Suzanne by the Sea

Life was hard for common folk on the west coast of Ireland in the mid-nineteenth century. The men who went out to harvest the sea in small boats were no exception. The sea took her toll and tax. She was a cruel mistress at the best of time, and seldom went unpaid.

An Oak plaque hung on a wall in the local church, engraved on it were the names of the boats, their crew and the years they were lost. Each year that passed it could be counted on that one or more new names would be added to the memorial.


The wind tossed Suzanne’s wavy auburn hair as she walked along the well-worn path. Her long, dark green skirt snapped and blew like an untrimmed sail. Her white blouse billowed out like a spinnaker as she held her dark, fringed shawl tight around her shoulders.

She stopped at the end of the path and looked down the vertical limestone walls from Widow's Weep. The angry grey waves crashed against the black, knife-edged rocks some thirty feet below. She emitted a soft sigh as her emerald green eyes scanned the horizon.

This was the place where the wives, mothers, and girlfriends of the fisherman came to watch for the return of their loved ones. No one could remember when it got its name or who named it. But, everyone knew that the legend said the sea was a few feet higher from all the tears that had been shed from this lonely and forlorn place.

As far as she could see, there was nothing, nothing but the sea and the clouds. The sea was looking particularly brutal this day. The whitecaps made the water look like it was boiling. Her mother had tried to dissuade her from coming up here.

"Trust in God, and his divine mercy." Those had been her words of advice to Suzanne.

Suzanne's own father had been lost to the sea when she was just a young girl, and she had few memories of the man.

A terrible storm had blown down from the north the previous night, battering the small fishing village. It did not subside until well after the dawn tried to break through the thick clouds. The wind had howled like a banshee throughout the night, had downed trees throughout the parish, and had even taken the roof off Michael O'Sullivan's horse shed. The old-timers, who had braved the weather, gathered at O'Shaughnessy's public house. They couldn't remember a storm that horrific in many a year.

Fear had been expressed for those at sea; the boats that they fished from were small craft carrying only four to six men, a modest main sail and occasionally a jib. There would be nowhere for the men to seek shelter from the wind and the rain; they would have only their oilskins for protection from the elements.

The grey clouds scudded quickly across the afternoon sky. Suzanne's grandfather had told her when she was a wee bit of a girl that those clouds were the ghosts of lost ships. He said if she listened hard, she would be able to hear the ship's captain barking orders and the sound of the bell signaling a change in watch. Even now, all these years later, when Suzanne saw these types of clouds, she would strain her ears and listen for the sounds of lost ships and their ghostly crews.

---

Sean Mulroney came to the village when Suzanne was seventeen. He had come to live with his maternal uncle in hopes of finding gainful employment in the fishing trade. Where he had come from, there was little work for young men, or any man for that matter. Families split apart as the husbands emigrated overseas to Canada and the United States in search of work and money, seeking a better life for their families.

Suzanne had met Sean in the village after church one Sunday. He had been standing outside of the church with several other young men when Suzanne had emerged from morning mass.

He had walked right up to Suzanne that day, looked her straight in the eye, and said, "Aye, the lads are right; you are the prettiest lass in the village. I will marry you one day. You can mark my words on that, Suzanne McDonough!"

She had blushed as her temper rose. "That's a bit of cheek you have there. I don't think I have met my future husband this day."

---

The screeching of the gulls circling overhead only caught Suzanne's attention for the briefest of moments. Her eyes went back to the horizon, scanning as far north and then as far south as she could see. There was nothing to be seen or heard but the waves, the clouds, and the biting wind that was still gusting out of the north. It was the kind of a wind that bit clear through a person no matter what they were wearing. The kind of wind that was born in the snow and ice of the frozen northern regions.

A special mass had been held this morning, and the parish priest had urged the congregation to pray for the lives of the fisherman and for their families. There had been a lot of weeping wives and teary-eyed men in attendance.

After the service was over, the men stood outside of the church discussing the storm. There was none of their customary jocularity during the gathering. All wore serious and worried looks on their faces. Almost to a man, they had gone to the sea at one time or another to harvest her bounty. Each had felt the fury and wrath of a winter's gale on a small fishing boat.

"Would you have run with the storm or pointed your bow into with the sails down?" one man asked another.

"Sweet Jaysus," was the reply. "Running with a storm like that could find a man near half-aways to the Azores by dawn."

"With some luck some of them could have made it to the safety of Finnegan's Cove." Paddy O'Brien remarked.

