Call Home the Heart (32 page)

Read Call Home the Heart Online

Authors: Shannon Farrell

Tags: #Romance, #Love Stories, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Call Home the Heart
12.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

It stretched for miles, a golden strand, with seaweed, the valuable
sea sticks, and some seashells the only items marring its smooth
surface.

 

 

Muireann took off her boots and stockings, and hitched up her skirts
to above her knees, enjoying the cool, smooth feeling of the sand
between her toes. Tadhg, who had accompanied them, sitting on her
lap obediently for almost the whole journey, sported himself by
chasing the surf, and after a time, he even copied his mistress and
began fetching sea sticks to drop on the pile.

 

 

He also proved to be an excellent winkler and whelker, for as the
sun rose high in the sky and the tide began to go out, Lochlainn
suggested they collect some shellfish for their meal.

 

 

Using her shawl tied around her waist as an apron, she and Lochlainn
collected winkles, cockles, whelks and mussels. Lochlainn set a
small fire going with some of the flotsam that had been cast further
up the beach. Muireann had had the foresight to bring a small
saucepan in a bag she had slung over one shoulder, and some fresh
water drinking water and few wooden bowls and spoons.  The
three of them shared the meal, with Muireann and Lochlainn chatting
about all they had seen so far that day.

 

 

"The
Andromeda
is a fine ship."

 

 

"It is indeed. We'll be able to do wonders with it. You know,
Lochlainn, I really am beginning to feel as if our luck might be
changing after all."

 

 

"I certainly hope so." He smiled down at her, and patted the jolly
little pup on the head to hide his emotions.

 

 

After they had finished their meal, they gathered sea sticks for
another hour, but as the weather turned warmer, Muireann suddenly
stripped off her black and burgundy checked gown, and all of her
underclothes except her petticoat and chemise, and charged into the
surf. Tadhg the terrier charged after her, wondering what new game
his mistress was playing now.

 

 

She hit the water with a gasp, and then began to paddle even further
away from the shore.

 

 

"Muireann, it's freezing! Come out of there!" Lochlainn called,
standing at the water's edge in his bare feet.

 

 

He was afraid Muireann would drown, but a few strokes told him she
swam as well as she did everything else.

 

 

He watched the graceful naiad in the water for a few minutes until,
with a sigh, he stripped off all his clothes and thundered naked
into the chilly surf.

 

 

"I was wondering if you could swim," she laughed.

 

 

"Only with great difficulty," he admitted, as he stopped at the
point where he could still comfortably touch bottom with his feet if
he needed to.

 

 

Muireann swam up to him and kissed him. It wasn't long before they
were scurrying for the privacy of a sand dune, leaving Tadhg playing
contentedly on the beach in the tide.

 

 

Their lovemaking was urgent and desperate, full of the fear of
discovery, and enhanced by the excitement of their being able to see
each other's responses clearly in the broad daylight.

 

 

The sand and icy water had set their skin tingling, and every caress
of their hands was like sweet torture. He stroked her breasts and
belly and rolled her under him, entering her with one sure thrust.
More eager than ever, Muireann climaxed almost instantly, with
Lochlainn following just behind.

 

 

"This is bliss," she purred when she had calmed. She rubbed her
cheek against his damp chest, snuggling up to him like a contented
cat.

 

 

"That's one of the things I always hate about the beach."

 

 

"What, making love in the dunes?" she teased.

 

 

"No, getting sand all over."

 

 

Lochlainn blushed as she tried to dust off his more intimate areas,
and felt his arousal burning within and without.

 

 

She kissed him, but as much as she wanted to make love with him
again, duty called.

 

 

"Come on. We'll go for another swim to wash ourselves off, and get
back to the sea sticks."

 

 

"But you'll freeze in those wet things," Lochlainn worried.

 

 

"I have my very own bundle of tricks. I got some clean linen from
your sister for you, and brought some myselfin my bag. So let's get
washed and changed, and go gather up another few bunches. After all,
we need the fertilizer. And remember, the others will be here soon
enough."

