Chapter 5

As soon as he heard the door click shut, MacCallen eased over and peered out from under his arm to make sure he was alone. With the vigor and agility of a much younger man, he sat up and shoved his pillow behind his back while reaching into his shirt pocket. After one more cautious glance at the door, he opened his fist, smiling as he gently caressed the glowing stone in the center of the ancient locket covered in runes and the elaborate knotwork of old.

"Finally. I have found her," he whispered to the precious thing. He carefully pried it open and blew across the interior, which glowed like a silvery puddle of mercury. "She is the one. Did ye see how she took to the books we chose?"

The locket came to life, warming and emitting a softly pulsing light that grew stronger by the moment. A voice as soothing as a gentle summer breeze and musical as a trickling stream rose from the swirling surface of the locket's interior. "Aye, she loves the sea even though she has never touched the waves. I saw the longing in her golden eyes. Is she the one whose loneliness we heard?"

"The only way for us to know for certain is for me to spend time with her. And to do that, I will have to leave this room and be among the others." MacCallen glanced out the window.

Harley wheeled one of the residents out into the yard, laughing and chatting as she tended to the aging mortal in the wheelchair.

He shook his head and blew out a heavy breath. She had to be the one. Not only did she love the sea, but she possessed more compassion than most mortals he had come across over the centuries. "I will have to go out there. Act like one of them."

The locket fretted at this news, its soft light changing from a silvery blue to a troubled red. "Ye must be careful. Ye know I canna hold this glamour long."

"Aye, but with my help ye can. Trust my powers to strengthen ye in this struggle. If I am but among them for a short while, we should be all right." MacCallen nodded his certainty about the matter as he made himself more comfortable among the pillows.

"Goddess Clíodhna will help us too. She has promised us as much." The aura surrounding the ornate locket shifted back to a peaceful, pale blue.

MacCallen shook his head at the locket. "She will demand a tall price from ye—a boon ye will regret. Never has the sea goddess helped anyone willingly unless there be something in it for her. Ye must choose yer words carefully, lest ye regret the pact ye make."

"We understand each other, she and I," the voice said. "Dinna worry about what is being done." The light from the locket flickered, as though growing weaker. "I must go. Make haste, for we have little time. He will soon be home."

Closing the rich, golden halves of the precious piece of jewelry until they clicked in place, MacCallen wound the heavy linked chain around the locket and tucked it back inside his pocket. He slid out of bed and moved to the chair beside the window to watch Harley and plan his next moves carefully. He had been charged with a duty where there was much at stake, but there was also a great deal to win if he managed everything to his liking. Failure was something he never did, and he was not about start now.

MacCallen slumped lowerin his chair, hoping the old women sitting nearby would offer up some information he could use. It had been his experience that no matter the century, elderly matrons were at their happiest when sharing their opinions of how others should live their lives. He pretended to nap to keep them from curbing their words because of his presence.

"That man was an idiot," the one known as Mrs. Neeley said. "A complete, two-timing fool. Who in their right mind would toss aside a woman like our Harley?" She shook an arthritic finger at her friends while peering around the common room as if planning an escape from the retirement home.

MacCallen did his best not to smile and kept his eyes opened to the narrowest slits to watch them but still appear asleep.

"I heard she caught him with his pants down around his ankles with another woman. Is that true?" The tiniest of the women, the one called Mrs. Thorpe leaned forward in her wheelchair, her oversized glasses sliding down her long nose.

"All true—and on her wedding day no less! Can you imagine how that poor girl must've felt?" The heftiest of the trio, Mistress Olive Johnson scooted to the edge of the couch while reaching for her cup of tea.

"And now she doesn't trust any man. Why—I even tried fixing her up with my youngest son, Gerald, but she said she'd rather get a puppy. Said she could trust a dog's loyalty." Mrs. Thorpe shook her head, then pushed her glasses back up her nose.

"Your Gerald is nearly sixty years old," Mrs. Neeley said. "What would a young girl like Harley want with him?" She sat back in her chair, scowling as she folded her hands in her lap.

