Selkie's Song (Fado Trilogy) (22 page)

Muireann sat down next to Walshe’s desk. “I don’t want to ask you to do this if you really think he’ll fire you.” Nevertheless, she was determined to ask anyway.

Walshe picked up a pen and wrote an amount on a sticky note pad. She ripped it off and handed it to Muireann. “Don’t let Feeney know you got this from me, or I’ll be back in Belfast selling sausages out of my father’s butcher shop.”

“Thanks…I owe you.” She got up to leave.

“Oh, and Muireann, one more thing. That fellow, Sloane, he seems to need to sell this place. I got curious and found out some facts. He’s in the process of buying a business in Boston, but he’s under pressure to come up with the money soon. It looks like he’s out of cash and really needs to unload Bertie’s land to break even. Feeney will best your offer by a mile.”

A pain shot through Muireann. She didn’t like to be reminded of how she was going to banjax Tynan’s plans. “Yeah, I guess he isn’t inclined to donate it to my cause.” She didn’t want to hurt Tynan, but this cause was bigger than any one individual. Surely he’d find a way to pay for his project. After all, he hadn’t planned on making a windfall here until Bertie died.

She took another look at the amount Walshe had jotted on the note. “I can handle this. You might say I’ve got an angel helping me.”

Nora bit her lower lip as though trying to stop her mouth from working. “This is a huge breach of confidentiality, but I’m going to tell you anyway. Feeney is determined to have that two hectares. I thought at first he wanted to pave over that plot and make a point about it not being anything special. You know, his people weren’t exactly friendly toward the Irish back in the day. And then there’s the legends—selkies, fairies, pagans—all that. But that’s not the real motivation.”

Muireann held her tongue to keep from saying something in defense of pagans and selkies.

Walshe looked over her shoulder with a nervous glance before she continued. “He has a deal to resell as soon as Sloane signs on the dotted line. And Ian Feeney, the gobshite, stands to make a very substantial profit.”

A cold grip of suspicion coiled in Muireann’s gut. She hated to ask but needed to know what Feeney was planning. “Who is he reselling to?”

“Consolidated Fisheries Consortium,” Walshe whispered. “Industrial fishers. Japanese. They need access to the coast and O’Malley’s land is the last bit standing in the way.”

“No,” Muireann choked. “He can’t. They can’t.”

“Oh, yes, they can. As soon as they have clear title to the place, the road crew will show up and—”

“That’s not possible.” Muireann stopped her. “All the land around it belongs to other people, farmers, fishermen, neighbors I’ve known all my life. They wouldn’t sell out.” Tears threatened and Muireann had to stop herself from screaming.

“All I know,” Walshe said, “is that this Japanese company has more money than anyone’s seen around here in a very long time. People are struggling and who knows what you’d do when pressured like that.”

“If the land is all that valuable, why doesn’t Tynan hold out for more money?”

“Feeney hasn’t told him any of this and he thinks I’m sworn to secrecy. I might have been until last night.”

“I’m countering Feeney’s offer. Don’t let Tynan Sloane come in here and sign papers until you hear from me. Please Nora,” Muireann begged and headed out the door.

****

Ty barely had the patience to wait until noon to call Boston. He felt foolish with a giddy sense of promise. His mind spun and wove threads together in patterns he thought might color the rest of his life.

Muireann.

He loved her. He would have her. He’d decided. He would find other chances to own a pub, but there would not be another Muireann, another woman who could capture his heart and his imagination in her decisive way.

Ty glanced at his phone. The time read seven a.m. Boston time. Flann and Cade were late sleepers and likely wouldn’t answer, but he had made a decision and needed to follow through before he lost his nerve.

He punched in the numbers for his little sister’s mobile.
You’ve reached Flann’s mobile. She’s probably left me in her fiddle case, but if you leave a message, she’ll at least feel guilty about not answering.
Flannery’s voice always brought a smile to his heart. “Flann, pick up, its meself.”

The phone clicked and he heard a scuffle in the background. “Wait, don’t hang up. I’m here,” she shouted breathless into his ear. He waited. “Ty—Oh, damn—Sorry. Feck the stupid thing. Hey, stranger…” Ty was just glad she had a mobile at all. He never expected her to actually answer it.

“Still there? Can ya hear me?”

“Flann, I can hear you just fine. Thanks for picking up,” Ty said through a stifled laugh. “Where are you?”

