Oceanside

  Oceanside

  N. E. Conneely

  Copyright © 2017 N. E. Conneely

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information-storage-and-retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author.

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  This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are made fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Oceanside

  Also by N. E. Conneely

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  About the Author

  Oceanside

  I stood on the beach, breathed the salty wind as the crashing of the waves filled the air with their roar. The sky stretched on for miles, with sun shimmering off the surface of the water. The beauty and power before me were captivating. Every day I walked along the beach and drank in the experience the way a thirsty man gulps water.

  Few things could rival the ocean’s pull on me. Today the woman playing in the waves was one of them, but her allure was much different. It wasn't often the object of my adoration was so small or close. Delicate was the word that sprang to mind, though that was hardly fair. Both were stunningly beautiful, fascinating, and captivating. However, the ocean was a goddess to be worshiped from afar, given offerings, and left alone to be beautiful and magical. The woman was someone you could touch, hug. She could love you back, laugh with you, and have a life with you.

  Feeling ashamed for staring, even if she hadn't noticed, I shoved my hand in my pocket, fingering the shell I’d found years ago, and resumed my walk down the beach. She really was lovely, with long black hair floating in the water and a slender form cutting through the waves.

  “Beautiful day,” I called.

  She twisted around, eyes wide, before relaxing when she spied me standing well above the tide. “I didn't hear you.”

  “Not surprising. Waves are noisier than they look.”

  “I guess. Are you going for a swim?”

  “No.” I gestured to slacks and boots. “I'm just walking today.”

  “Shame, the water's lovely.” She smiled warmly.

  “I'm sure it is, but I won't have time until tomorrow.” Though I was tempted to yank off my boots and spend the day out here with her rather than working.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I hear tomorrow's going to be stormy. Not good swimming weather.”

  “Storms don’t bother me much.” I shrugged.

  “Most people won’t swim in storms.” She swam a little closer to shore.

  Squaring my shoulders, I felt the scars on my back rub against my shirt. “Few people have lived through a real storm.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, where the water stretched to the horizon. The waves pulled her away from shore. “At sea they can be vicious.”

  “Land storms can be equally powerful but,” I drew the word out. Her eyes met mine, wishful and afraid at the same time. “The secret to surviving is knowing the best way to ride out the storm.”

  “What if it’s too powerful?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

  “Sometimes,” my voice deepened as memories threatened to rise to the surface. The scars on my back pulled at the sin around them. “You simply endure. You hold onto the knowledge that no storm lasts forever and there are limits to its reach.”

  She shivered.

  “Don’t like the sound of that?” She shook her head. I sighed, wishing I’d kept the conversation lighter. I wanted to see her again, not scare her away. “The sunsets after a storm are some of the most beautiful.”

  Her eyes darted toward the sun. “A reward for surviving.”

  “Precisely.” My eyes followed hers, surprised at how high the sun was in the sky. There was work to be done. “What's your name?”

  “Celia. Why?”

  “I'm Robert.” I studied her, memorizing this sight so I'd be able to replay it in my mind. “So I could say, Good day, Celia. Don't stay in too long, you'll wrinkle.” I swept into a short bow, hearing her laughter follow me back to my house.

  From my office window I could see her swimming and splashing. While she didn’t leave the water, she did distract me from my work for five painful hours. Dusk was giving way to night when a shape similar to Celia's emerged from the water. I watched for far too long, but only a seal returned to the waves. Smiling, I made dinner.

  In the morning I hurried through breakfast, and eagerly strode onto the beach. My eyes scanned the area, but the waves and wind were my only company. I returned home, hoping work would move quickly so I could spend the evening looking for Celia. The promised storm came and went while I was working. Perhaps she had been absent this morning because she was waiting for the storm to pass.

  When I finally escaped to the oceanside, I spent hours walking, looking, and hoping to see her. When the sun slid below the horizon, I gave up, and returned home to a lonely dinner beside the fire.

  The next day was much the same, and when Celia didn’t show up, I went to the pub for dinner, not wanting to be alone. As I walked home, looking at the moonlight reflecting off the waves, I thought I saw a seal darting through the water. Shaking it off as a trick of the light, I returned home.

  For more than a week, I watched the shore, and spent every moment walking the beach, hoping she would return. Celia had destroyed my equilibrium. I’d carved out a happy, if boring life, before I met her. She had, completely unintentionally, reminded me of what I’d lost, and for one precious moment it time, given me hope that I could regain some of my past. That flicker of hope, as tenacious as it had proven itself to be, was dying.

  Every day for a year I walked the beach, swam in the ocean, and looked for Celia. It was as if she’d vanished into water, never to return. I wished I’d had the chance to get to know her better.

