Ashes on the Waves Page 23

  “I’m going to put the net in the water; hang on to it and I’ll pull you to the stairs.”

  She nodded and grabbed the net I extended. As I pulled her along the pier to the stairs, her body rose to the surface. She was indeed naked.

  “Francine!” I shouted toward the store. “Francine, I need your help!”

  When the girl reached the stairs, she released the net and climbed out of the water, shivering. I ripped my shirt off and pulled it over her. “We need to warm you up,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. At least she hadn’t gone into shock yet.

  “Can you walk?”

  She shook her head and I caught her just as her knees gave way. “Francine!” With one arm, I couldn’t carry her. I had to warm her up. I sat and pulled her against me, rubbing her frigid skin. “Francine!”

  Finally, she burst from the store. “What in heaven’s name?” When she reached us, her jaw dropped. “Where did she come from?”

  “I don’t know. I found her in the water.”

  “Help me get her inside,” she said, pulling the barely conscious girl to her feet. We balanced her between us and made it to the sofa in the store.

  “Take off your pants and lie down,” Francine ordered, holding the girl in an upright position.

  “What?”

  “Do as I say.”

  I slipped out of my jeans and lay on the sofa and Francine pulled my shirt off the girl and pushed her against me from head to toe.

  “Wrap your legs over her. We need as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. We have to raise her core temperature.”

  When I hesitated, she shouted, “Do it!”

  After covering us with a blanket, she put the kettle on the stove and pulled out two red rubber water bottles from under the sink cabinet. The poor girl in my arms shuddered and quaked to where it felt like her bones would rattle apart.

  “Shhh,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re going to be okay now. Relax.”ax.”

  She muttered something through her chattering teeth that sounded like “Liam,” but I was certain it had been my imagination.

  Francine filled the water bottles and placed one against the girl’s chest. “Hold this,” she said. “For heaven’s sake, lad. Hold it.” She placed my hand over the bottle, then gathered the girl’s hands and put them under mine. They were as cold as ice. She put the other bottle on the bottom of her feet and rubbed her toes.

  “She’s lucky you found her. Any longer in the water and she might not have made it. She must have been out there awhile. She should have known better.”

  “Known better?”

  Francine shook her head. “Never mind. I’m just rambling.”

  “Do you know her, Francine?”

  “No.”

  The girl shifted slightly, and my heart stuttered. “Where do you suppose she came from?”

  Francine frowned. “No telling. I have my suspicions, but let’s wait and see what she has to say.”

  “What are your suspicions?” The girl made a moaning sound and pushed even harder against me.

  “Lad, I’ve lived long enough to learn not to speculate out loud.” She placed the water bottle between the girl’s knees and continued rubbing her feet.

  The bell on the door chimed. Francine got to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Somehow, my situation seemed more peculiar without Francine in the room. “Liam,” the girl said as plain as day. “My Liam . . .”

  “I’m here,” I responded, sounding anything but comforting. Panicked was more like it. I was lying with a naked girl I knew nothing about who knew my name. I was certain my situation couldn’t get any stranger, but I was wrong. At that moment, Brigid Ronan entered the room.

  She squatted down in front of us and studied the girl’s face. “Open your eyes,” she said. I couldn’t see her face but felt her eyelashes flutter against my arm.

  Miss Ronan nodded. “I’ll take her to Taibhreamh until we can piece her story together.”

  “Wait. You can’t just walk in and take her away,” I said.

  “Exactly what had you planned to do with her, Mr. MacGregor?” she asked, pushing to her feet. “You will have access to her since Miss Leighton commanded me to allow you to stay at the mansion. Unfettered access. Will that not be sufficient?”

  I felt completely cornered. Not only was I pinned in physically by the girl, I was trapped by my own words. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Could I offer you some tea, Brigid?” Francine asked.

  “No. I only came to drop off Miss Leighton’s letter before the boat arrived. She asked me to do it the day her friends left, but I forgot about it.” She dropped an envelope on the kitchen counter. “Mr. MacGregor can bring the girl when he comes to Taibhreamh this evening. Deirdre will enjoy having a companion . . . that is, if Mr. MacGregor is willing to share her.” Stiffly, she turned and marched out of the room.

  “I don’t care for that woman,” I said as the bell jingled.

  “I think it’s mutual.” Francine patted me on the shoulder. “The girl’s color looks good. We need to get her moving around. Ling arouet’s see if she is warmed up enough to sit up and drink some tea.” She pulled her to upright by the shoulders. “Here you go, lass. Let’s have a nice cup of tea, now. Oh, my.” Francine grabbed her apron from the oven handle, put it over the girl’s head, and tied it around her back. “Well, there you go,” she said. “Can you talk?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Can I get up now?” I asked. The girl turned her face to me and I was stunned. Her long, blond hair was matted with seawater and her skin was now a healthy golden hue. The eyes, though, seemed out of place with the rest of her—enormous, round, and very dark.

  I realized that if I moved, it would shift the blanket and expose her, so I just remained still. “Never mind.”