"Well, at least she wouldn't be alone anymore." Mrs. Thorpe gave a disgruntled snort, picked up her tea, and settled deeper into the pillows stuffed in her wheelchair. "I caught her when she didn't know I was watching. I've seen the loneliness pouring like a flood out of those golden cat eyes of hers."

MacCallen angled the tilt of his head to better take in every word the women uttered. Their nattering proved that the Harley lass was the one. Why else would Fate provide him with so much information about her and her history with men?

"Matilda, I wish there was something we could do for the poor dear. You know how fond I am of her." Olive reached over and patted Mrs. Thorpe's hand. "But fixing her up with your son is not the answer. That child needs a young man who'll stir her blood."

MacCallen dragged his hand across his mouth to cover his smile. If they only knew, he thought to himself, then stirred and sat up straighter as Harley appeared in the hallway and headed toward him.

"Are you ready to go outside?It's a beautiful day. Why don't we take a stroll, and you can tell me more seafaring tales?"She held out her hand to help him up while tipping her head at the double doors that opened out into the gardens.

"Thank ye, but no, lass. I think I'd best go back to my room. Been up quite a while now. Weary to the bone, I am." He pulled himself up out of the chair and leaned heavily against his three-legged cane.

"Not even just one lap around the gardens? I promise we'll take it slow." She treated him to one of her beguiling smiles while gently but firmly trying to steer him toward the garden doors.

"No, lass. Not today. Besides, I believe I've told ye every tale I know." He pulled his arm free and ambled down the hall toward his room.

Aggravated that their newest resident appeared to be immune to her charms, Harley chewed her lower lip as she watched him turn into his room and close the door behind him. Mr. MacCallen was a puzzle she was determined to solve. It wasn't good for him to isolate himself the way he did. By the strength of his grasp, she didn't believe his weariness excuse for a minute.

"Harley, come over here and sit with us a bit. Leave that stodgy old Scot to himself." Olive patted the cushion on the couch beside her and nodded for Harley to sit.

"What are you ladies up to? You look like you've been plotting." Harley gave the trio her sternest look, knowing it wouldn't work because they were incorrigible. Every one of them looked like a teenager who'd been caught out after curfew.

"We've decided that we're going to help you find someone. You know—fix you up." Matilda Thorpe smiled so widely that the bright pink gums of her dentures showed.

Alarm bells making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, Harley backed away. "Sorry ladies, but I need to check on the dinner menus and make sure we have all the supplies we need." She turned on her heel and nearly ran down the corridor, safely out of range of the plotting matchmakers. The last thing she needed in her life was a man.

"Mr. MacCallen, are you feeling okay?"Harley eased open the door, concerned at the lack of response to her knocking. "Rosa said you didn't eat a bite of the pie I snuck onto your tray."The darkened room and silence concerned her. More than once, she had been the one to discover when a person had passed away."Mr. MacCallen, are you awake?" She held her breath as she eased across the room, hoping for the best.

"Aye, lass.I am awake. Just resting."He shifted positions on the bed, turning toward her.

"Are you all right?"She hurried to the bedside, switched on the softer light over the head of his bed, and gently took hold of his wrist to check his pulse. Slow, steady, and strong. Her heart went out to the poor old soul. Some never adjusted to losing their independence, to life in the retirement home. Some fought it tooth and nail until they died. "What's wrong, Mr. MacCallen? How I can help you? Make life here better for you?"

"Sit with me a while, lass. Here on the side of the bed.Let me tell ye my favorite story about the sea."He patted a spot on the heavy plaid blanket he had brought with him and kept tossed across the bedclothes provided by the facility.

She perched on the edge of the bed, trying not to shake him. Something about him was not right. His color was off no matter what his heart rate told her."I thought you said you didn't have any more sea stories?Were you fibbing to me?"

"Hold out yer hand,"he said with such a weak raspiness that she contemplated pulling the alarm cord hanging beside the bed.

But something about the mysterious shadows in his eyes stopped her. It was almost a pleading look, like a stray animal begging for scraps and a little kindness. She held out her hand and waited. As soon as he took it between both of his, an eerie tingling swept through her as if she had just shoved a metal fork into a light socket. She forced herself not to jump or yank her hand away. Even though it had been quite a jolt, it couldn't be anything more than static electricity. When he released her hand, a heavy locket, the most gorgeous piece of jewelry she had ever seen, was resting in her palm.