  Sighing, I clenched my hand around the chipped shell and continued my walk. Years ago the shell’s edges had been sharp, rough, reminding me of the untamed heart of the ocean where it had found me. In the years since, it had traveled with me, reminded me to be indomitable, to be as strong as the ocean. I ran my fingers over the edge.

  Stopping at the same place I'd first seen her, I closed my eyes and replayed that beautiful moment in my mind, but today it didn't ring true. The memory was fading, slowly turning old and muted. Like the shell’s sharp edges, time was dulling the memory. Soon it would be a soft reminder of an enchanting woman.

  I blinked a few times after I opened my eyes, sure I was hallucinating. Still unsure of my vision's accuracy I blinked a few more times. Then I looked back at the ocean. My eyes weren't lying. She was here, playing, swimming, and just as real as she'd been a year ago.

  It was all I could do not to run down the dune, but I paced myself, taking measured steps, not too fast or too slow. Finally I was even with her, only a few feet from where we'd met last time, but this time she knew I was here.

  She smiled up at me. “I was hoping to see you.”

  “Really?” The spark of hope brightened.

  “Yes.” Celia nodded.

  I cocked my head. “Why?”

  “It was fun to . . .” her smiled faded as she searched for the word, “. . . chat.”

  She was just as beautiful as last time, but I was looking for more than a pretty face. “We didn't 'chat' for long.”

  “Long enough.” She glided closer to me, though the water still
covered her from the neck down.

  “Long enough for what?” I held my breath.

  Celia blushed. “For me to like you.”

  My breath whooshed out. “Really? You hardly know me.”

  She nodded. “There’s something about you.”

  “Then why has it been a year?”

  Her eyes dropped to the water. “My family moved away.” Her eyes lifted to meet his. “But I promise I won’t disappear like that again.”

  My heart was pounding. “Why don't we sit on the beach and talk?”

  She shook her head. “I’m swimming.”

  I shrugged, as if it wasn’t important “Suit yourself.”

  “I will.” Her sea-green eyes glittered, and I lost a little more of my heart. “Do you come here often?”

  “Most days. Why?” I winced at how lame that sounded.

  “I was curious.”

  “Anything else you’re curious about?” Inside I was begging her to ask another question.

  “Maybe.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I wanted to get to know her, not just banter.

  “Sure.”

  “Catch.” I tossed her the shell I'd been running through my hands. She snatched it out of the air, turning it over in her hands. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “No. It's beautiful. Where'd you find it?” She wasn't even looking at me, just inspecting the shell. It was worth the time, a deep blue on the inside and a lovely pearly peach on the outside.

  I took a steadying breath. “I’ll tell you tomorrow if you'll come up on the beach. I'll bring a towel, and you make it to shore.”

  “That's mean.” She pretended to pout.

  I grinned. “No, it's bartering.”

  “I don't like it.”

  “If you want the story, you'll be on the beach, ready to listen, this time tomorrow.” I turned and headed back to my house.

  “Wait! You forgot your shell.”

  Glancing back, I smiled. “You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

  She was standing on the beach, the wind ruffling her hair and swirling the long summer dress around her legs. Without saying a word, I spread the towel and sat down. A few minutes later she settled next to me. Celia was even more beautiful close up, with her black hair, sea-green eyes, and willowy form.

  She placed the shell on the towel. “You promised me a story.”

  “So I did.” Taking a moment, I gathered my thoughts. “Once upon a time, on a beach not much different from this, a young man stepped out of the water. He checked to see if anyone was around before hiding a bundle of his things behind a rock. He spent some time enjoying the sun and walking through the sand. All of a sudden a beautiful woman appeared. The man froze, unsure what to do, but the woman was kind to him, and unconcerned by the man’s lack of clothing. After a time she invited him back to her house for a meal.

  “He retrieved the only piece of clothing he had, a pelt. She fed him soup, and they talked for hours. The young man was enchanted. He’d never met anyone like her. The hour grew late and she offered him a room. He agreed to stay the night.

  “The next day the pelt was gone. She told him he'd get it back after he married her, but he didn't. For several years he searched for his pelt, for he was a selkie, a creature of the sea, not meant to be bound to land.

  “One day he realized he wasn't happy. He hadn't been happy since she'd stolen his seal form. The woman he’d thought was so enchanting was cruel. He feared for any children they might have together. With all happiness sucked from his life, he left. He simply walked away. He was more than a day’s travel from their home when he felt hot flames eating at his back, leaving his flesh broken and raw. She'd burned his pelt. He could never go back to the sea.

