Read Online The Selkie Enchantress by Sophie Moss - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sophie Moss
Ads: Link
She’d forgotten to bring in the wind chimes and they spun around in frantic circles, their strings tangling in the wind. Glancing out her window at the white caps chopping over the surface of the ocean, she frowned. There was no way the ferry was going to be able to make the crossing in this weather. Which meant Liam wasn’t going to be able to make it to his appointment with the neurologist.
He might have thought he fooled her last night, but she knew better. He’d forgotten more than just their date. He’d forgotten the details of his latest research project. And that wasn’t like Liam. She started to put away the dishes from last night. Plates and glasses clicked against each other as she fit them back into the tightly packed shelves above the sink.
There was nothing Liam took more seriously than his research. He could overlook trivial things—the leaking pen in his pocket, the screw slipping out of his glasses, the tie he was supposed to bring to a presentation—but he wouldn’t forget the details of a research project. Especially one he’d hinted at so often in their recent phone conversations. Caitlin paused in the middle of putting a bowl away. How odd that he would forget both of those things.
The wind howled, rattling the windows, and she lifted up on her toes to prop the bowl up on the tallest shelf. No, that was ridiculous. What Liam needed was to get to a neurologist. Not have his friends throw him a party and set out trinkets to help him remember. She’d thought for a second she caught a glimmer of recognition in his eyes after he spilled the sand, but maybe she’d been kidding herself.
At the knock on the door, she tossed the dishrag in the sink and crossed the room. She pulled the door open and stepped back, surprised. “Owen?” He was soaked through, not wearing a raincoat or carrying an umbrella. “Come in, come in.” She ushered him inside. “What are you doing out in this mess without a rain jacket?”
He stepped into the warmth of her cottage, dripping all over the floor. “I haven’t got a rain jacket.”
She grabbed a bath towel and handed it to him. She watched him ball it up awkwardly, patting his arms and, sighing, she took it back and scrubbed it over his wet hair and dried his face and neck. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s home.”
“She lets you wander off in a storm like this?”
“She’s writing a song. She always wants me gone when she’s writing a song.”
“I see,” Caitlin said, taking the towel back and hanging it over the shower. But she didn’t see. What kind of mother let her child run off in the rain in the dead of winter? “Come over and sit by the fire. I’ll make you some tea.”
He crossed the room, drifting over to the bookshelves and poking his fingers into some of the books. He frowned as he slid them back in place. Caitlin watched him curiously as she set the kettle of water on the stove to boil. “What brings you around this morning?”
He slipped his hands in his pockets, guiltily. “I wanted to see the story again. The one Kelsey showed me last night. The one about the mermaids.”
“ The Little Mermaid ?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“I wanted to look at it again. I liked it.”
Caitlin slipped into her bedroom and pulled the story out of the top drawer of her bedside table, the drawer where she kept her most special things. She walked back out into the living room and handed it to him. “There was another boy who favored this story a long time ago. When he was about your age.”
Owen took it from her hands and settled into the chair closest to the fire. He opened the book, flipping through the pages and savoring the pictures. “Was it the man I rode the ferry in with? The one with the black hair who was here last night?”
Caitlin lifted a brow as the tea kettle started to hiss. “Yes. How did you know that?”
“I saw him looking at it last night.”
“Did you?” Caitlin asked, studying him curiously. She noticed
He might have thought he fooled her last night, but she knew better. He’d forgotten more than just their date. He’d forgotten the details of his latest research project. And that wasn’t like Liam. She started to put away the dishes from last night. Plates and glasses clicked against each other as she fit them back into the tightly packed shelves above the sink.
There was nothing Liam took more seriously than his research. He could overlook trivial things—the leaking pen in his pocket, the screw slipping out of his glasses, the tie he was supposed to bring to a presentation—but he wouldn’t forget the details of a research project. Especially one he’d hinted at so often in their recent phone conversations. Caitlin paused in the middle of putting a bowl away. How odd that he would forget both of those things.
The wind howled, rattling the windows, and she lifted up on her toes to prop the bowl up on the tallest shelf. No, that was ridiculous. What Liam needed was to get to a neurologist. Not have his friends throw him a party and set out trinkets to help him remember. She’d thought for a second she caught a glimmer of recognition in his eyes after he spilled the sand, but maybe she’d been kidding herself.
At the knock on the door, she tossed the dishrag in the sink and crossed the room. She pulled the door open and stepped back, surprised. “Owen?” He was soaked through, not wearing a raincoat or carrying an umbrella. “Come in, come in.” She ushered him inside. “What are you doing out in this mess without a rain jacket?”
He stepped into the warmth of her cottage, dripping all over the floor. “I haven’t got a rain jacket.”
She grabbed a bath towel and handed it to him. She watched him ball it up awkwardly, patting his arms and, sighing, she took it back and scrubbed it over his wet hair and dried his face and neck. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s home.”
“She lets you wander off in a storm like this?”
“She’s writing a song. She always wants me gone when she’s writing a song.”
“I see,” Caitlin said, taking the towel back and hanging it over the shower. But she didn’t see. What kind of mother let her child run off in the rain in the dead of winter? “Come over and sit by the fire. I’ll make you some tea.”
He crossed the room, drifting over to the bookshelves and poking his fingers into some of the books. He frowned as he slid them back in place. Caitlin watched him curiously as she set the kettle of water on the stove to boil. “What brings you around this morning?”
He slipped his hands in his pockets, guiltily. “I wanted to see the story again. The one Kelsey showed me last night. The one about the mermaids.”
“ The Little Mermaid ?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“I wanted to look at it again. I liked it.”
Caitlin slipped into her bedroom and pulled the story out of the top drawer of her bedside table, the drawer where she kept her most special things. She walked back out into the living room and handed it to him. “There was another boy who favored this story a long time ago. When he was about your age.”
Owen took it from her hands and settled into the chair closest to the fire. He opened the book, flipping through the pages and savoring the pictures. “Was it the man I rode the ferry in with? The one with the black hair who was here last night?”
Caitlin lifted a brow as the tea kettle started to hiss. “Yes. How did you know that?”
“I saw him looking at it last night.”
“Did you?” Caitlin asked, studying him curiously. She noticed
Similar Books
