The New Shore, page 22
Nadiya laughed again, a deep, full-throated laugh that made Rebecca’s heart sing. “And here I thought you were just being a curmudgeon.”
“I am a curmudgeon.”
“No.” Nadiya linked an arm through Rebecca’s as they walked barefoot through the surf washing up onto the sand. “You were used to this.” She raised her head to the sky and took a deep breath. “I’m beginning to understand why this is so hard for you to leave.”
They walked to the end of the beach and then went to sit on the boulders that formed a sea wall to brush their feet off and put their shoes on. They climbed the trail back up to the ring road and began the trek back to the village.
More cars passed them than Rebecca had seen for months prior.
“You were right,” Nadiya observed. “Even I can see there’s more traffic now.”
Rebecca shrugged. “The tourists and the dollars they bring are the price we pay for our sanctuary the rest of the year.”
“Sing it for me.”
The request came out of the blue. Nadiya had asked sporadically ever since she’d given Rebecca that shoe and pebble.
“Told you, I don’t remember the words.”
It was a lie, of course. Back then, Rebecca had been certain that Nadiya would be forever by her side. That they would never have enough of walking through life together, never turn the pebble loose to meet her new road.
“When do you have to go back?” Rebecca asked.
“Monday. Then I’ll catch the train back to Philly.”
Two more days. And then what? Rebecca wondered.
Nadiya seemed to read her mind. “But I’ll be back when I can.” She must have realized what she’d implied. “If you want me to.”
“I do.” The words came out of her mouth before Rebecca could snatch them back. “But… I don’t understand what we’re doing.”
“Why do we have to be doing anything?” Nadiya slipped her arm through Rebecca’s again. “Can’t we just take what time we have? Can’t that be enough?”
Can it? Rebecca wasn’t sure. That was the problem. She wasn’t sure of anything any longer. Wasn’t sure she could be happy without Nadiya in her life. Wasn’t sure if she was meant to be here, alone, for the rest of her days. Being Keeper had been enough for her for decades, but now… Is it enough?
Chapter 21
The Toyota, newly washed and waxed, sat prominently on the main street, the faded stars on each front door still clearly visible. Molly thought it was a good idea to give the tourists regular glimpses of it, along with her presence, checking on things.
“Mornin’, Sheriff,” came a drawling voice.
Molly grinned at Siobhan. “Mornin’, ma’am.” She touched a finger to the brim of her baseball cap.
Siobhan laughed and went back into her shop. Molly followed, taking in the shelves crammed with candles, pottery, jewelry, wood carvings, along with witchy paraphernalia like wands, small cauldrons, incense, crystals, and bottles filled with various oils and herbs.
“Wow, you’re fully stocked.”
“’Tis the season.” Siobhan dusted as she roamed the shelves. “Already busy. I’m looking forward to the kids getting back. I’ll need the help.”
Molly had a thought. “Have you talked to my mom?”
“Jenny?” Siobhan paused her dusting. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Molly said quickly. “I was thinking, you know, with the house mostly empty now, she might need something to do. Something that doesn’t involve cleaning or cooking or taking care of us.”
“That’s a thought.” Siobhan pursed her lips. “It would be nice to have someone older and reliable who could help me keep an eye on things. Speaking of which, kind of, how’s Joey?”
“Last I heard, he’ll stay on the mainland two or three more weeks for his shoulder therapy, then probably come back here.”
“What’s Matty been doing?”
“He was taking Big Sister folks out for halibut season, but that’s tapering off now. Not sure. He won’t go fishing alone.”
“Do you think he and Brandi will move here?”
“Don’t know. While we were building the classroom, he kind of talked like they were leaning that way.”
“It would be nice for the babies to grow up here.”
Molly paused at her wistful tone. “Your biological clock isn’t ticking, is it?”
Siobhan’s face registered shock for a moment before she broke into a full belly laugh that had tears running down her face. “Goddess, no.”
