Seacliff

Chapter twenty-five: A gift from...?

1919

Saoirse saddled gentle old Sasha for the occasion, the mare that had been to war with her. Sasha had survived heroically, overcoming all her injuries and keeping her calm better than any other horse Saoirse had come across on the frontlines.

"That's a good girl." She stroked the horse's cheek. "Mo chailín álainn."

Sasha ate her carrot out of Saoirse's palm before she was taken out of her stall. She'd recovered well, but remained sensitive to loud noises and unfamiliar people. The two of them had a special connection and Sasha seemed most at ease when her mistress spoke Irish to her.

In France, Irish commands from Saoirse worked like magic to pacify the horses. Some had deemed her a witch, but the horses had learned that her presence and her words translated to safety. They understood Irish meant respite.

Saoirse kept a custom-made saddle for Sasha, lighter and more comfortable, to reduce the stress associated with riding out on the battlefield. The sweet mare cooperated without question and they trotted along the winding footpath through the wood. A golden glow stretched across the sky ahead, daylight fading as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sea swallowed it up and glittered like gilded silk, billowing with the wind.

The rugged crag jutting out of the sea broke the smoothness of the sky mirrored in the waves underneath. It stood against the seam between earth and the heavens, like some miraculous gateway, guarded by the lighthouse. You cannot pass...

"Why the 'Selkie Stone,' I wonder?"

Saoirse couldn't even recall the common name of the rock. Her aunt had always referred to it as 'the Selkie Stone' and that title had stuck with Saoirse from childhood. It had befuddled her husband when she'd talked to him about it once.

As a little girl, she used to dream up stories of selkies living on the rock. Now, she was nearly tempted to believe her own fantasies, if it weren't for the lighthouse. Human keepers lived there and the rock had even been a prison at some point. Selkies would never settle on it and risk discovery.

"Do selkies even settle?"

Sorley had talked of his daughters and their mother. But he would mate with a different seal every year. Eachann had been an exception to the selkie norm, in that he'd chosen to stay with a 'mate' who couldn't bear him any children – and was a human, at that! Would Sorley ever return, really? Why would he? It wasn't like –

A frozen claw gripped Saoirse's spine, spreading chills throughout her entire body. She touched her abdomen and glanced up at the crescent moon hovering behind the clouds. She counted the weeks on her fingers. Then she counted them again. Tears sprouted from her eyes, but they were confused tears. Grief and sadness clashed with joy and wonder.

She sobbed in the saddle as she leaned forward and hugged Sasha. How could it be? After all these years, how could it be? Had the sea sent him to her... Had Aoife sent him to her? As the waves had claimed her aunt's ashes, the man who would plant a new life in her womb had washed up at her feet.

Maybe divinity existed. Maybe this was her gift after all the loss she'd suffered. Her reward. A new chance at a family. But...

As the evening darkened, so her hope dimmed. How would she, an unmarried woman, care for and support her child, should she bring it into the world by herself? A world that would not hesitate to shame her, no doubt. What would become of her child in such a world?

Her heart broke at the thought. She needed help. Her troubled mind needed guidance and she only had one friend. Saoirse apologised to her poor mare in Irish, before spurring her into a gallop towards the town. People stared at her as she dashed past, but she paid them no heed.

She dismounted on the front steps of Dr Mortimer's residence and pounded on the door. The housemaid couldn't open it quickly enough.

"Is James home?" Saoirse asked as she barged in. "James!"

"Yes, Dr Mortimer – "

"James!"

"What's all this fuss about?" The man in question was just coming down the stairs, while his unexpected visitor paraded through the hallway. "Saoirse!" He smiled. Then frowned. "Is everything all right?"

"I need to talk to you." She grabbed his hand. "In confidence."

The front door was still open and he spotted the horse outside. "You rode here?"

"Yes, it is quite urgent."

He cleared his throat. "Anna, could you please see to it that... that Mrs Quinn's horse is... seen to?"

"Of course, right away, Dr Mortimer."

"Please be careful," Saoirse warned the maid. "She's... Sasha is a rather nervous mare."

"Worry not, Sister Quinn." Anna rolled up her sleeves. "I grew up around horses."

"Thank you, Anna," James said, grabbing Saoirse's elbow. "This way please."