Even though Finnegan's Cove was nearly thirty miles to the south, it would have safely sheltered any vessel finding its way there. By that route, it would take a small craft better than a day's tacking against the wind to return to the village.

No wreckage had been spotted yet on the beaches, so this was taken to be a good possibility and a good omen.

"Getting past the Three Sister might be a wee bit tricky, depending on how the sea was running," warned Mad Mike Murphy.

Mad Mike had gotten his nickname in a storm when he had lashed himself to the broken mast of his boat. He held onto the bow despite the wind, and as the fishing boat would crest a wave, he would shake his fist and yell. He cursed the sea while the rest of the crew cowered in the bow of the boat.

The Three Sisters were trio of jagged, granite spires that rose from the sea just outside of Finnegan's Cove. A ship or a boat would have to sail well clear of the Three Sisters to avoid the jagged rocks just below the water that endangered all but the smallest of vessels. And still, once past the Three Sisters, the boat would have to make a hard turn and run for a quarter of a mile, with the wind trying to capsize the craft.

"Aye," several men nodded their heads as they piloted the course in their minds.

One of them added, "It would take a good piece of seamanship to pull that off in a storm."

"I wouldn't turn her hard in. I'd set the bow for the far point, and once in the lee, try to cut back up and sit out the storm." Suzanne's grandfather offered his advice.

---

Every Sunday Suzanne would find Sean waiting outside the church to give her a smile and a wink. Suzanne did her best to ignore him as she walked with her mother and grandmother until she arrived at her employer's house where she would busy herself preparing afternoon tea.

Suzanne had turned eighteen that summer, and her new position in the household required that she return to the manor house after church to serve tea to the mistress and any guests that she may have.

Suzanne herself had found employment as a servant in the house of an English landowner. While she held no animosity towards the English who lived in her country, she had no love for them either. She also had no doubts as to how she got the position; it was for her looks and her figure.

While the mistress of the house seemed to take little interest in what went on around her, choosing to spend most of her time in her bed, the master of the house had made thinly veiled hints to her regarding how best to improve her position. They were hints that she had been able to avoid up to this time.

She was there because Elsie, the upstairs maid at the manor house, was suddenly absent one day. The whisperings in the servants' quarters were that she had gotten pregnant by the none other than the master of the house himself. Rumor had it that he had paid for her departure to have the child.

Suzanne was a little uncomfortable to find herself in Elsie's old position. With the new position came the Lordship's longing stares. Once, he had tried to trap in her in a room, and it was only by the grace of God that he tripped over a low table, saving her honor.

She had been more than relieved when he had left with his wife and young daughter to take his place in the House of Lords in London while Parliament was in session. With their departure, both her Sunday afternoons and her virginity remained her own.

One particular Sunday, she had been more than surprised to see Sean Mulroney enter the church. He had walked up to Suzanne and asked, "Would you be minding if I sat beside you?"

Suzanne had felt her cheeks redden even as her green eyes flashed in defiance when she answered, "Tis a free country, you may sit where you wish. You need not be asking my permission on where to sit in the House of God."

She had adjusted the hymnal in her lap, faced forward and only glanced to her side long enough to see him grin at her response.

She had been surprised at his voice during the singing of the hymns; it was a full, rich voice. Suzanne found herself listening to him sing and not singing along with the rest of the congregation. This did not go unnoticed by Sean Mulroney.

After the hymn was over, he leaned over and whispered, "You're supposed to sing along, too. How else will God hear us?"

For the rest of the mass Suzanne had glowered, wishing all sorts of unpleasant fates upon Sean Mulroney. There was much she wanted to say, but it was Sunday. And she was in church.

When the service and family dinner were done, she had hugged her mother and grandparents, setting off to the manor house. Some of the servants stayed in quarters at the house, and Suzanne was one of them.

While welcome to stay at the warmth of her family's hearth while the lord was away, Suzanne had needed the walk. Her grandfather had already whispered teases to her twice about "that Mulroney boy" when she wasn't paying attention to the conversation.

A light drizzle fell as she walked, and she tried to occupy her mind with thoughts other than how Sean's green eyes danced when he smiled at her.

The fields were green with the crops. They were green every year, but for the past few years, the crops had been poor. The potatoes had come out the ground small and half-rotted. The memories of those harvests distracted her a while.

Arriving at her room, she worked open the lock. One of the first things she had done when moving to her new bedroom was have one of the men who worked on the estate come repair the lock and install a bolt.