She wiped the tears away. “But we need young ones to feel that connection to the island, to want to stay here.”
“Hopefully, Meredith teaching the kids here will do that.”
“I hope so.” Siobhan shook back her red curls. “How’s Kathleen?”
The unexpected question caught Molly off-guard, and she stared suspiciously at Siobhan. “Why?”
“I’ve sensed a darkness around her. A heaviness. It feels…” Siobhan paused. “More than grief. I wanted to check on her, but it felt intrusive.”
“It is.” Molly shook her head. “More than grief. Not intrusive. She wouldn’t talk for ages, but she finally shared—” Molly hesitated.
“I wouldn’t want to pry,” Siobhan said, guessing at Molly’s reluctance.
“I don’t think she’d mind, and to tell the truth, I don’t know how to help her,” Molly admitted. “All the hours Kathleen spent sitting with her mother, taking care of her, she was still hoping that they could reconcile.”
“Ah.” Siobhan’s eyes closed in understanding.
“One day, when Kathleen thought Christine was going to say something, all she wanted was Kathleen’s promise to make sure she was cremated with Bryan’s oar.”
Siobhan’s eyes snapped open. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah.” Molly grimaced. “Aidan found it after the storm. Kept it all those years. Then he gave it to Christine.”
“So she was able to cling to him even into death.”
Molly nodded. “And Kathleen is still left out.”
“That’s explains the weight I feel.” Siobhan narrowed her eyes. “Has the cottage been cleansed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, goddess, it hasn’t been.” Siobhan shook her head. “How long was that oar in the house?”
“Not sure.” Molly shrugged, trying to remember. “A few weeks, maybe?”
“If you and Kathleen don’t mind, I’ll come by and do the cleansing. The sooner the better.”
“Okay.”
Siobhan came to Molly and hugged her. “I’m sorry. For both of you. This must be hard.”
“Thanks.” Molly hugged her in return, taking in Siobhan’s scent of wildflowers. “It’s mostly hard because I don’t know how to help. Kathleen doesn’t want to see her dad, even though he called and offered to come out for her birthday.”
“Michael might be feeling the same weight.” Siobhan released Molly. “Christine’s obsession with Bryan may have left him out, too.”
“I never thought of that. He always seemed so cold to Kathleen, I figured he was just as wrapped up in Bryan.”
Siobhan gave Molly’s arm a comforting rub. “He may have felt like that, but I have a feeling his time here woke something in him. If she could give him a chance, she might find him a changed man.”
The village was still in darkness as Rebecca made her way to the market. One thing islanders learned quickly was to get their errands done early during tourist season.
“Morning, Miranda.”
Miranda glanced up from where she was putting out more tomatoes. “Morning, Rebecca.”
Rebecca picked one up and sniffed. “From the greenhouse?”
“Yes. We’ve got the outdoor garden planted, but these’ll have to do for now.”
Rebecca put three in her basket, along with lettuce and carrots.
“How much longer is your friend staying?” Miranda asked.
Rebecca kept her eyes on the produce. “She’ll be leaving with the ferry today.”
“It’s nice she’s been able to visit.” Miranda gave Rebecca a pat on the back as she went to the counter to ring up Lena Clearwater. “Can’t remember the last time you had someone.”
Lena, plunking all of her items on the counter, said, “Yes, I had a nice conversation with her at the diner when she was here in March. Fascinating work she does for that gallery.”
Rebecca smiled, adding some peppers and a sack of potatoes to her basket. No secrets here. Rebecca was usually on the probe-and-find-out end of the island’s goings-on, not the hope-no-one-notices end. That, obviously, was not happening.
When Lena had paid and said good-bye, Rebecca took her items to the register, where Miranda rang her up.
“Enjoy your last day with her.” Miranda helped Rebecca place everything in her canvas tote bags. “Hope she’ll be able to come back soon.”
Rebecca merely nodded and hurried home. By the time Nadiya got up and wandered sleepily into the kitchen, Rebecca had a skillet of diced peppers and onions sizzling.