 

 

The joy of the moment was thus lost, and though Lochlainn tried to
recapture it with a warm, rousing kiss, there was work to be done.

 

 

The hours flew by faster than he had ever known. He loved being
alone with her, chatting to her about her childhood memories and
experiences, and her life in Scotland. At one point she remarked as
she stooped for more sticks to add to her pile, "But you never talk
about yourself, your childhood. Was it so bad?"

 

 

Lochlainn thought carefully before replying. "It was hard, I have to
say. My aunt sewed for a living. It was a nightmare for her to try
to feed the three of us at times. I also know she never got married
because no one wanted the responsibility of looking after us."

 

 

"It must have been terrible, that sensation of being unwanted."

 

 

He nodded.  "It was. Ciara and I were close when we were
younger, but once we were both marrying age, well, she changed."

 

 

"In what way?" she asked, looking at him directly.

 

 

His gray eyes reflected the pain of the recollection. "I don't know.
She acted like I wasn't good enough for her any more. She put on all
sorts of fancy airs and graces. She lost her happiness somehow, her
joy of living."

 

 

She was surprised at his description of his sister. "I must admit
it's very difficult to imagine her happy, if even something as
simple as a little puppy like Tadhg can send her into fits."

 

 

Lochlainn shook his head then. "We seem to do nothing but talk about
things which cast a pall over the day. Why don't we play a game
instead?"

 

 

"What would you like to play?"

 

 

"Authors to start with, and then perhaps quotations?" he suggested.

 

 

"All right," Muireann assented. They passed the rest of the
afternoon agreeably playing games and singing songs.

 

 

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Muireann said, "I think it's
about time we got supper started, don't you? It'll be getting dark
soon, and we'll need more firewood and a nice place to bed down for
the night."

 

 

"You go gather more winkles. I'll get the firewood and set up camp."

 

 

Muireann was able to produce a sumptuous meal with what she had
gleaned from the sea, and the items she had brought in her small
bag. They ate bathed in the rosy light of the setting sun, and she
had never felt more content.  They even finished off their meal
with a cup of coffee each.

 

 

"My little contribution to the supper," he said, offering her the
brown paper package. "I bought another pack out of all the things
going to the market today."

 

 

"I hope they got a good price for the other things."

 

 

"Well, you can ask them yourself," he said. "It sounds like they're
on their way."

 

 

Patrick and Siobhan saw the cooking fire glowing in the distance,
and pulled the wagon right up onto the beach in front of them.

 

 

"It will help act as a windbreak to keep the sea breezes off us,"
Patrick explained as he jumped down off the box.

 

 

"There's some supper here if you want it," Muireann offered.

 

 

"It smells good," Siobhan said with an appreciative sniff, shaking
her auburn hair back from her face as a gentle wind tossed it to and
fro.

 

 

"Well, you'd better hurry before the whelks turn too chewy, or Tadhg
eats every last one of them." Lochlainn laughed as the dog's bearded
muzzle probed the saucepan.

 

 

All four of them discussed their different experiences in Donegal
Town, until Lochlainn rose and stretched.

 

 

"Well, if you'll excuse us, I'm sure Muireann has had a very long
day, so we're going to bed down behind that sand dune."

 

 

Muireann blushed, but took the hand he held out for her. With Tadhg
bounding along behind, they sought their own private corner of the
beach. They lay on their backs in each other's arms watching as
millions of stars came out overhead.

 

 

Lochlainn impressed her with his knowledge of the names of the
different constellations, pointing them out to her between kisses.

 

 

Muireann thought she had never spent such a perfect day. As
Lochlainn's mouth found hers for a deep, deep kiss, she melted in
his embrace, surrounding his body as he surrounded hers.