It was only a night after the repairs when she had to stifle a laugh as she heard her door rattle, followed soon by the curses of his Lordship as he had given up and walked away. She laughed again as she thought about it and decided it was a story she would tell Sean. Her cheeks reddened again as she realized she wanted to tell Sean Mulroney stories.

---

Her eyes stung. She wasn't sure if it was from her tears or the salt spray from the water below or some combination of both.

Suzanne had hoped to see his boat and to see him wildly waving at her as he did each time he returned to port. In her mind, she ran down to the quay, threw her arms around him and welcomed him home by teasing him that he stunk like sweaty fish.

At this moment, the smell of sweat and fish would have been the sweetest smell she could ever imagine.

Suzanne watched as one of her tears fell. She was certain her eyes followed it to the very spot where it hit the rocks.

'The ocean is one tear deeper,' she thought to herself.

Aloud she yelled at the raging seas, "I've given up my tears to you! Now, you give me my man back!"

"Suzanne!" She turned abruptly at the sound of her name.

She tried to greet her grandfather with a smile, but none would come.

Even though it had been years since he had gone out to sea and fished, he still looked every bit the fisherman with his cap, his heavy wool sweater, dark trousers and high fishing boots.

"It's time ye came home. Ye'll be doing naught for him, being up here and catching your death of cold." His eyes scanned the horizon from north to south and, like his granddaughter, spotted nothing. "They'll not be back until late tonight at the soonest, and by the set of the wind, most likely not until the morn."

Suzanne looked at the weathered face of her grandfather. "I'm worried about him; I don't want him to be..."

She would not say it, the word drowned stuck in her throat like a hook.

"He's a strong lad, and he's fishing with good men. They're a good crew. He'll be okay. Your grandmother has a stew cooking in the hearth. Let's go back and have a bowl with a cup of hot tea to warm our bones." He patted her back, and then put his arm around her shoulders.

Suzanne buried her head into his sweater like she had done so many times in her life. There was a feeling of safety and comfort in his arms.

"Okay." She tried to put on a brave face. "Let's go home."

Her grandfather pointed out to sea. "And we best be quick about it. There's a squall moving in."

Following his finger, she saw the grey semi-transparent wall of rain making its way to the coast.

Her grandfather squeezed her tighter and tried to elicit a smile, "If it didn't rain, then we wouldn't be in Ireland now, would we?"

---

Sean Mulroney came to church every Sunday, and each Sunday would sit beside Suzanne.

Finally, her mother had said, "If the young man intends on courting you, he needs to introduce himself to your family."

"He's not courting me." Suzanne felt the heat in her face as she blushed.

"He just sits beside me to—annoy me. He is just so full of himself." The final words came in such a quick and determined manner that it made her mother smile.

Suzanne ignored it, not wanting to admit to anyone and to herself least of all, that she had found herself thinking about him more and more of late.

"I've not known a man to ever get his self cleaned up every Sunday morn to sit beside the same girl week after week if wasn't sweet on her." Suzanne's grandfather had teased her.

"Oh, be gone with the lot of you." Suzanne had blushed more deeply and announced, "What a daft notion you have, if you think I would allow the likes of Mr. Mulroney to court me."

Suzanne's grandmother smiled and laughed. "Jack, it seems to me I've heard that speech one time before."

He nodded and winked at Suzanne. "Your mother said the same about your father, may he rest in peace."

The following Sunday after mass, Sean approached Suzanne. "Can I walk with you?"

"It's a free country Mr. Mulroney," she answered. "I think you are free to walk where you wish."

Inside her heart pounded with excitement.

He walked on one side of the narrow lane and she on the other that first time. She told him that she did not want to be seen walking with him too close, lest people take the wrong idea. This only seemed to amuse Sean Mulroney to no end.

Suzanne was flustered a little inside at his amusement, but remained quiet, determined to ignore it. She was grateful when he pointed at the manor house and asked, "What's it like? Working there?"

Suzanne looked towards the large house. "The work is not bad, and I can take my meals there. The lady of the house is okay; she doesn't make many demands upon me...But his lordship, that's a different matter altogether."

"What's wrong with him?" Sean was curious.

"He's a pig! He's always trying to touch me or one of the other girls." Suzanne felt her disgust for the man rising in her throat. "He's the reason that Elsie O'Toole had to leave town!"

Sean was surprised. He didn't know the O'Toole family very well and only knew Elsie by sight. "I didn't know she had left town."