“Mmm, that smells so good.” Nadiya stepped up behind Rebecca, wrapping her arms around her and kissing her neck.
“If you distract me, these will burn, and you’ll have to have cereal for breakfast.”
Nadiya gave a throaty laugh and one last kiss. “All right.”
Rebecca pointed with her spatula. “I picked up some coffee from the diner for you. Should still be hot.”
“Oh, thank you.” Nadiya flipped open the lid of the travel mug and took a sip. “I know you like your tea, but I need coffee in the morning. We gotta get a coffee maker.”
They both froze for a moment.
“Uh,” Nadiya stammered, “I’ll set the table.”
Rebecca turned back to the stove, stirring in beaten eggs to scramble with the peppers and onions. In a few minutes, they were seated with breakfast.
“What’s happening at the gallery?” Rebecca asked.
“We’re getting ready for a big auction,” Nadiya replied. “A private collection is being liquidated. Should bring in four to five million.”
Rebecca’s fork clattered against her plate. “Dollars?”
Nadiya laughed. “Yes. Dollars. This is what we do.” She tilted her head, her dark eyes probing. “Of course, I could sell more pirate booty if you have some.”
Rebecca cursed herself for bringing the gallery up at all. “Afraid not, matey.”
“No more gold coins or jewels fit for kings, huh?”
Rebecca focused on her eggs. “If there are, they’re buried deep below.”
Determined to change the subject, she asked, “What would you like to do with the rest of your time here?”
“Could you take me up to where the windmills are?”
“The Head? Sure the views are incredible from up there.”
“I’d like to get some photos to show people back home.”
“Did you bring a camera?”
Nadiya shook her head as she took a sip of coffee. “I will next time. But I have my phone. Might not have cell reception here, but it still works as a camera.”
Next time. Rebecca half-listened as they finished breakfast and Nadiya talked some more about her mother wishing Rebecca would come for a visit. She said there’d be a next time.
It seemed the morning flew by way too fast. The Head, back around to the beach for another seaside stroll through the surf which was almost up to the sea wall at high tide. Before Rebecca knew it, Nadiya had emerged from the bedroom with her bag packed and a tight smile on her beautiful face. The ferry sounded a melancholy blast of its horn, signaling that it was boarding.
“Don’t come to the marina,” Nadiya said in a low voice. She stepped closer and kissed Rebecca tenderly. “This is hard enough without having to say good-bye in front of other people.”
Nadiya took her hand and pressed something into her palm. A pebble. “Picked it up near the windmills,” she murmured. “When you see it, think of me.”
Rebecca’s throat was too tight to speak, so she merely nodded and slipped it into her jeans pocket. She blinked, and Nadiya was gone.
“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” Kathleen said. “The room is empty. We got rid of all the beds and furniture. It’s been painted. It’s just sitting empty.”
But Siobhan walked slowly around the bedroom, her hands up as if feeling for something. “That’s a good start, but not enough.”
She went to a large tote bag she’d brought with her and handed Molly four white pillar candles. “Set these at the compass points, will you? Oh, and open the window all the way.”
Molly stood for a moment, orienting herself before placing the candles on the floor and then shoving the sash as high as it would go.
To Kathleen, Siobhan handed several pieces of wood. Some were twisted and gnarled, others looked like ordinary branches.
“What are these for?” Kathleen asked.
“Tree magic.” Siobhan held up one of the branches. “This is hawthorn, and these,” she picked up two others, “are alder and blackthorn. They help in cleansing and protection.”
“What about this one?” Kathleen turned another gnarled piece over in her hand. “It looks like driftwood.”
“It is.” Siobhan met her eyes. “Driftwood is a merging of earth and water. Important for this particular cleansing, I think.”
Kathleen blinked and lowered her eyes. “Where do you want these?”
“Place them between the candles in a large circle. I’ll lay out the hemlock and yew.”
