Page 40 of The Women of Wild Hill

The Visitor

Flora stepped out of an arch formed by two flaming logs.

When she stood just inside the rocks that circled the bonfire, her daughters and granddaughter realized she couldn’t cross over.

This was a more mature version of Flora than the flower child who’d welcomed Sibyl.

Flora had been forty-seven when she died—the same age as Brigid.

Her beauty remained every bit as alluring.

But now there was new wisdom in her eyes.

“My girls,” she said. “I’m glad you decided to stay and do your duty.”

Brigid rushed toward her, only to be pushed away by the heat of the flames.

Phoebe, still angry, hung back. “Why didn’t you come to us earlier?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell us all of this ages ago?”

“I still don’t get it,” Brigid blurted. “Why punish yourself for something that asshole did? Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have happily killed him. I would have done anything not to lose you.”

“Do you have any idea how much the two of us suffered?” Phoebe’s voice cracked.

“Do you have any idea how much harm Calum Geddes did to the world in the years after your death?” Brigid demanded.

“I do,” Flora told them.

“Then why did you let all of this happen?” Phoebe asked.

“Because Bessie showed me the path that my death would clear. I drank my mother’s poison because I wanted the best for the three of you.

I saw everything leading up to this very moment,” Flora told them.

“I saw the skills you acquired and the connections you made. I saw Sibyl’s birth and the woman she’d become.

Bessie showed me the three of you as you appear now. ”

“One barely out of school and the other two homeless and middle-aged?” Phoebe asked. “Oh yeah—and did she happen to show you where the tornado took my house? I’d like it back, please.”

“That house served you well, but it is of no use to you at the moment. The three women I see before me have everything they need here to turn the tide.”

Phoebe’s patience was being tested. “I know this shit is all mystical and magical, Mom, but can you please stop talking like the Delphic Oracle and just tell us?”

“What exactly does the Old One want us to do?” Brigid completed the thought.

“She’s put you on a path,” Flora said. “She wants you to follow it.”

“Fine, but where does it go?” Phoebe demanded.

THE QUESTION WAS ANSWERED BY the drone of a motor.

Most boats that passed Wild Hill knew to keep their distance from the treacherous rocks just off the shore.

But the drone grew louder as the vessel steered close.

The three of them watched its lights cut across the sound.

It looked like the boat was mere yards offshore—and slowing down as though it meant to drop anchor. Then came a crash.

“Wow, just like Rose.” Sibyl marveled at the coincidence, but neither her mother nor her aunt heard. Even if they had, they wouldn’t have caught the reference. That was one more story no one had ever shared with them.

The women raced down the hill to the beach.

In the moonlight, they could see a motorboat stranded on the same rock that had destroyed Henry Jansson’s vessel.

Someone was swimming to shore from the wreck.

When he reached shallow water, he stood up and waded through the surf.

He was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and red tie.

Phoebe approached him. “You’re hurt,” she said, noting a gash across his forehead. “Hold still for a moment.” She placed her hand against his wound and closed her eyes.

“Just out of curiosity, what are you doing?” he asked.

“It’s a trick to stop the bleeding.” A few seconds later, she pulled her hand away and rinsed the blood off in the ocean. “I’ll get you bandaged up in a moment. Was there anyone with you?”

“No,” the man told her. “I was on my way home alone.”

Phoebe glanced at her sister, who remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hello, Brigid,” the man said. “I knew I’d be seeing you again soon.”

Phoebe’s eyes remained locked on her sister. “You know this guy?”

“We met on the plane from Los Angeles,” Brigid explained. Then she addressed the man. “Perhaps you should introduce yourself to my sister.”

“Apologies.” He held out a hand. “My name is Liam.”

“Liam Geddes, this is my sister, Phoebe, and my niece, Sibyl,” Brigid told him.

Phoebe stared down at the man’s hand as though it couldn’t be real. “Calum’s son? What are you—” She turned toward the bonfire then back at her sister. They both knew that the Old One had sent him. Why was the question that neither could answer.

“My father’s funeral was this afternoon. I thought I’d be clever and take the boat into town to avoid paparazzi. I assumed I’d be back by dusk. As I was heading home, I saw the fire on the hill. I was worried your house might be in trouble, so I steered closer to shore than I should have.”

