A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,45

audience for her music.

And then they'd dropped her headfirst into a pot of boiling water.

She resisted the urge to stomp on the gas pedal any harder. Her mission was escape, not suicide.

Another mile of desolate coast streamed by, the emptiness gradually soothing the wild beast clawing in her chest. Cass reached up a hand to make sure her ears were still attached - and then, with a sigh, rolled up the windows.

A forty-four-year-old woman could only throw a tantrum for so long. And even if her ears didn't need it, the car's snazzy red leather interior probably didn't appreciate the frozen, pelting salt.

The sudden quiet assaulted her - and let the mind garbage she'd been trying to blow away come rolling back.

Sophie's gentle, insistent offers of friendship and the unspoken pleas on behalf of her beautiful boy.

Cass had no idea how to help him - just the pressing feeling that she should.

Kevin, and his mute desire to learn how to play.

And the man with the gruff manners and the gentle soul. Such a mass of contradictions. Rosie's music had pulled him into the room, but his eyes had blazed with the need to run. Fierce and proud - but a simple touch had scared him silly.

A man who invited no one into his life. And she had the insane urge to push her way in anyhow.

Dammit, she was a musician. A free spirit who had been happy wandering the roads for twenty-six years. A woman who had chafed under the pressures and demands and commitments of a close-knit community in a land not so very different from this one.

The music that surged in her veins didn't leave room for a life like that.

Tears pricked Cass's eyes again. And this time, she knew they needed release. With the exaggerated care of someone toppling-over drunk, she pulled over to the side of the road. Not that it mattered - she hadn't seen another car in more than an hour.

Stumbling, vision blurred, she headed across the rocks to the lonely beach.

Solitude. Not an easy thing to come by in the tiny village by the sea. They lived together, ate together, chased small children together.

Did magic together.

She'd felt that awesome communion with others before. Musicians - good ones - did it all the time. It was a big piece of what pulled her back to Margaree for three weeks every year.

And a big part of what chased her away the other forty-nine. Music didn't share like that. Not hers - it never had.

The rocks under her feet were a minefield now, grabbing at her toes. She couldn't run even if she knew where to go. Cass slowed, swiping at the tears. Hating the need for them.

She'd always been quick to cry, even for someone born in the green hills of Ireland. But she wasn't weak. Three weeks of the year she softened. Opened.

And somehow, this time, her soft nest had been tipped over.

But life wasn't always fair, and usually Cassidy Farrell knew how to dust her knees and get back up.

Calmer now, she sat down on a large boulder and waited for the rocks to scold. To tug. And finally to soothe.

All her life, they'd offered her comfort.

Now, they only hummed. A quiet, monotonous sound that didn't have any answers at all.
Chapter 12
The next time she ran away from home, she needed to pack food. Cass's stomach had yelled at her all the way back to the village. Almost loudly enough to drown out the sixteen voices fighting in her head.

Aaron set a tray on the kitchen table, loaded down with a mouthwatering array of snacks and two cups of tea.

Cass eyed the second cup with unease. She wasn't ready to deal with the wise and needy hearts of Fisher's Cove just yet. Even the nonintrusive ones. "You joining me?"

"No." He unloaded the tray with easy grace. "We had a second guest arrive today. She says she knows you."

"She does," said a voice from the hall.

Cass spun around, heart in her throat. And nearly knocked over the chair in her rush to hug the vision in the doorway.

"Ah, now. Shoosh, shoosh." Strong hands patted her head, much as they always had. "It's so very good to see you, a leanbh mo chroi."

Good didn't begin to describe it. Cass pushed back and looked at Nan's lined, twinkling face. "What are you doing here?" Nan Cassidy left her village only rarely. To travel across the ocean was tantamount to space travel.

A smile slid into place under