"Mr. MacCallen—how beautiful.Did you find this on one of yer voyages? Was it sunken treasure once?"She slowly turned it in her hand, admiring the exquisite workmanship of the piece.Made of what appeared to be heavy gold, the locket was covered in ancient runes and Celtic knotwork, then edged with curls and cusps of metalwork made to look like the waves of the sea lapping around its perimeter.Each link of the heavy gold chain was also decorated with wavelike lines.The face of the locket had a huge moonstone encrusted in its center. As it warmed to her touch, the gemstone glowed brighter.She couldn't remember when she'd last seen such a lovely piece of jewelry.The necklace mesmerized her, hypnotizing her with its rare, unique beauty.

"The Sea God Manannán Mac Lir fashioned this locket for the Goddess Clíodhna. That stone only glows for those who harbor a true love of the sea and for those blessed few, great magic lies within it."He smiled at her, the brilliant blue of his eyes somehow seeming brighter.

She arched a brow as she held the necklace up by the chain."Magic, you say?" Sometimes old folks returned to their childhood beliefs, and she would do nothing to take that joy away from them. "Wouldn't that be something?"What kind of magic? Does it grant wishes or teleport the bearer to another place or time?"

The old man's eyes danced as he pushed himself higher in the bed and leaned toward her. "Legend says if ye hold the locket to yer heart and hold yer deepest desires firm in yer mind, they will come true."

"My deepest desires? My goodness. That's a pretty tall order for such a lovely locket to pull off."She stood and smiled at the gorgeous necklace one last time before returning it to the old Scot.

He gave her a lopsided grin and folded her fingers tightly around it while staring deeply into her eyes."Try it, lass. Where's the harm? Hold it to yer heart.See what wondrous things come to a true believer."

Something about Mr. MacCallen's expression, the strange light in his eyes, made it hard for Harley to breathe—as if the air in the room had gone thick with an eerie uneasiness. She tried to back away only to discover that she couldn't pull free of the old man's powerful grasp.Determined to remain calm, she tried harder to yank her hands free. "It is lovely, Mr. MacCallen. But I need to be going. Let's put the necklace away and get you settled for the night. Okay?"

The aged Scot rose from the bed with amazing ease, transforming from a weak, arthritic old man into a tall, muscular impossibility with pure determination shouting from his very being. He moved to stand in front of Harley while keeping her hands locked in his."It is time, lass.I have come in answer to yer call.It is time for ye to go to the one who needs ye as badly as ye need him."He spun her around and yanked her back against his broad chest while keeping her hands trapped between his.

"This cannot be happening."She should have run as soon as he somehow went from weak and old to young and strong. Panic mounting, she tried to wriggle free. "Enough is enough. Let me go or I'll scream, and Rosa will smack you down like you've never been smacked down before."

His mouth near her ear, MacCallen pressed the locket against her chest and whispered, "Close yer eyes, lass.What is yer fondest wish—yer deepest desire? What have ye called out for all those nights beside the river?"

Harley tried to elbow her way free, but he only tightened his arms around her. She tried to scream, but it came out as a pitiful whisper. The frail old man was long gone, leaving in his place a person impossible for her to escape.

"Who are you?"she weakly rasped. Her heartbeat thundered up into her throat, and her blood roared in her ears.

"Yer guide, lass.I have come to show ye the way.Dinna be afraid. I bring ye no harm."He pressed the locket harder against her chest. The large moonstone dug into her breastbone as if trying to burrow its way into her heart.

Stricken with a nauseating dizziness, Harley tried to scream again, but no sound at all came from her this time. The locket hummed against her, branding her with a strange heat that turned her fears to hysteria.She tried to thrash her head from side to side but found herself unable to move. A searing flash of light blinded her, and a bone-chilling roar deafened her.

I am dying, she thought as the light disappeared and spun her into the suffocatingly silent darkness.

MacCallen smiled down at the locket in his hand. The moonstone glowed with a fiercely bright light.He held it to his ear, and his smile stretched wider at the quiet echo of Harley's pounding heart inside.