She frowned at him. “Are you sure you’re not in cahoots with Irene MacAskill? You sound just like her!”
Her father laughed. “Ah, what can I say? Great minds think alike, don’t they say?”
Molly blew out a breath and pushed her chair back from the table. “I need to think. I’m going to take a walk.”
She stepped outside. The rain was easing, leaving behind a world washed clean and glistening under the emerging sun. Flicking her damp hair out of her face, she put her hands in her jacket and set off, winding down the track that led from the house, across the dunes and down to the harbor where theSelkiewas gently bobbing in the swell.
She climbed aboard and realized the boat had not escaped the storm undamaged. The very top of the mast had broken off and had come crashing down onto the deck, landing in a semi-upright position against the mast and forming a kind of archway.
Molly’s stomach clenched. Brilliant. Absolutely bloody perfect.
The sea—calm once more now the storm was abating—stretched before her, its surface like glass reflecting the scattered rays of sunlight that peeked through the parting clouds. It looked peaceful, but Molly could have shaken her fist at it and shouted curses.
Why? Why did you have to break my mast? Do you know how much this will cost to repair?
It was more money they didn’t have. She slumped down onto the bench in defeat, elbows resting on her knees and hands dangling.
Damn, damn, damn. Couldn’t she get a bit of good luck, just for once?
With a sigh, she stood and walked over to the broken mast.
“Look at you,” she said, running her fingers over the wood of theSelkie’srail. “We’ve been through quite a lot together, haven’t we, old girl?”
She peered through the gap created by the broken-off mast leaning against the base. Her eyes narrowed. There was something there, in the air beneath. Rather than being able to see the sea stretching out before her, the air looked distorted. It swirled and shimmered as though seen through rain-lashed glass. She thought she could see images as well, although she couldn’t make them out.
“What the heck is that?” she murmured. She blinked, shook her head, but the images did not disappear. She thought she made out a high tower, men on horseback, a small boat pulled up at a lonely beach.
Molly squared her shoulders. She felt the chill of the sea breeze on her face as she took a resolute step forward.
What are you doing?she thought. She felt a strange pull towards the images beyond that arch and its presence tingled across her skin like electricity. She took another step forward. She was standing right beneath the broken mast now. The images were so close she could reach out and touch them.
Every life is a collection of choices. Every path is but one step in front of another, and where that path leads is a result of those choices.
Taking a deep breath, Molly stepped through.
Chapter 2