Phoebe still appeared utterly confused. “Your father’s funeral was in Mattauk? Why would it be in Mattauk?”

“He bought an estate out here in the nineties after your mother died. I guess he fell in love with the Island during his time here with Flora. He wanted to be buried as close to her as possible. He even put it in his will.” Liam pointed to the bonfire at the top of the hill.

“Would you mind if I stand by your fire for a few minutes before I head home? It’s a bit chilly to have taken an evening swim. ”

“Of course,” Phoebe said. “Go on ahead. We’ll join you up there in a moment.”

“Thank you,” Liam said. “I appreciate it.”

The three of them watched until he was well out of earshot.

“What the fuck?” Sibyl spoke first.

“Are we supposed to kill him?” Phoebe asked. “Did anyone bring a weapon?”

No one answered for a moment. Liam had reached the bonfire. He picked a spot and waved down at them.

“He’s even better-looking than his dad,” Sibyl noted.

Phoebe grimaced. “Don’t be disgusting. I say we get rid of him.”

“You don’t get a vote,” Brigid said. “We all know that the only person who’s going to kill anyone is me, and I’m not going to kill Liam.”

“Liam?” Phoebe mimicked her.

“That’s his fucking name, isn’t it?” Brigid asked.

“Holy shit.” Sibyl laughed. “I think she likes him.”

Brigid narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know me well enough yet to make fun of me.”

“Fine. Fuck him, then kill him if that’s what you have to do,” Phoebe said. “But he needs to be killed.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the healer?” Brigid said. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get some bandages for our guest’s gaping head wound.”

“I’ll go with you!” Sibyl announced, giddy at the prospect of leaving her aunt alone with Liam Geddes.

“I don’t know which of you is more annoying,” Brigid grumbled as she started off up the hill.

“So have you three decided what you want to do with me?” their guest asked as she approached.

“You’re pretty bold for someone who barely escaped being fish food.”

Liam reached over and plucked a twig out of her hair and tossed it onto the flames. “Looks like you had an interesting day, too,” he observed.

“You could say that,” Brigid said. “Sure ended with a bang.” The words came out before she could stop them. She’d heard her mother say the very same thing. It felt uncanny, like an echo through time.

Liam grimaced. “I’m very sorry for barging in like this,” he told her. “It really wasn’t intentional. I was planning to stop by with flowers. Preferably while wearing dry clothes.”

“Yes, well, the universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” Brigid replied.

“Indeed it does,” Liam agreed.

The silence stretched out until Brigid broke it. “So how was the funeral?”

“Far less funereal than one might imagine,” Liam said. “There were hundreds of protesters. One might get the sense my father wasn’t well-liked.”

“Were you close to him?”

“As close as anyone could get to him, I suppose,” Liam said.

“He was a great dad when I was a kid. Things changed long before he and my mother split. I didn’t see much of him at all after AMN began to grow.

I think he only remembered I was there when he realized he wasn’t immortal and would need to turn over the reins of the empire someday. ”

“So you’ll be taking over AMN now?” Brigid asked.

“Oh yes.” Liam turned to look at her. “I already have.”

Brigid spotted Phoebe crossing the lawn with a bottle of peroxide and a roll of gauze in her hands. “Don’t mention that to my sister,” she whispered. “She’s already borderline homicidal.”

“Take a seat,” Phoebe ordered when she reached them, gesturing toward a large chunk of granite a few feet from the fire. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Liam chose a different rock and sat down. Phoebe and Brigid exchanged a glance before they joined him. No words were spoken, but Brigid made it clear they were not going to hurt their guest.

“So your father wanted to be buried as close to our mother as possible?” Phoebe asked as she cleaned Liam’s wound.

“Apparently,” Liam replied. “I assume she’s somewhere on the Island as well. I thought it would be impertinent to ask.”

“You’re sitting on her tombstone,” Phoebe told him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He started to rise.

“Sit,” both women ordered at once.

“Our mom wouldn’t have cared,” Brigid explained. “She would have thought it was funny.”

“It’s true,” Phoebe confirmed. “Not sure how she would have felt about Calum Geddes wanting to be so close to her, though.”

