A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,49

but be damned if she was doing any communing.

"The rocks beat strongly here. Perhaps they're what called our ancestors to these shores." Wise eyes looked her direction. "How has the road treated you this year, my girl?"

The same as always. "It's been good. Too many shows, but I still get to play my little bars and pubs."

"Good." Nan hopped nimbly over a big driftwood log. "Those have always sustained you."

Something no one else in the world really understood. "The audiences are better there."

"But finally not enough anymore, are they?"

It wasn't really a question. Cass frowned, not sure where the conversation was headed.

"Music has always been your one true love." Nan touched her hand to a cold gray boulder as they walked by. "Until I got here, I thought it might stay that way."

Something uncomfortable jiggled against Cass's ribs. "This is just a road trip."

"Hardly, stubborn girl. It's the beginning of the rest of your life."

The jiggling turned to earthquakes. Cass eyed her grandmother sharply. "And how would you know that?"

"The same way you know it, child." The words carried love - and chiding. Nan was no pushover. "The rocks talk to me, same as they talk to you. And since you're here, I assume you've done at least a passable job of listening."

"I came for the food." It was truth, at least in part. "I'm doing my annual walkabout - nothing more, nothing less."

Nan's grin was pure mischief. "That's the story you're telling yourself, is it? You always were a good one with a tall tale."

A lecture she could have pushed away. Nan's insistent good humor had always been able to hold her face to the mirror. "I'm not looking for a different life." The one she had suited her just fine. Most days.

"Aren't you?" Green eyes met hers and didn't look away. "You grow weary, Cassie mine. The rocks can feel it, and so can your heart. When are you going to set down your sweet Rosie long enough to listen?"

The idea of putting down her fiddle literally closed Cass's throat. "I can't give up my music."

"Of course not." Nan sounded offended that the idea had been given air. "Why on earth would you even consider such a thing?"

Cass threw her hands out over the waters and the rocky, empty beach. "Who would I play for here?"

"Ah, child." A warm, strong hand touched her cheek. "That's a brave and good question to be asking, isn't it now?"

Cass grasped the fingers. And pleaded, mute, for the woman who had always been her biggest and best rock to make some sense of the shambles in her head.

"Music is your heart and soul, a leanbh mo chroi." Nan walked them down the beach again, just as she'd done when Cass had been a small, boisterous child. "You were smart enough to know that when you were a wee one. I believe you'll still dance with Rosie even when you're an old crone like me."

The stranglehold on Cass's throat loosened. "Then why am I here?"

The answer was a long time coming. "Perhaps to see if your heart is ready to make space for other things to love."

She'd spent twenty-six years believing that was impossible.

"Marcus looks a wee bit like your grandda."

Cass wasn't fooled by the apparent change in subject. "It's not about him."

Nan only chuckled and stepped out of the way of a chasing tongue of water. "He's part of the mix, child, and I'd venture you knew it the moment you saw him."

Grinding her teeth into dust was probably a dumb idea. Cass tried anyhow.

"Don't hide from the truth, child. There's more than one reason you're here." Green eyes met hers and spoke from a lifetime of everyday courage. "And you've the delight of seeking each of them out when they're ready to be found."

She didn't want to look. "I came here for some peace and quiet."

Nan's chuckles rolled out over the beach. "Hardly. But even if you had, that wouldn't matter at all now. You're here, and that's all that matters. Let's go on inside, and you can work on the first answer you've found."

Cass frowned. "And that would be?"

An eyebrow danced, amused. "I assume I didn't travel all the way over here with your old fiddle just to keep Rosie company."

Ah. "No. Samantha's for Kevin."

The sideways glance was oddly casual. "Going to teach him, are you?"

Cass blinked - she hadn't really thought that part through. "Maybe you can show him a little." Nan had been the perfect teacher - funny,