  “For months he fell into a great despair, but one day he found himself back on that first beach. He went back to the rock, and found the things he’d left so long before. A necklace, a few coins, and a small shell he’d discovered in the dark depths of the sea.

  “As he held the shell, a broken part of him slid back into place. While he would never be able to dive to the heart of the ocean again, he could enjoy her sounds, her scents, and even her cool embrace. He searched the coast until he found a place that called to him, that felt like home. There he built a home where he turned shells into jewelry and ornaments for tourists. Slowly, as months turned into years, he found happiness. Not the same as what he’d had as a selkie, but happiness nonetheless.”

  Minutes ticked by slowly. Finally, Celia spoke. “You?”

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “Yes.”

  She gently touched my arm. When I summoned the courage to look at her, I found only concern. “You knew what I was?”

  “Eh,” I shrugged. “Being part of the species gave me an advantage.”

  “Is this a proposal?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  I looked out at the streaks of red and purple painting the sky. “It could be, but I don't want a sad wife. I want a willing one.”

  “Do . . . do I need to decide now?” Her eyes darted between me and the ocean.

  “Dear me no.” I shook my head. “I thought we'd date first, see if this is really something we both want. However, I think we'll suit well.”

  Celia played with the shell. “Last year I was looking for a bit of adventure, to spend some time with a human.”

  “You were excited and a little scared,” I filled in.

  She nodded.

  “And then?”

  “You.” She smiled softly. “You walked up and I wanted to try this life. Live with humans, and do whatever it is that people do, but . . .”

  “You needed time to think.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Keep the shell. I can wait for an answer. We can do beach dates, and you never have to tell me where you keep your pelt.”

  Her cheeks colored. “It could work.” She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at me with determination. “I won’t make you any promises. I’m still a selkie, and I belong with the sea.”

  “My pelt was taken from me.” I leaned back, giving her space. “You should never feel that pain. You can leave at any time. You can be a selkie and have a life on shore, or you can return to the ocean. As much as I want a chance to build a relationship with you, your happiness is more important than my hope.”

  She gently touched my cheek, setting my nerves on fire. I sat very still, not wanting to frighten her.

  “Hope shielded you while you weathered the storm. I wouldn’t take that from you.” Shell clutched in her hand, she walked down the beach and into the water. A moment later her dress floated to the surface. In the distance a seal sliced through the waves.

  She'd be back. I was sure.

  Celia was waiting for me the next day. We walked along the beach together, then I watched her vanish into the ocean. Most days we met on the beach for walks and dinner, and with every sunset I fell a little more in love with her. As days turned to weeks, she slowly began to trust me. Three months later she set foot in my house.

  Occasionally the villagers asked me about the girl, the one they saw me with in the distance. I said she was a friend who came over to enjoy the beach. It took some doing, and some discreet shopping for proper attire, but we eventually had dinner in town.

  One by one she charmed the villagers. Even the young miss who’d had her heart set on me. The glances sent our way became curious, even demanding. What was taking Robert so long? Didn’t he know a lady wanted to be married?

  I knew.

  A year after our first date she showed me her pelt.

  I proposed.

  She said yes.

  Two weeks later, the waves crashing behind us drowned out the minister’s last words. Luckily, I’d been to enough weddings. I knew exactly what to do. I placed my hands at Celia’s waist, pulled her in, and set my lips against hers.

  Also by N. E. Conneely

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neely.com/books

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  A Witch’s Path Series:

  Witch for Hire (Book 1)

  A Witch’s Path (Book 2)

  A Witch’s Trial (Book 3)

  A Witch’s Concern (Book 4)

  A Witch’s Rite (Book 5)

  A Witch’s Demons (Book 6)

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  The Earth Born Cycle

  Earth Born (Book 1)

  Fire Forged (Book 2)

  Spirit Formed (Book 3)

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  Witch’s Path World:

  Handyman for Hire

  Oceanside

  Fireball

  The Golden Egg

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  Michelle’s Case Files:

  Michelle’s Case Files: A Collection of Short Stories

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  Fey Hearted:

  Fey at Heart (Prequel)

  Fey Hearted (Book 1)

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  About the Author

  N.E. Conneely lives in northern Georgia with her husband, her dog, and a mountain of books. They sweat through the summer and freeze through the winter, and life as they know it comes to an end when so much as a single snowflake falls out of the sky.

  For fun, N.E. plays with her dog, reads, knits, crochets, paints, and does tie-dyeing and origami. She makes a great pizza and is currently negotiating with her husband about raising sea monkeys and growing a vegetable garden.

  Please visit neconneely.com to find information on her current projects.

  www.neconneely.com