Surrendering (Swans Landing) (10 page)

“I just wish I could have known what he was thinking,” I whispered.

Mara leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine. I let myself give in to her kiss, pushing away thoughts of my parents and everyone else. I wanted this moment, this time we had to ourselves.

She reached behind her and unlocked the door to her house. It was dark. Her dad was probably already out at his station at the beach for the night watch. We stumbled through the doorway, our lips never breaking the hungry kiss.

I pushed her against the wall, one hand slipping under her shirt to touch the soft skin of her stomach. She sighed softly and pressed against the back of my head, pulling me into her like she couldn’t get close enough to me.

“What do you see when you hear the song?” Mara asked, her lips close to my ear. She hummed a few notes of the water song, causing gold bursts to erupt along the edges of my vision.

“You,” I told her. “Always you.”

But when I glanced to the side, where the gold bursts were strongest, the hazy form I saw there wasn’t Mara, but a face I had only seen in photographs.

My father.

I stepped back, wrenching my hands from Mara’s body. My pulse throbbed throughout my body. I felt the absence of her as if part of myself had been torn away.

Mara blinked at me, her lips swollen and her eyes shining in the dim room. “What is it?” she asked, panting a little.

I scrubbed at my eyes, trying to chase away the remains of the song’s effects. “I should go,” I said.

Mara looked at the door, then at the darkened room behind us. “You don’t have to. Lake won’t be back until morning.”

Her tone held the promise of something I had only imagined happening. I couldn’t deny that I wanted nothing more than to stay with her all night. My entire body ached with the need to stay.

But Lake’s words echoed in my head.
Sometimes you don’t think about the consequences before you act. You don’t think about how hard it might be later.

It was already hard enough right now. I didn’t want to mess things up. I didn’t want to repeat mistakes my dad had made by jumping into things without thinking.

I kissed her softly, then pulled away. “No,” I said. “I should go.”

She leaned against the door as I descended the stairs. I paused and sucked in a deep breath of cool air, then let it out slowly, watching as my breath mixed into the mists in the air. I must have been insane or stupid. Possibly both. My body screamed at me to go back to her, even as my head told me that I had the same blood as my father and would make the same mistakes he did.

Don’t walk away from this chance, Canavan,
a voice in my head said. When would Mara and I have a night alone like this again? If I walked away now, I knew I would regret it tomorrow. If Mara ran to Dylan because I blew her off at a moment like this, I wouldn’t even blame her.

But I couldn’t hook up with Mara now, when my mind was too preoccupied. I wanted to be sure, I wanted to know that it was right. I didn’t want it to be something we did just because we were afraid we wouldn’t have the chance again, or because I was trying to prove something to myself.

I didn’t want it to be hard later. When it happened, I wanted no consequences, no regrets for both of us.

Mara still stood in the doorway at the top of the steps. I gave her one last wave, then I forced myself to walk away.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The house was quiet when I walked in, which wasn’t unusual. I was getting used to the quiet around the Mooring house.

I peeked into the hall and saw the doors of the three bedrooms were all shut. There was light coming from the crack under Sailor’s door and I could hear her muffled voice drift toward me, followed by Callum’s. I could only imagine what they might be doing in there, locked away with no supervision.

In the living room, I flopped down onto the couch and sighed. How was it fair that Sailor could move her boyfriend into her house while Mara and I had to keep our distance? I wondered what Miss Gale would think about Callum staying there if she were well enough to notice. Maybe I should tell her what was going on.

No, I wouldn’t do that. It was Sailor’s business, and if she wanted her boyfriend or whatever Callum was to her in her room, then why should I care? She always did what she wanted anyway.

I bit my lip, feeling guilty about that thought. Sailor was still my half-sister. She had always been the one person who was there for me, who accepted me as I really was.

A sound at the front door startled me. I waited, straining my ears to listen. There it was again. A footstep, just outside the front door.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I didn’t know if it was Domnall and the finfolk or else Mr. Connors sneaking around the house again, but neither was a good option.

I tiptoed across the room, slipping up to the wall next to the door. I peeked out the window at the front of the house, but I didn’t see anyone. My body was rigid, my legs tensed to spring at the first sign of trouble. I needed a weapon. A bat or something. An umbrella stand sat in the corner behind the door and I carefully eased a green umbrella from the group, wielding it over my head like a club.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the knob and snatched the door open, letting out a choking growl when I saw a figure standing on the front stoop.

“It’s me, boy!” a voice growled from behind the raised hands.

I lowered my umbrella, blinking as my gaze took in Mr. Moody huddled away from me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I tossed the umbrella aside, feeling silly for carrying it.

Mr. Moody scratched at his chin. “I came to see Gale. Like Sailor told me I should.”

“It’s kind of late,” I pointed out.

Mr. Moody looked up at the night sky, like he had just noticed the darkness around him. “Oh. Right. I can come back tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay.” I stepped back to let him in. “Miss Gale is in bed, but you can go see her. She’s always in bed these days.”

Mr. Moody stood just inside the door, looking around the house like he was far outside of his comfort zone. His eyes took in the crystals hanging from the skylights over us and then the blue walls. He dug his hands deep into his pockets.

A step in the hallway caught my attention and I turned to see Sailor, with Callum right behind her. Sailor’s mouth fell open when she spotted Mr. Moody.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Mr. Moody cleared his throat. “I, uh, I came to see your grandma.”

Sailor scowled. “Why?”