Suzanne stopped; she was surprised that Sean didn't know what happened to Elsie, as it was common knowledge. Well, it was common knowledge among the servants at the house anyways.

She looked up and down the lane making sure there was no one else around before she half-whispered, "He got her in the family way."

"No!" Sean was surprised.

"Aye, indeed!" Suzanne nodded with the look of someone who knew the inside story. "She went to Dublin to live with an aunt. His lordship paid some money to buy her silence. Least that's what I was told."

She realized what she had said and looked at Sean. "Don't you go spreading that around now, just keep it to yourself."

Sean nodded, moved across the lane and began walking next to Suzanne. There was a change; she had told him a secret. He couldn't help but look at his feet and smile.

Deep down inside she was glad he was next to her.

A light misty rain fell as they walked along the lane past the deep green fields. They made small talk. It seemed to Suzanne that the closer they got to the house, the slower they walked.

When they came to the manor gate, she stopped and looked at Sean. "I'm glad you walked with me."

Sean looked down at his boots for a moment and then he looked at Suzanne with a fierce Irish pride burning in his eyes. "If he ever touches you, I'll..."

She reached over and touched his arm. "I can take care of myself."

He nodded and didn't doubt her words for a moment.

He summoned up his courage and asked what he had wanted to ask her from the time they had set off from the church. "Do you think I could walk with you to church next week?"

"Yes," Suzanne replied, "I think I would like that."

---

Suzanne and her grandfather made it home just as the rain began to fall. The kitchen of the small house was filled with the aroma of simmering stew and fresh baked bread.

"No sign?" asked Margaruite, Suzanne's mother.

Jack didn't say anything, but just shook his head.

"Well, sit by fire, girl, and warm yourself."

Her mother looked sadly out of the window as she remembered a day like this in her own past. She knew all too well the torment her daughter was going through and felt helpless. There was nothing she could do to ease the anguish. In all the years since that day, there had been no balm for her wounded heart.

The stew and the tea warmed Suzanne's body, but there was nothing to take the chill from her soul. The skies had darkened again as the sun set and the rain fell again. Suzanne looked out of the window and silently cursed the incessant rain of her homeland.

Jack looked at the worried expressions of his wife, daughter, and granddaughter and sighed.

He pulled on his heavy jacket and said to his wife. "I think I will go down to O'Shaughnessy's to see if there is any news."

His wife looked up at him with a stern look. "See that's all you do."

He shook his head as he stepped into the wind and the rain of the night. No, he wasn't in the mood for merrymaking tonight. A short whiskey might be in order though, just a little something to ward off the cold.

It hurt him to see his granddaughter like this. He looked over at the raging sea as he walked and silently cursed her. She was indeed a cruel mistress, tempting men to go out, to harvest her bounty, and then snatching them away from their loved ones.

The mood at O'Shaughnessy's was subdued when he walked in. Only a handful of men sat at the tables, quietly talking with half-emptied drinks in front of them.

As he sat down, he signaled the man behind the bar. "A small whiskey, Billy, if you would."

The other men nodded as Jack sat down.

"Any word?" he asked anxiously.

Mad Mike Murphy nodded. "Aye. There's some news, but not good. Some wreckage was spotted a few miles south on the rocks. But the sea is still too rough for anyone to go out and see what boat it's from.

---

The session of Parliament had adjourned, and the Lord and Lady of the manor had returned. Suzanne had quickly grown tired of the Englishman's unwanted advances. Earlier in the day, while she was changing the linen on his bed, he had crept up behind her and attempted to slip his hand underneath her dress. Suzanne had slapped his face, and then walked out of the manor house for the final time.

She could endure no more of his harassment, and no amount of money would tempt her to remain in his employment.

Several hours later and obviously fortified with the false bravado of drink, the Englishman had come banging at the door of Suzanne's grandparents.

The Englishman glared at Suzanne. "You need to return to your position at the house; I have not dismissed you as yet."

Her grandfather stood up from his chair. "May I remind your Lordship that it is in my house that you be standing in now. As humble as it may be, I am the master here. And, it would seem to me that the only position you have for my granddaughter is on her back with her legs spread. I think I have had enough of your company today, sir. I invite you to leave."

"I will return with the King's men," blustered the Englishman.

"And what will you tell the King's men? That you tried to have your way with my granddaughter?, That this little girl fought off your unwanted advances with ease? That you have tried to do the same with all of the young girls from this village since you came here? Should we mention your bastard?"