  Francine handed the girl a cup of tea she had loaded with sugar. She took it but seemed completely confused. Maybe she hadn’t recovered as much as I’d thought. Francine raised the cup to her lips and the girl took a sip. She grinned and gulped the rest of the tea in only a few swallows. “Good thing it was cooled off a bit,” Francine said. “Now you’ll be coming with me. We need to put you in a shower and get you warm and clean. Can you walk?”

  “Yes,” she said. Her voice matched her eyes: dark and rich.

  Francine pulled off her bathrobe and wrapped it around the girl. The girl touched a flower on Francine’s nightgown. “Pretty,” she said.

  “Yes, well. Let’s get you up the stairs, then.” Francine helped her to her feet and together, they climbed the stairs to Francine’s apartment.

  I slipped on my jeans and pulled my now-wet T-shirt over my head. The envelope Miss Ronan had delivered caught my eye. Nicholas Emery and an address were on the front with several colorful stamps. It was unsealed. I turned it over in my hand several times.

  This was a private message from Anna to Nicholas. I would not invade her personal business.

  “There are no secrets between lovers,” Francine had said. There should not be. I would not hide anything from Anna. She would be welcome to read anything I wrote.

  Still . . .

  Leaving it unopened, I put it back on the counter and headed out to the pier, where I set about moving the lobsters from the holding pen to the plastic bins for transport to the mainland. They were marked with colored bands around their claws that indicated sizes for sorting. It was easy, mindless work, which was what I needed.

  Every fiber of my being ached for Anna, and the appearance of the new girl made it worse somehow. It was as though I were being teased or tormented by the Otherworld.

  “Haven’t I suffered enough?” I shouted to no one. For some reason, my emotion surged and I was overcome. For the first time since I was a small child, I wept for my own condition. My loneliness. My misery. Myself.

  * * *

  After the woman named Francine helped Muireann shower, she gave her a gown with flowers on it just
like the one she was wearing.

  Muireann wanted to look pretty for her Liam.

  Life as a human was different. She could move on land far better than she could in her seal form, but the water was terrifying. After she shed her pelt and hid it, her human form felt like a stone trying to pull her to the bottom. And she was cold. So cold.

  But not now. Now, she smelled like her Liam and looked like his female in a pretty dress.

  “Are you hungry?” Francine asked.

  “Yes!”

  “Liam! Come in for lunch,” Francine shouted from the window overlooking the harbor.

  She opened a can and it smelled heavenly. After mixing something up in a bowl, she spread it on a roll and put it in front of Muireann.

  Hands were convenient. She didn’t have to bite the food off the plate. She could pick it up and nibble like she’d watched humans do at the dock. She knew a lot about the human world because of the stories told by her relatives who had returned to the sea after shedding their pelts. It was fascinating to experience it firsthand. She could identify most human objects.

  Her Liam came in from the back door and she got a funny feeling in her chest. Her human form was strange indeed.

  “Her name is Muireann,” Francine said. “She doesn’t know how she got here, nor does she remember anything from her past.”

  Liam washed his hands at the sink and sat opposite her at the table.

  “Hi, Muireann. I’m Liam.”

  Her face felt hot. Being human was confusing. “I know.”

  “Sometimes traumatic experiences keep us from remembering things,” Francine said, serving her a second canned tuna sandwich. “Maybe your memory will return with time.”

  “Surely someone will come looking for you,” Liam said.

  She shook her head and took another huge bite.

  “There’s nothing wrong with her appetite,” Francine said with a grin.

  Her Liam laughed. “Apparently not.”

  Something about his eyes was not right. They were rimmed in red. This troubled Muireann. “You have shed tears,” she said. “Why?”

  He looked into her eyes, then down at his plate, saying nothing.

  The rules of the human world were obviously different from her own. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must have misspoken.”

  Liam stood. “Excuse me, please. I’m almost finished with the bins.” And then he left without touching his sandwich.

  “How long will you be on Dòchas?” Francine asked.

  Her heart hammered. What an odd question. “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you here?”

  She knew. Muireann tucked her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. “I have no idea.”

  Francine leaned very close. “Let me tell you something. If you have been sent to do him harm, you’d better just collect your little pelt and dive right back into that sea. I’ll not be tolerating it. Are we clear?”

  Muireann nodded.

  Slowly, she repeated her earlier question. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to help him. I . . . I want to help him. I would never hurt him.”

  Francine pulled her chair very close and grabbed Muireann’s chair when she tried to scoot away. “Who sent you?”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I can’t say. They will hurt my family. Please. I promise you, I won’you, I wt hurt him.”

  “I’m going to make sure of that. Where is your pelt?”

  “I . . . I . . .”

  Francine yanked her up by the arm. “Tell me now, or I’ll toss you back in the sea without it.”

  “It’s under the stairs to the pier,” Muireann sobbed. “Please don’t destroy it.”

  “I’m o

  nly going to hold it for safekeeping. You don’t harm him and I’ll give it right back and you can go your way. How long will you be here?”

  “Until sunset tomorrow. Please don’t tell him. They will hurt my family if you do.”

  “Who will?”