“Ty, it’s the middle of the night. Where do you think I’d be?”

“It’s past seven, Flann. The sun must be up…even in Boston.”

“Oh, right. It is. Anyway, we’re home. In bed. Cade, wake up. It’s Ty callin’ from Ireland.”

“Put him on, would you?” Ty asked.

“Ha, that’s short shrift. Don’t you want to know what’s been going on here?”

Of course he did. And he’d best listen to her. He wanted her in a good mood when he explained his plans. “How’s my niece-nephew?”

“You won’t believe where we went last night. So I’ll tell you. We were at childbirth class.”

Ty tried to picture this. “I’m impressed. How’s Cade handling it?”

“It was his idea. He’s totally into the whole crazy business.” She laughed and it warmed Tynan’s heart to hear her so ebullient. “I sort of had the idea I’d be in a drug-induced coma for the whole episode.”

He heard a man’s voice in the background. “This is great, Ty. You should try it.”

“We miss you. When ya comin’ home?” Flann asked. “Did you have the fires on St. John’s eve? Did you enjoy the solstice?”

“Flann, too many questions. I miss you too. I’m comin’ home soon and, yes, the bonfire was spectacular.” A memory of Muireann’s naked skin intruded on his thoughts. Then Muireann by firelight, her hair backlit by flames like a pagan goddess. Soon enough he would have to tell his sisters of his current passion. Not yet though. “Put Cade on, will you?”

After a pause, Flann spoke again. “You sound odd. You can’t hide things from me, y’know.”

Ty cleared his throat. No, he couldn’t. “In good time, Butterfly. All in good time.”

Flannery released a big sigh of resignation and then called, “Better talk to my brother. He’s up to something, I can tell.”

“The pregnancy is making her psychic. Spooky, man,” Cade said. “Hey, I can’t keep a secret from her for five seconds.”

“Now you know one more pitfall of marriage to an Irishwoman.” Ty felt a stab of envy for his brother-in-law. Cade had what Tynan dreamed of—a solid bond with a beautiful and creative woman, a baby on the way, a settled but exciting future. Could this happen with Muireann? One thing Ty knew, it would never be dull.

“Sorry to wake you.”

“No problem. In my bachelor days, I’d be outta here by now. Actually, I really need to talk to you.”

That sounded a bit ominous. “What’s up?” Ty ventured to ask and hoped it was not bad news about the family. As quickly, he banished that worry. If one of his sisters so much as stubbed her toe, he would have heard right away. They knew not to keep anything from him. The three had been through much in the last year.

“Jamie’s going ape-shit over the pub sale. I guess the family is putting a lot of pressure on him to close some kind of deal.”

Tynan was afraid it would come to this. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“Look, bro, I can cover your shortfall. If you want O’Fallon’s, you need to act now. The price is only going up.”

Ty knew Cade could come up with the cash in a heartbeat and without putting a dent in his bank account. It just wasn’t right in Tynan’s thinking. He couldn’t justify having his brother-in-law bankroll him. Pride? Sure. And it would be his downfall.

“I know and I truly appreciate the offer, but I’d like to do this on my own…or not at all. I’m not going to clear anything on the land over here.” Life might have been simpler if he’d choked on next words, but fate would not allow it. “I’m going to donate it.”

“Whoa…man, you don’t want to do that. You can’t
afford
to do that.”

Ty knew Cade had a sharp business sense but this was one time his advice would have to go unheeded. “I’d like to save it. It’s…uh…a real pretty spot. Comes right up to the cliffs.”

“Ty, it’s a pile of rubble.” Cade’s exasperation was evident in his raised voice. “Sorry, but it might be your choice of a sea view or O’Fallon’s. I’ve been doing a little side research on that situation and, even in this rotten economy, I think you could make a killing. At least pay the down payment on the pub and have enough left over to make the repairs.”

“Yeah? Who’s got that kind of money today in Ireland?”

“Not the Irish, that’s for sure.” There was a pause. An alarm clock jingled in the background and Flannery sighed dramatically. “Sorry, babe…Yeah, Ty, listen. The interested party is a fishing company, goes by the name Cooperative Fishing Consortium, CFC. They have big bucks and want access to the coastline. That pretty view you admire so much is all that stands in their way.”

“Fishing?” Ty closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“Don’t do anything until you hear from me. I’ll get the Kincade attorneys busy on this right away. I’ll text or email you with the facts.”