"Bring the King's men if you wish; I will welcome them." Jack McDonough's eyes turned dark as he pointed his finger at the Englishman. "But, you mark my words and mark them well; after the King's men have left, you and I will meet again."

The Englishman's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He wasn't accustomed to being talked to in such a fashion, especially not by someone he regarded as his social inferior. He turned and leered at the Suzanne. He had wanted to bed this fiery wench more than any of the others, but it looked to him now that he had lost his chance.

He left without saying a word more, slamming the door behind him.

"Do you think he will bring the King's men?" There was a touch of worry in Suzanne's voice.

Her grandfather shook his head. "No, he won't. He doesn't have the courage."

---

Every Sunday, Sean Mulroney would wait for Suzanne outside the gate of her grandparent's house and walk with her to church. He seemed to have changed, the brashness he had shown the first time they had met was gone. He was no longer concerned about putting on a show for the other lads of the village. She was his only concern now.

"Would you like to come for supper and meet my family?" Suzanne asked Sean after church.

Sean nodded. "Aye, I would like that very much."

Suzanne tried not to smile; she didn't want to let on that she was excited about him meeting her mother and grandparents.

"Be at the house at four. Sunday supper will be at five."

Sean Mulroney arrived promptly at four and was shown into the small parlor.

"Good afternoon, sir," Sean extended his hand to Suzanne's grandfather, "I am Sean Mulroney."

Jack shook the young man's hand, smiled at the boy's strong grip and welcomed him.

"Tis good that we finally meet. I know you have taken Suzanne to church on Sunday morning for a good many weeks now."

"Aye," Sean responded. "And it's something I enjoy doing."

Jack got up from his chair, closed the door to the parlor and retrieved a bottle and two small glasses. "Would you be joining me for a small taste?"

Sean smiled. "I would if you are offering."

Jack poured a bit of the amber-colored liquor into each glass. "I'm not a man that takes to drink on the Lord's Day, but there seems to be a bit of a chill in the air today."

"And who am I to argue with you?" Sean took the glass from Jack and smiled.

"To your health, and a pox on the English," Jack raised his glass.

"Aye," responded Sean as he took a sip of the fiery whiskey. "To Ireland."

Jack McDonough liked the boy. He knew his granddaughter liked him more than she let on. He could see it in her eyes when she pretended to complain about him waiting outside for her.

"Sir," Sean addressed Jack with a serious look on his face, "I would like to ask for your permission to court your granddaughter."

Jack smiled. "Would you, now?"

He sat his glass down on the table. "And what would your intentions be?"

Sean looked down at his feet and then he cleared his throat.

He looked Jack straight in his eye and answered. "My intentions are to make her my wife."

"What prospects do you have to offer her?" Jack's face was stern, but inside he was enjoying questioning the young man. It reminded him of when Suzanne's father sat in this same parlor and was asked the same questions.

"I've been taken on as an apprentice Boatwright," Sean answered.

Jack nodded, "Well then, as long as Suzanne and her mother have no objections, I have none."

---

Suzanne looked anxiously at her grandfather as he walked in the door. She watched as he slowly removed his worn cap and old coat, hanging both on the peg by the door.

Unable to wait any longer, she asked, "Well? Is there any news?"

He looked at the women in his family. There had been too much misery in their lives. First the sea had claimed his daughter's husband and the father of her child. And, now his granddaughter was facing the likelihood of the same fate.

Jack nodded his head slowly; the look on his face was grave.

"Aye, there's one spot of news. Wreckage has been seen a few miles south on the rocks. That's all. Nothing else." Jack knew from experience that the not knowing was the worst. "And the sea is still running too high for any men to go out."

Jack's wife looked at her husband and asked, "So, no bodies have washed up on the shore then?"

"No, naught that I have heard of."

"Well, there's a small comfort in that, then. No news is good news." She didn't believe her own words; they were for the benefit of her granddaughter.

Suzanne only wanted to run and hide until she could wake up from the nightmare and find herself in Sean's loving arms. If only it were just a dream. If only he hadn't decided to go out fishing with the rest of the men.

Suzanne felt responsible. She had worried so much about the money. She even felt blessed when he found the extra work. Being with child had her more and more concerned about the necessities of life and their ability to provide them. Before he was lost, it seemed like there was no other option.

She closed her eyes and, without realizing it, she rubbed her belly through her dress. She thought of the child growing inside her body, Sean's child. She could not face the idea that their baby might grow up not knowing him.