Mr. Moody scratched his chin. “I thought I’d take your advice.”

Sailor stepped forward, but kept the island counter between herself and her grandfather. “No, I mean, why
now?
All these years and you’ve never come. Now she’s sick and suddenly you want to be here?”

Callum put a hand on Sailor’s shoulder, but she didn’t acknowledge him.

Mr. Moody’s beard twitched as he swallowed. “I’ve always wanted to be here, Sailor.”

Her eyes turned glassy as she looked at him. “Then why weren’t you?”

“Sailor,” Callum said soothingly as he rubbed his hands over her arms. “You should lie down for a while. You’re tired and you could use a good rest.”

Sailor glared across the room at her grandfather, who rubbed at his chin, his gaze on the floor. Finally he lifted his eyes to her and said, “I’m only human, Sailor. I make mistakes. But I’m not the only one.”

Callum whispered in Sailor’s ear and she let him pull her away from the counter. They disappeared back down the hall and then a moment later, I heard the click of her bedroom door closing again.

I shoved my hands deep into the pocket of my hoodie. Mr. Moody exhaled a long, ragged breath. He didn’t speak and the silence grew thicker as minutes passed.

Finally, I dared to speak. “Do you want me to see if Miss Gale is awake?” I asked.

Mr. Moody nodded. “That would be good, son. Thank you.”

He followed me as I walked down the hall to Miss Gale’s room. There was no light coming from under Sailor’s door. Maybe Callum had convinced her to lie down. She was on edge a lot lately. I didn’t know if it was just the lingering exhaustion from our long swim or the stress of waiting for something to happen. Or maybe it was the situation she had gotten herself into with Callum and Dylan.

I tapped softly on Miss Gale’s door as I opened it. The room was dark and still. I could make out the shape of Miss Gale on the bed, but she didn’t respond when I called her name.

“I think she’s asleep,” I told Mr. Moody. I motioned for him to come in. “But she probably wouldn’t mind if you woke her.”

Mr. Moody walked across the room slowly, as if it was hard to get one foot in front of the other. His back was stooped more than usual and he reached out a trembling hand toward Miss Gale when he reached the bed. He looked at her for a moment, his beard twitching as he pressed his lips together.

I started to back out of the room, but he said, “You don’t have to go, boy. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Mr. Moody sat down in the chair next to the bed, which Sailor or Coral usually occupied. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself, so I stood near the door, my hands in the pockets of my hoodie.

Mr. Moody didn’t speak for a long time. He just sat there, looking at Miss Gale as she slept. Her soft breathing was the only sound in the darkened room.

“If she were awake,” Mr. Moody said at last, “she’d tell me I was an old fool.” He laughed a little. “Just like she always does.”

I smiled. I knew Miss Gale enough to know that she always said what was on her mind, no matter what it was. She’d tell you honestly how she felt about you.

“Maybe I am an old fool,” he continued. “Maybe that’s why I’ve never stopped loving her, even when she told me I shouldn’t.” He stroked her long white hair, a small smile on his face. “Did you know, boy, that I asked her to marry me?”

“No,” I said softly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve asked her that question probably a hundred times over the last forty years.”

Ouch. Poor guy. “She always says no?” I asked.

Mr. Moody shook his head. “She’s never said yes or no. She just always tells me that she can’t let me tie myself to her with the life she lives. She doesn’t want me to watch her going into a world I can’t follow.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “But I’m still here, Gale, and I’m still waiting for an answer.”

If this were a movie, one of those cheesy happily ever after things, Miss Gale would have woken up right then and told Mr. Moody that she would marry him.

But it wasn’t a movie, and Miss Gale’s eyes stayed closed, her breathing even and soft.

“I am an old fool,” Mr. Moody said. “For her. Always for her.”

I swallowed as I watched him gaze at her. His eyes had this look like he had never seen anyone else as beautiful as her. Even after forty years of pushing him away, his love had never faded.

It gave me hope to know that sometimes even our own actions couldn’t destroy a love like that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Callum Murchadh?” the nurse called, butchering the pronunciation of his last name. She looked up from the file folder, raising her eyebrows at the three of us.

Sailor and I helped Callum to his feet and across the waiting room toward the door into the exam area. Other people slumped in the chairs around the waiting room, their gazes following as we moved. An old man coughed, wheezing loudly in the otherwise silent room. A little girl lay across three seats, her face pale and her breathing heavy.

Callum eased himself onto the examination table, his wooden leg tapping against the metal as he moved.

“Doctor Hansen will be with you soon,” the nurse told us as she backed out of the door, as if she couldn’t move fast enough.

Sailor sat down in the only available chair, while I leaned against the wall, my arms crossed.

“I’ll be glad to get rid of this bloody thing,” Callum said, glaring down at his wooden leg. “Hopefully this doctor of yours can give me a real prosthetic.”

“Doctor Hansen is the best doctor on the island,” I told him.

“The
only
doctor on the island,” Sailor said with a smirk.

I nodded. “That too.”

“Is she…” Callum frowned, his forehead creasing. “How does she feel about finfolk?”

Sailor and I exchanged a glance. Honestly, I didn’t know. I had always been to her pretending to be human. I had no experience with Dr. Hansen’s opinions on finfolk.

“I guess we’ll see,” I said as the door opened.

Dr. Hansen was in her mid-forties, with sandy blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She smiled awkwardly at us as she closed the door behind her.

“Hello,” she said, extending a hand toward Callum. “I’m Dr. Hansen.”