Sea birds dove out of the air and then leveled just above the water’s surface, flying straight as sticks for several yards before lifting again. “Ye know about selkies?” Rowan asked.
Bridget nodded. Everyone knew selkies came ashore and took off their sealskins and were beautiful people who never got old. Men could be selkies, but Bridget only liked the stories of girl selkies. They married fishermen and had fishermen’s babies and were happy. But the sea was their real home, and they could put on their sealskin whenever they wanted and return to the water for an hour or a day or forever.
“Ye haven’t been told,” Rowan said. With calloused hands, he wiped tears off her cheeks. “Yer mum,” he made a show of looking around, being sure they were alone, and then he leaned down to her ear, “she hasn’t really left you. She be a selkie.”
Bridget sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “She went to America to get a farm with Pappy. Someday, we’re going, too.”
“That be true.” He made a diving motion with one hand, a swoop up and then down. “But one fine day, sitting right here on this rock, I saw her out there in her sealskin.”
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