Page 38 of The Scald Crow
I noticed the intricate Triquetra inked behind his right ear, hidden beneath those copper locks. I had seen the same tattoo on Ciarán.
“What does she do with them? The Faerie lover?” I ran my index finger over my eyebrow, considering the thought.
“They say she takes them back to the Otherworld, where they cannot find peace even in death. Look, could I buy you a beer? Can we go somewhere?” His voice was a soft seduction of luring notes.
I found him hard to resist. Eye candy aside, there seemed more to the affable tree farmer than met the eye.
“I hate beer.” I struggled with his theory. Could I be a Faerie? Faeries had magical powers—magical powers I did not possess.
I gazed into his starry eyes.
“There’s a place nearby. They have a nice selection of wines and good food. Can we go there? There’s so much we need to discuss.” He offered his hand, enticing me to follow. Skilled in the art of persuasion. Hmm.
The moment had lasted too long. Walking away from Colm was the only choice left to me. I rejected his accusations, closing the door on that fairy tale.
His brother, Ciarán, however, left a mystery to unravel on another day.
“Listen up, Colm. I’m all about the Faerie tale, but you and me? That is not going to happen. Make a good life choice, okay? I can almost promise you will never see me again.” I needed time—to think—to process. Call it self-preservation. So why did I feel so sad?
“Calla? Calla, Darling! What are you doing here?” A voice called out, an Irish voice I’d known for as long as forever.
Storey O’Donnell,the Charming Princemy mother called him.
“Storey?” I faced him, engulfed by waves of relief. His presence felt like a warm hug on a cold day. Who’d have thought a familiar face could bring such happiness?
“What great craic.” He swung me into his arms, planting a kiss on my forehead.
I landed on my feet, Storey, my financial advisor…a busy man since my adoptive parent’s untimely demise. And an O’Donnell. I shook my head—another one I could touch yet not see. Maybe Colm was right. For better or worse, my visions centered around death, just death, and only death. The realization freed me in a sick kind of way.
“What are you doing here?” I murmured, turning my gaze toward each man. I noticed the resemblance at once—the high cheekbones, the clear blue eyes.
“How are you, mate? Sad times. Sad times.” He shook Colm’s hand, his voice undulating like the backbone of the surrounding mountains.
He reminded me of what I’d lost.
“It’s good to see you, Storey. Polly said you’d be here.” Colm’s brows creased. “How are you acquainted?” He directed his question at me, his tone flat.
“Storey, you’re coming to the pub?” Breda waved—behind her stood the three black-haired O’Donnell men.
Her approach saved me from answering Colm’s question.
“Of course. Of course. Calla? You’ll come? Say yes, darling. You wouldn’t miss a pub night with the O’Donnell clan, would you? Loads of craic!” He hooked his elbow around mine and almost skipped down the cobbled path. “Feast your eyes on this beauty. Isn’t she stunning?” He extended his long fingers toward a luxury Silver Phantom, glinting in the breaking sun.
Storey’s voice ebbed and flowed, and I was grateful for the distraction. The distance between Colm and me increased with every step, yet our connection endured. I didn’t know what to make of it.
* * *
Colm
I held Mam’s elbow until the last mourner said their goodbyes.
“We’ll be seeing you, laddie.” Eamon tipped his flat cap and climbed into the luxurious backseat of Storey’s vehicle.
Calla and Storey? I wasn’t expecting that. Polly’s conversation floated through my mind—one plus one equals two, and simple logic couldn’t be denied. “It’s about time the boy settled down.” Polly’s voice brimmed with excitement in the kitchen of Mam’s house—something about Storey and a big announcement. I punched the accelerator, passing the Silver Phantom on the next straightaway. One glimpse through the rearview mirror showed Calla’s pretty face in animated conversation.
“Do you have to drive so fast, Colm?” Mam clenched her hands together.
“Put the peddle to the metal, Uncle Colm.” Connor jumped up and down in the backseat, grinning like a mad hatter.