 

 

Wherever he is
, she thought
at the back of her mind,
is my
home
.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

 

 

Muireann's four days and nights on the beach at Rossnowlagh did her
a world of good, but it seemed as if the time just flew by. All too
soon they had to return to Barnakilla with the carts laden with
their valuable cargo.

 

 

Gathering the sticks and seaweed to dry and prepare for fertilizer
had certainly been hard labor, but working by the sea in the fresh
air, and eating the bounty they took from the ocean, had at least
put some color back into Muireann's cheeks.

 

 

The sea breezes had allowed her to sleep more soundly than ever
before, and Lochlainn was delighted that she never seemed to have a
single nightmare any more.

 

 

On their last day, Muireann stood by the water's edge, letting the
surf lap between her toes as she watched the breakers roll in.

 

 

"We can always come back, you know," Lochlainn said softly as he
came up behind her and wrapped her in his enveloping cloak,
protecting her from the chill wind with his warm, strong body.

 

 

"I know. It's just sad that it has to come to an end," she sighed.
"Tadhg loved the beach, and it was fun, swimming, playing in the
dunes, sleeping under the stars, wasn't it?"

 

 

"For you perhaps. You could teach a mermaid how to swim."

 

 

"You're getting better all the time," she said sincerely. "We can
continue your lessons once we get back to Barnakilla. But Lochlainn,
I've been thinking . . ."

 

 

Lochlainn's face fell. He knew what she was going to say before she
even said it. She was leaving him.

 

 

The catch in his voice seemed painfully obvious to him as he asked,
"Thinking about what, my dear?"

 

 

"I know we're doing well, but I really think I should go to Dublin
to investigate the house at St. Stephen's Green, and see if I can
sell it."

 

 

His heart pounded in his chest. She was going back to the city. Then
back to Scotland.

 

 

"Do you want me to come with you?" he dared to ask, though he was
certain of the answer. No. She didn't want him. Not any more.

 

 

"No, because I would have to be away for some time, consulting with
Anthony Lowry about the legal documents and so on, and--"

 

 

I understand," he said curtly. He couldn't bear listening to any
excuses. Not now, not after the most perfect four days. After all
they had just shared, it seemed an even more cruel betrayal than the
one committed by Tara.

 

 

"Where would you stay?" he asked after a time.

 

 

"Anthony Lowry has kindly offered to put me up in his house in
Harcourt Street."

 

 

Lochlainn scowled. "And is he married?"

 

 

"He's engaged to be married. It's all perfectly respectable. He has
a housekeeper to look after things for him, so we would be
chaperoned."

 

 

"I see. You seem to have all the details worked out perfectly. I
imagine you've been planning this trip for some time."

 

 

"No, not exactly," she denied, wondering why he suddenly seemed so
gloomy. Offended, even.

 

 

Lochlainn swallowed audibly.  "When would you leave?"

 

 

"Soon enough. The end of the month, perhaps."

 

 

"After your birthday?" Lochlainn asked, allowing himself a small
glimmer of hope. Perhaps if he had enough time, he could convince
her to stay?

 

 

"Aye, after my birthday."

 

 

"You'd also have to preside over the May Day festivities. And
there's the shearing coming up," he reminded her, trying to think of
any excuse to keep her with him a bit longer.

 

 

"Yes, of course." Muireann smiled. She herself was not terribly
anxious to go, and she hated leaving any unfinished business behind.
"There's no hurry. The middle of May will be time enough, won't it?"

 

 

"Aye, it will be, indeed," he replied, hugging her close, glad she
couldn't see the haunted expression in his eyes.

 

 

Then he released her, and took her by the hand. "Come, my dear.
Barnakilla beckons."

 

 

She cast one last wistful look down the golden strand, and allowed
herself to be led away.

Other books

Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen by Gretchen de la O
Angels Watching Over Me by Lurlene McDaniel
Carole Singer's Christmas by Harvale, Emily
Indian Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs
Best Kept Secret by Amy Hatvany
Breath of Fire by Liliana Hart
Pop by Gordon Korman
Combat Crew by John Comer