or otherwise.”
She ran her hands through her hair. “You could be wrong.”
“So could you.”
In the brilliant morning sunshine, her eyes flashed the dazzling azure of a tide pool, nearly taking my breath away.
She stomped her foot. “You’re frustrating, Liam!”
“You’re beautiful, Anna.” Time stopped—as did my breathing.
Oh, God.
I’d done it again. Without waiting for a reaction, I retreated to the other side of the light housing.
Stupid, stupid, impulsive idiot.
She approached from the opposite side of the deck. “I think I know why you do that,” she said with a smile, running her fingers along the rail.
I did too. “Enlighten me.”
“Well, I thought about it a lot last night.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “You’ve never been around a girl, have you? I mean a girl your own age.”
Unwilling to make eye contact, I stared out at the harbor. “No.”
“So, you’re just kind of freaking out because you’r scauwhy e outside your comfort zone. You’ve never been up against the real deal before.”
The real deal.
I smiled in spite of my mortification. “That sums it up well. My interaction with people has been limited, to put it mildly.” No one would dare get near me except my ma and Francine. “I’m way outside of my comfort zone. I apologize.”
“It’s all good. You’ll get better at it.”
“One can always hold out hope for improvement.”
I glanced over and she winked, causing my heart to stutter in my chest.
She spread her palms wide on the railing. “So, why the screaming things? What do they want?”
I was relieved she’d moved the topic away from my faux pas. “The Bean Sidhes wail in mourning for the wrongfully dead.”
She continued to stare out at the horizon. “Like murdered people or something?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, they mourn the murdered.”
“So does everybody here hear them?”
I glanced over. She was leaning forward, eyes locked in the distance, which made it easier to talk to her. “No. Only some people hear them.” If I were lucky, she’d leave it at that.
“Who?”
So much for luck. “Those with ties to the dead.”
She stood up straight. “So, I’m tied to somebody who was murdered?”
“It would appear so.”
“Who?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
She paced in small, agitated circles. “But you hear them too.”
There was no need for acknowledgment. It was a statement, not a question.
Please leave it at that,
I begged inwardly.
She stopped pacing. “Why do you hear them? Who was murdered?”
I closed my eyes and held my breath, willing her to let it go.
“Who?”
I met her eyes directly. “My birth mother.”
“Oh, my God. Your mother was murdered? I’m so sorry, Liam.” She placed her hand on my arm. “You said she died at your birth. Who killed her?”
I stared down at the patch of trees where she had died. Even from this distance, I could spot the simple cedar marker I’d made as a boy to honor her.
I did,
I confessed in my head. It was an answer I prayed Anna never discovered.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us and I was desperate for a change in topic. “I should get down to the shop,” I said.
“But what about your foster father? Won’t he be at the harbor?” Anna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“He’ll most likely be pulling traps by now. I’m surprised he wasn’t out there before daylight.”
“It’s probably because he was hammered.”
My face must have shown my confusion at her words.
“He sounded drunk,” she clarified.
“Ah. Yes. He usually is . . . ‘hammered.’” I moved to the hatch and stepped down onto the first rung.
The strand of hair blew across her face again, and she placed it back behind her ear. “So, can I come with you? I’ve gotta make a phone call.”
She had asked my permission to join me. This had to be the best and most unusual day ever.
“Of course.” I took another step down on the ladder.
She
She ran her hands through her hair. “You could be wrong.”
“So could you.”
In the brilliant morning sunshine, her eyes flashed the dazzling azure of a tide pool, nearly taking my breath away.
She stomped her foot. “You’re frustrating, Liam!”
“You’re beautiful, Anna.” Time stopped—as did my breathing.
Oh, God.
I’d done it again. Without waiting for a reaction, I retreated to the other side of the light housing.
Stupid, stupid, impulsive idiot.
She approached from the opposite side of the deck. “I think I know why you do that,” she said with a smile, running her fingers along the rail.
I did too. “Enlighten me.”
“Well, I thought about it a lot last night.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “You’ve never been around a girl, have you? I mean a girl your own age.”
Unwilling to make eye contact, I stared out at the harbor. “No.”
“So, you’re just kind of freaking out because you’r scauwhy e outside your comfort zone. You’ve never been up against the real deal before.”
The real deal.
I smiled in spite of my mortification. “That sums it up well. My interaction with people has been limited, to put it mildly.” No one would dare get near me except my ma and Francine. “I’m way outside of my comfort zone. I apologize.”
“It’s all good. You’ll get better at it.”
“One can always hold out hope for improvement.”
I glanced over and she winked, causing my heart to stutter in my chest.
She spread her palms wide on the railing. “So, why the screaming things? What do they want?”
I was relieved she’d moved the topic away from my faux pas. “The Bean Sidhes wail in mourning for the wrongfully dead.”
She continued to stare out at the horizon. “Like murdered people or something?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, they mourn the murdered.”
“So does everybody here hear them?”
I glanced over. She was leaning forward, eyes locked in the distance, which made it easier to talk to her. “No. Only some people hear them.” If I were lucky, she’d leave it at that.
“Who?”
So much for luck. “Those with ties to the dead.”
She stood up straight. “So, I’m tied to somebody who was murdered?”
“It would appear so.”
“Who?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
She paced in small, agitated circles. “But you hear them too.”
There was no need for acknowledgment. It was a statement, not a question.
Please leave it at that,
I begged inwardly.
She stopped pacing. “Why do you hear them? Who was murdered?”
I closed my eyes and held my breath, willing her to let it go.
“Who?”
I met her eyes directly. “My birth mother.”
“Oh, my God. Your mother was murdered? I’m so sorry, Liam.” She placed her hand on my arm. “You said she died at your birth. Who killed her?”
I stared down at the patch of trees where she had died. Even from this distance, I could spot the simple cedar marker I’d made as a boy to honor her.
I did,
I confessed in my head. It was an answer I prayed Anna never discovered.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us and I was desperate for a change in topic. “I should get down to the shop,” I said.
“But what about your foster father? Won’t he be at the harbor?” Anna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“He’ll most likely be pulling traps by now. I’m surprised he wasn’t out there before daylight.”
“It’s probably because he was hammered.”
My face must have shown my confusion at her words.
“He sounded drunk,” she clarified.
“Ah. Yes. He usually is . . . ‘hammered.’” I moved to the hatch and stepped down onto the first rung.
The strand of hair blew across her face again, and she placed it back behind her ear. “So, can I come with you? I’ve gotta make a phone call.”
She had asked my permission to join me. This had to be the best and most unusual day ever.
“Of course.” I took another step down on the ladder.
She
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