Chapter One
Bridget O’Halloran sat on the mossy bank of Killarney Lake, staring through the rain. Ignoring the chill settling into her bones, she waited, her gaze fixed on the water. The rain slowed to a fine misty drizzle and any moment now…
“Merciful heavens,” she whispered. She blinked, but the vision remained. “ ’Tis back.” A tear slid across her cheek and down her neck. She wanted to jump up and spin about dancing with joy, but she did that last time and the vision disappeared. In her heart, Bridget knew she couldn’t afford to throw away another chance.
Kneeling, she closed her eyes and concentrated. “Wish your wish,” she told herself.
The last time the miracle happened, she had taken so long wishing her wish, the magic rainbow had vanished before she could speak. Determination gave her added courage. Even as she whispered the last of her wish, she looked up to make certain the rainbow was still there.
Her chest tightened with awe while a lump of emotion clogged her throat. As she reached out to touch the magic, her fingertips skimmed through the gray-green water, rippling the color. The mystic magic of the rainbow radiated warmth that seeped into her bones. She stirred the water again, captivated by the swirl of color that seemed to continue all the way to the bottom of the lake.
“Bridget O’Halloran,” a breeze whisked past her cheek.
“Wh…what was that?”
The breeze swirled past her cheek again, but this time she felt a teasing touch along the line of her jaw and the soft fluttering of tiny wings.
Faerie wings.
Making a swift sign of the cross, she whispered, “Heavenly Father above, ‘tis them.”
She looked around her, straining to see, but her eyes refused to focus. Poised on the cusp of desperately wanting to believe that she wasn’t imagining them, she prayed with all her might for a miracle.
A distinct rustling off to the left had her turning in time to see a blur of movement.
“I guess faeries don’t really exist.”
She drew in a deep breath, sighed, and turned back around. The lake and the shimmering rainbow formed the perfect backdrop for the dozens of winged faeries hovering in front of her. Clothed in blossoms and snippets of leaves, they were bright and bold as a bed of pansies.
One faerie slowly approached, and Bridget held her breath. When they were nose to nose, the fey creature smiled a slow impish smile. From the top of her ebony head to the tips of her bisque-colored toes, the tiny creature glowed. Bridget shook her head, not certain if her mind was wide-awake or asleep and dreaming.
“Who are you?” she asked the fey being.
“Alainn Ceo.”
“Oh,” breathed Bridget. “Beautiful Mist.”
“Aye,” Alainn Ceo replied with a toss of her ebony mane. “ ’Tis in your favor that you speak the Irish, Bridget O’Halloran.” The faerie paused, adding, “And ‘tis about time you made up your mind.”
The exquisite tiny being looked over her shoulder at the group hovering right behind her. They nodded in unison.
A deep voice rumbled up off the surface of the lake, calling Bridget’s name, beckoning her to come forward. Fear skittered up her spine, and she shook her head.
“Any lass worth her salt would face what she wished for,” the faerie challenged as her eyes narrowed to slivers of emerald. “Need I remind you to have taken care what you wished for, mortal?”
That brought Bridget back to her senses and to her feet. “I know exactly what I wished for,” she said. “I wished for a man to love. One that would be strong and wise and love me forever.”
Pausing, Bridget sighed. “In return, I promised to take care of him, give him bonny babes, and love him always.”
The air crackled between her and the lake. The timbre of the voice, warm and deep, mesmerized her, drawing her toward it. Her curiosity got the better of her. She took the last few steps, dropped to her knees, and leaned over the lake. “Where are you?” she asked. “Show yourself.”
“Open your mind and see with your heart. I am here.” The deep voice wrapped itself about her, its vibration shaking her to the core.
“Well now,” she said, “I’ll try.” She leaned farther forward, precariously balancing on the rim of the lake.
“Aye,” the voice beckoned. “That’s it, lass. Closer.”
The beauty of the rainbow and the voice pulled at her. She inched forward just a bit more and caught a glimpse of a handsome face framed with black curls. He smiled up at her, his deep blue gaze holding her captive.
Her hand slipped, and she plunged over the edge. “Help! Hel—” Bridget’s voice was smothered by the water of the lake as it closed over her head.
***
Duncan Garvey slowed to a crawl to take a long look around him. Some inner urge had him driving out to the lake today. He’d almost turned around, when the sun broke through the clouds, sending golden shafts of light spearing down from the heavens. He parked his car, got out, and stared at the rippling body of water.
Though he’d been to Ireland before, the rain-washed purity touched him deeply. He could almost believe the stories about the magic of the land. The lake lay like a jewel before him. Everywhere he looked, varying hues and shades of emerald abounded, from the verdant hills that rolled into fields of green, to the lofty trees. The beauty of the land grabbed him by the throat and held fast.
Though it was just after noon, he’d already put in a full day at his cousin’s pub. He breathed deeply, staring out over the lake.
A gut-wrenching scream broke through the beauty and silence. He raced toward the sound and reached the edge of the lake in time to watch a woman go under.
He didn’t stop to think. Years of training and instinct kicked in as he dove into the water. The shock of the cold made his head ache and his lungs burn, but he ignored it. Eyes open, he dove deeper, following the faint white of her lacy sweater. Reaching, he latched on to it and yanked her closer.
The weight of his clothes and boots threatened to drag him down, and for a heartbeat he couldn’t move. Then a deep voice echoed through him, “Don’t give up, lad!” He struggled to pull the woman toward the light, breaking through the surface of the water with one powerful stroke. He gasped, breathing deeply, struggling to pull air into his aching lungs.
One look at the pale woman, and he knew time was running out. Her face had a bluish tinge to it. Not good. Definitely not good.
He dragged the waterlogged woman up on to the bank beside him. Turning her onto her stomach, he began to force the lake water up and out of her. She coughed, and it was music to his ears.
What if he hadn’t finished unloading kegs for his cousin ahead of schedule?
What if he’d stayed in town and not driven out to the lake today?
Smoothing the dripping strands of auburn hair off her forehead, he traced the line of her cheek. It was rose-petal soft. His water nymph was a beauty. Even as he thought it, her lashes fluttered open, revealing slightly dazed whiskey-colored eyes.
Though his heart still raced from the affects of the cold water, and fear that he wouldn’t reach her in time, he dug deep for a calm he didn’t feel. Keeping his voice low, hoping to sound encouraging, he asked, “Who are you?”
She drew in a breath to speak and burst into a spasm of coughing.
The dregs of fear combined with temper, and he bit out, “What in God’s name were you doing swimming this time of year?” He glared down at the beautiful, wet woman. She’d stopped coughing and stared at him.
He swore under his breath. “Are you crazy?” Not waiting for an answer, he swept the helpless woman up in his arms and settled her against his heart. Her womanly curves distracted him and he stumbled on a loose rock, as his weak leg gave out.
“Damn.” The injury was still too new to be strong, but he ignored the pain putting her safety first.
The woman in his arms made a soft sound, and he forgot about the pain and looked down.
“Alainn Ceo,” she whispered.
“Alainn?”
She shook her head, and little droplets of icy lake water splashed in his face. “She’s gone.”
Worry lanced through him. Had she been in the water too long without air? Had her mind snapped? “But you’re right here.”
She shook her head a second time. “I’m not Alainn.”
“Then who is?” he asked.
“A faerie.”
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