Ty stiffened his jaw. “I can’t wait, man.”

“Are you crazy? This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Money like this isn’t gonna be around in the very near future.” Cade’s voice was tight with frustration. “Wait until you hear from me.”

Tynan’s stomach clenched. Industrial fisheries. Muireann’s worst fear. How could he sell to her enemy? Even for a clear title to O’Fallon’s.

“Ty, you there?”

“Right, just thinking.”

“Hey bro, what’s there to think about? This is a killer opportunity here.”

Tynan was torn. This might be the only way to fulfill his plan and have a secure future. But what kind of a future would it be without Muireann?

“Cade, what would you have done, to what extremes would you have gone, to keep Flannery in your life?”

A big, sympathetic sigh crossed the lines from Boston to Ballinacurragh before Cade spoke. “It’s that way is it?”

“Yeah,” Ty confessed. “It’s just like that.”

A painfully long pause hung in the air before he heard Cade’s voice again.

“Promise her the moon, but, please don’t do anything you’re going to regret. Promise?”

“Sure.” Ty had to fess up. “It’s about seals.” As he said it he knew it would take much explaining. At least this was a start.

“Seals? Like…seals? What the hell?”

“Seals?” Flann repeated.

“Trust me on this one. Yeah, seals, the furry kind with flippers, and a selkie…a woman named Muireann O’Malley.”

“Okay, I understand about the woman.” Cade laughed into the phone. “But what the hell is a selkie?”

“A selkie?” Flann squealed. “Ty has a seal woman? This is rich. Who? Tell me now.”

Ty couldn’t help but grin at Flann’s reaction. “Whatever you do, don’t tell my sister.” He knew Cade would immediately tell Flann, and the news would travel through family and friends faster than Jamie could fry a basket of chips.

Chapter Twenty

The main street of Ballinacurragh had taken on a subtle difference when the glass door of the bank closed behind Muireann. Seabirds cut a sharper call through the still air. The thump of boat hulls against the pier were heartbeats loud in her head. The sky was uncommonly bright, scalding her eyes with burgeoning tears.

Cait, broom in hand, chatted in her usual animated fashion with Niabh on the sidewalk in front of O’Malley’s. Declan Conneely fussed over the outdoor fruit and vegetable display at his food market. The populace greeted one another with a hug or a wave. Students strolled lazily toward St. Brendan’s school in the same style of uniform Muireann had worn as a child.

Nothing had changed, but everything was altered just enough to make her world tilt. Of course, no one else would feel the slight change in gravity that weighed her courage.

Blind to her plight, life tracked on for everyone else.

Tynan might see it, feel it, in her. That possibility was doubly distressing. She had almost let herself lose sight of her goals because of a man. Tynan had confused her with his soft caresses, his honesty and gallantry.

Now, she was determined. Her decision had been made and she knew she needed to act on it before she lost her nerve.

Cait and Niabh waved and called, “Good day to you.” Muireann forced a smile and a nod. She didn’t cross the street. Conversation, gossip, and cheery company were not going to help today. They would know something was wrong. She couldn’t hide anything from people who had known her since birth, so she kept her head down and her hands in her pockets as she made her way back to where she had parked her van.

As she came around the corner behind the Bloody Oar, her vehicle came into view. Her head jerked up. Someone was sitting in the passenger seat.

“Oh, shite,” she muttered.

Tynan.

He sat with his long legs stretched out the propped open door. “Good mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted her with a smile which, if not meant to melt her bones, had that effect by default.

Muireann tried to steel herself. She had just decided this was over. It wasn’t like they had anything even approaching a permanent thing here. They’d had a couple of great days, and one spectacular night, together. That does not constitute an affair and certainly didn’t qualify as a relationship.

“Hey, Ty,” she said and searched her mind for an excuse to avoid his attentions. All she wanted to do was get into her van, drive off, and leave him in the dust, but warm current swept her skin as her eyes roved over his broad shoulders and appreciated the way his dark hair had started to curl over the collar of his shirt.

Ty stepped around and opened the driver door for her. “I stopped by your place. You weren’t there, so I walked into town.”

“I was here.” She stumbled over the words as her mouth went dry. She had a sudden, scorching need to remove his crisp white shirt and bite his neck right there where his pulse throbbed below his ear. Instead she settled herself behind the wheel and tried to remember how to start the van and drive. Her hands shook as she searched for the keys. “Keys? Where are my keys?” she mumbled to herself.