  “I can’t say.” The tears burned her human skin.

  Francine released her and she slumped back into the chair. “Listen to me, little Selkie. You keep your hands and every other part of your body off him. Are we clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love that boy and so does Anna. You’ll not be messing this up.”

  Muireann trembled. This woman meant business and it was terrifying. Terrifying and wonderful. They were on the same side, even if Francine didn’t know it yet.

  Francine nodded as if satisfied, then picked up an envelope from the top of the counter. She pulled out the paper inside and skimmed the contents. “Oh, God,” she said under her breath. She shoved the letter in her pocket. “I have a job for you, Selkie.”

  30

  Misery is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch—as distinct too, yet as intimately blended.

  —Edgar Allan Poe,

  from “Berenice,” 1835

  Staying in Anna’s room was a mixed blessing. The sheets smelled of lilies and her very essence filled my senses, making it impossible to sleep. I could almost hear her voice at times. The Bean Sidhes had mercy and gave me peace, but so entwined was her soul with mine, I could find no rest.

  Today was her brother’s wedding day and she would return to me tomorrow, I realized with joy as the sunrise shone spectacularly through the stained-glass window. Only one more night without her.

  “Come in,” I called to whoever was rapping on the door.

  Deirdre stuck her head in. “Miss Ronan is off today. Do you need anything?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  She nodded and pulled the door closed. Giggles erupted outside in the hallway.

  Another set of raps.

  “Yes?”

  The door cracked open again. “Are you going to come down to breakfast soon?” Deirdre asked. Over her shoulder I could see Muireann waiting in the hallway.

  “Yes.”

  Again, the door closed, followed by giggles. What a change it was to hear laughter in this dismal place. Perhaps the evil would be warded off by such joy.

  I threw off the covers, showered, dressed, and went in search of Deirdre and our new houseguest.

  “Good morning,” I said, finding them in the kitchen. Every available surface was covered with pots, pans, and various foods.

  “I am making breakfast,” Muireann announced.

  “More like she’s making a mess,” Deirdre added with a grin.

  “What exactly are you making?” I asked.

  “Everything!” Muireann said.

  I picked up a roll and cut off a piece of cheese, trying not to laugh at her utter enthusiasm. She was a delightful change of pace. Even Deirdre was brightening in her light.

  “Deirdre says you paint people. Your female showed her lots of pictures you made. Will you paint me?” Muireann asked. She still wore Francine’s floral cotton nightgown and no shoes. Getting her to Taibhreamh had been a challenge. She refused to wear the shoes Francine had given her because she said she liked the way her feet looked and she didn’t want to cover them up.

  I smiled. “Yes. After work.”

  She pouted. “Francine said you didn’t need to come in until after lunch today since the boat came yesterday. Can’t you paint me now?”

  She ate like an animal and pouted like a child—such a strange and fascinating creature. “Okay. Meet me at the fountain outside.”

  Armed with my sketch pad, I found her alone sitting on the edge of the fountain, dipping her fingers in, just as Anna had done. My heart ached. “This isn’t a good idea,” I said. I had never painted any girl other than Anna. It felt wrong.

  “Why?” Her reactions were so innocent and childlike, it was disarming.

  I shook my head and sat on a bench across from her. “Just sit still for a moment.”

  “Can I have it to take with me when I go away?” she asked.


  I started with the general shape of her face. “Are you leaving soon?”

  “I don’t know.” She shifted.

  “Sit still, please.” Then I roughly sketched the hairline. She had gorgeous golden hair that cascaded past her waist. I formed the eyes. Those strange eyes that seemed incongruous with her face somehow—too large and dark.

  Then to my astonishment, she unbuttoned her gown and let it fall to her waist. “I want you to draw me in my human skin.”

  Before I could react, Brigid Ronan rounded the corner of the house. “Well, you work fast, Mr. MacGregor,” she said. “Have you painted a nude of Anna yet?”

  “What? No, of course not. Wait! It’s not what it looks like.”

  She looked from Muireann to me and back again. “Of course it’s not. It’s . . . What exactly is it?”

  “It’s a mistake,” I said, yanking the gown back up over Muireann’s shoulders.

  “It always is.” She gave me a menacing smirk and then walked away.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Muireann asked in complete innocence. It was as if she truly didn’t understand.

  I picked up my sketch pad. “No,” I said. “Not intentionally. This was completely my fault.” I should never have agreed to draw her. “I have to go now. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “No.”

  * * *

  Muireann knew she had made a huge mistake, but she didn’t know what it was for sure. Obviously, humans had a strange notion about their skin. She found it beautiful, but they all kept it covered. Okay. Lesson learned.

  She had to make this right. Francine had asked for her help and she would use the day to do just that. She would help her Liam. It would involve searching the room he was staying in, which would mean she would need to find the key.

  For all their hang-ups, humans seemed friendly enough. Surely Deirdre would help her.

  She stared out over the cliff at the water. Longing filled her from head to toe. She didn’t belong here. She needed to be with her family in the ocean. It was worth it, though. She was helping her Liam.