the opening of his shirt. Swallowing against the heat that trailed through her, Margaret wound through the restaurant as the hostess directed them to a small table in the corner. A fat candle sputtered in the middle of the table and the waitress pointed to a chalkboard on the wall.

  "Food's listed there. Drinks?" She raised an eyebrow at the both of them.

  "Um, a glass of your red, please," Margaret said.

  "No wine, hun, beer or cider."

  "Oh, a Bulmers please," Margaret said.

  "Guinness," Sean requested before scanning the chalkboard. "I suppose fish and chips would be best as that seems to be what they are popular for."

  "Aye, that's fine with me," Margaret said though her stomach was in knots and she was quite certain that she wouldn't be able to eat a thing. She breathed out a small sigh and smiled as the waitress dropped their glasses onto the table with a thump, before sashaying away.

  Margaret laughed as Sean raised an eyebrow at the waitress and used his napkin to wipe the table where their drinks had sloshed over the rim.

  "Sorry about that. I guess that I thought that this place would be nicer," Sean said.

  "It's no big deal. So, how was your day?" Margaret said and settled in to listen to him talk about being out on the boat. His eyes lit up as he talked about his passion and Margaret wished that he would look at her this way. Sipping on her Bulmers, she allowed her shields to slip and let his emotions slip into her.

  Happiness and a strong punch of lust washed over her. Margaret's eyes widened as she realized just how much Sean was interested in her. Knowing this, feeling this part of him, made her heart sing. Never having felt confident with boys before, Margaret watched this man who was clearly enamored with her and decided then and there that she would give him every part of herself.

  Well, except for one thing. Nobody would ever know that. She'd always been careful to conceal that part of her and after a while, it had just become second nature. Margaret didn't see any reason that Sean would have to know that side of her. The less she used it, the less she thought about it. It had become easier and easier to distance herself from Fiona's curious reputation, and soon people had forgotten that Margaret might be touched with something extra special too.

  Margaret took a bite of her fish and savored the melted butter and freshness of the daily catch. Thinking about Fiona made her stomach clench a bit. The older she had gotten, the more her mother had pressed her to explore her gift. She'd refused more times than she could count. Though she knew that Fiona was a renowned healer and that people traveled from all over Ireland for her services, Margaret had staunchly refused to ever attend a healing session. Guilt had led Margaret to help her mother collect herbs and flowers for various ointments, but her involvement in her mother's world stopped there.

  It had to, Margaret thought stiffly, and brought herself back to the table.