“Why do you say that?” Liam asked. “They were in love, weren’t they? He certainly was never the same after her death. It was like the whole world had gone dark for him.”

“Did your father have any theories about why our mother killed herself?” Brigid asked, fishing around to see how much he knew.

Liam shook his head. “No. He never spoke about it—and no one would have dared mention her death in front of him. But the note she left seemed to indicate a break with reality, did it not? It didn’t make much sense, as I recall.”

“I’m sure it made perfect sense,” Brigid replied. “We just haven’t figured out what she meant. All these years later, the note’s still a mystery.”

“Not the only one,” Liam said.

Phoebe paused. “What do you mean?”

“The poison your mother consumed. As far as I know, it was never identified. Did you find out what it was?”

Phoebe looked as though she’d been hit with a bolt of electricity. Brigid, for once, had been struck silent.

“I’m sorry if I hit a raw nerve,” Liam said. “It wasn’t my place to mention it.”

“It’s alright,” Brigid assured him. “It’s just that the thirtieth anniversary of her death is coming up. We’re both feeling a bit frazzled.”

“And it’s late. We should all be in bed.” Phoebe stepped between them to tend to Liam’s wound. Silence reigned while she worked.

“Thank you,” Liam said when Phoebe was done. “I’ll send someone out to deal with the wreck in the morning. Are you okay if it waits until then?”

“Of course,” Brigid told him. “I’d drive you home, but we don’t have a car here on the Island. Can you call yourself a taxi?”

Liam pointed out at the ocean. “Phone’s down there.”

“Use one of ours.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll walk. It’s not that far. Just at the end of Nereid Drive on the other side of town.”

“You want to walk all that way in the dark?” Phoebe asked. “That’s ridiculous. There used to be bikes in the shed.”

“Come on,” Brigid told him. “Let’s go have a look.”

She held her tongue until Phoebe was out of earshot. Then, just as she was about to speak, Brigid sensed someone else was watching them from the caretaker’s cottage.

“Leaving so soon?” Sibyl called out. She was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs, her feet propped up on the railing, eating a bowl of popcorn.

Liam and Brigid stopped at the giant sweet gum that had fallen across the drive. “Did you chop a tree down to keep me here?” he asked the youngest Duncan.

“Maybe.” Sibyl winked at him.

“Don’t listen to that imp,” Brigid counseled as she guided Liam around the obstacle. “The tree came down in the big storm we had earlier.”

“What storm?” Liam asked. “It was clear all evening.”

“Never mind,” Brigid told him.

As they walked to the shed, Brigid wondered if this was what her mother had felt when she first met Calum. Every nerve was tingling, every atom abuzz. Brigid had never experienced anything quite like it.

“I hope I didn’t upset your sister,” Liam said.

“Don’t worry. She’ll forget all about it,” Brigid said. “She’s the sweet one, believe it or not.”

“Actually, I find that very hard to believe,” Liam replied.

“Well, that’s what everyone used to say.”

“You know, the labels people give us as kids don’t always fit when we’re older. She seems tough as nails. Maybe you’re the sweet one now.”

“I doubt it,” Brigid said. Still, it made her think. “She’s devoted her life to healing bunnies and shit. I kill people for a living.”

Liam laughed. “You two are exactly how my father described you.”

“How’s that?”

“He said you were wild, magical creatures.”

“Yeah,” Brigid said, her smile washed away by an unexpected wave of sadness. “We definitely were.”

“It was a real shame what happened to your mother.”

They were at the gate. Brigid unlocked it and they both grimaced at the horrible creak.

“Yeah,” Brigid agreed for the second time. “It was.”

“Do you think we were meant to meet again tonight?” Liam’s question opened a door.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Brigid told him without missing a beat.

“So it’s okay with you if I come by tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Brigid said. Then she remembered her nosy relatives and thought better of it. “You know what? Why don’t I come to you instead?”

“Even better,” Liam told her. “Shall we say lunchtime?”

They stood there, face-to-face in the drive, for the longest time.

“Good night,” Brigid said, only because somebody had to.

“Good night,” Liam replied. And then he did her the favor of riding away.

YOU FUCKING BITCH. brIGID CURSED the Old One as she walked back to the cottage. We both know I don’t deserve this.