Molly straightened. “Aren’t those poisonous?”
“They are, but they’ve powerful magic as well.” Siobhan went to the door, where Blossom lay in the hall watching everything. “I need to close the door. Do you want to be in or out?”
He scrambled into the room, crouching in the corner. Siobhan closed the door and, when everything was laid out, they stepped into the circle. She spread her arms, spinning slowly in place, and the candles ignited.
“Close your eyes,” Siobhan commanded. She murmured words that Kathleen couldn’t make out, but they didn’t sound like English.
A whisper of air moved through the room, swirling around them. Siobhan stepped away, and Kathleen opened her eyes to see her holding a small bundle of bound herbs. She held it to one of the candles until it began to smoke, and then she walked around the interior of their circle, waving the thing to spread the smoke. When she completed her circle, she placed it in a small pewter bowl she’d set in the center. Smoke continued to billow into the room until a haze hung over everything.
“A peaceful death is beautiful, quiet, a last breath that bridges the journey a soul makes from one plane to a first breath in another, like stepping through a door.” Siobhan’s voice was soothing, hypnotic. “But this room, this house, has been tied to a death that was not peaceful. That kind of death leaves an imprint in this realm, like a shadow of something cold and heavy. That oar had to have been imbued with everything Bryan was feeling and thinking as his life ended—his terror, his regret. And by Christine clinging to it, she clung also to all of those negative emotions.”
Siobhan raised her face skyward. “They fill this room. They must be forced to move on, or the negative energy they are intertwined with will continue to feed on those it comes in contact with.”
As if someone had opened the door, the smoke began to swirl and writhe about—a living thing—angry and agitated.
“We free you, Bryan, and you, Christine, of any last anchors that tie you to this realm. Go, be finally at peace.”
Obeying her command, the undulating smoke began to swirl faster. Kathleen felt a brush of air against her cheek, and strands of Molly’s hair blew across her forehead. Siobhan swept her arms toward the open window. With an audible sigh, the smoke drifted through and out. Siobhan closed the window and turned to them.
Molly, her voice trembling, asked, “What in the world was that?”
“That,” said Siobhan, “was the last of the negative energy left behind. It tends to linger, looking for something to latch onto, to feed on.”
She took Kathleen’s hands between hers. “Now, your house is your own.”
Windshield wipers slapped a regular rhythm to swipe away the soft rain as Aidan drove them into the village. It wasn’t crack-of-dawn early, like on marketing days, but Meredith smiled as she saw a few early tourists determined to get out and enjoy the island despite the rain.
“That was us, last summer.”
Aidan reached for her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “But no more.”
She kissed his hand in return. “No more. But that reminds me, by the time we get back from Massachusetts, Jan and Barb will be on their way. Two whole weeks here! Can’t wait to see them.”
He glanced in her direction, his dark eyes holding an anxious expression she’d come to recognize.
“I’ve told you a thousand times,” she said, “and I’ll tell you for the rest of our lives, I’ve never been happier than since we came here. Since I found you.”
“But you left everything,” he countered. “Your job, your friends.”
“I’ve made new friends, and I have a new job. And my old friends are still my friends. I really want them to meet you. I don’t think they quite believe you’re real.”
His mouth curled into an embarrassed grin. “What, exactly, have you told them?”
She laughed wickedly. “Nothing too personal. Just the usual, ‘he looks like Poseidon’, you know.”
He bellowed with laughter. “Poseidon?”
“My own personal god of the sea.”
He parked at the marina. “See you in a couple hours,” he said with a quick kiss.
There was always stuff that needed to be loaded onto the ferry—the island’s garbage or recycling or stuff being shipped to the mainland. That and Aidan did a thorough check of the ferry before every departure. A few ferries had broken down mid-voyage, and he was adamant it wouldn’t happen on his watch if he could help it.
She stood gazing at him as he strode along the dock, until she realized she looked like a fool, standing there with a silly smile on her face.