Suzanne's mother watched her daughter from across the room, and her chest tightened. She silently excused herself, knowing that her tears could bring no relief to her child's pain.

To interrupt the silence, Jack told them, "We're hoping to set out at first light, God willing and the sea being calmer."

Later as she lay in bed, she could hear her mother softly singing. Suzanne's eyes burned. She had only heard her mother sing this lament a handful of times in the past. Her voice was haunting and seemed burdened with the troubles that only a woman could understand.

The news came crying on the wind,
Whipping across the cliff tops,
Black razor rocks ripped into my heart,
And she took him away from me

His race is run,
His day is done
And I'll know his face
Never more

She growls angrily beneath my feet
Holding him tight in her clasp
Spray glistens as tears for my dry eyes
And despair washes over me

His race is run
His day is done
And I'll know his touch
Never more

Never again will I see my love,
Never gaze on his strong face,
Never watch his boat return to shore,
The sea has taken my place

His race is run
His day is done
And I'll know his love
Never more

Suzanne fell asleep trying to picture the man her mother was singing about, her father. He was a man she'd never met and only knew from stories that her mother and grandparents told to her as a child. But, as her eyes closed, she could only see the face of her Sean.

---

"I've asked for permission to come calling on you," Sean's face betrayed his nervousness.

"Oh?" Suzanne raised her eyebrows. "Oh, you have, have you?"

Sean just nodded. He found that his mouth had ceased to open, and his tongue had swelled up. For a moment, he wondered if a curse had been placed upon him.

"And just who did you ask for this permission?" Suzanne eyes seemed to smolder.

"I talked to your grandfather," his voice croaked.

"Well, that is all and fine then," Suzanne smiled sweetly at Sean.

Sean felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"If you were plannin' on courting my grandfather," Suzanne shook her head as she teased him. "You must be daft."

His faced turned bright red, "Well, I thought it was the proper thing to do."

"It was," Suzanne answered. "But, you could have at least told me that you were going to ask him."

Although she was teasing him, she was glad that he had gone to her grandfather and asked for his consent. She knew it made her grandfather happy and her mother as well.

Surprising herself and him, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

---

Jack's face was red with exertion as he entered the house. "They've gone out to the rocks to look at the wreckage."

Suzanne clenched her fists. She had to go down to the quay and wait for the news. She walked to the door and grabbed her shawl.

"Suzanne, don't go," her mother said.

There were tears in her eyes. She didn't want Suzanne to have to suffer the torment that she herself had felt those many years ago.

"I have to," Suzanne looked at her mother's sad face. "I have to go—I need to know."

Her mother walked over to her and put her arms around Suzanne. "Would you like me to go with you?"

Suzanne shook her head, "No, you stay here. I'll be fine; there will some of the other women down there."

After she had walked out the door, Jack patted his daughter's arm. "I'll wait a bit and go down there so she's not by herself."

Although the sun was out and fragments of white clouds scudded across the sky, the wind was still sharp and seemed to bite through her shawl and dress. Her hands shook as she walked quickly down to the quay. She tried to tell herself that it was from the chill, but she knew it was her nerves. Her stomach was tied in knots, and her heart pounded with each step that she took.

A group of women were already waiting when she arrived. Brave smiles were exchanged, but no words. The worry was evident on every face. Each of the women had a husband, or a son, or a brother that hadn't come home. For some, this was not their first trip, nor would it be their last trip, to that dreaded spot.

They could see the small boats that had rowed out past the surf to the rocks just outside of the harbor. Many a small craft had been dashed against those rocks, and more than a few local men had perished within sight of their homes and safety. Suzanne clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Look! They're coming in!" One of the women shouted as she pointed out towards the rocks.

The two small boats that had rowed out to the rocks were making their way back with the wreckage in tow. They were still too far out for anyone standing by the dock to get any hint as to what they had found.

Suzanne was terrified at what the news might be. She stood there watching the men row the small boats closer with each stroke. The urge to run was overwhelming, but her feet wouldn't move. They felt like two great lumps of lead.

---

The day had started bright and sunny. Sean had come calling for Suzanne at eleven. They had planned to go for a walk in the woods north of the village. There was privacy there, and they would be away from prying eyes and eager ears. They had been courting for two months now.

Suzanne wouldn't admit it to a soul, but she was falling in love with Sean.

Once away from the village, Suzanne put her hand in his. She liked how warm and strong his hands felt. She could feel her body tingle as they walked. At night, when she was in bed, she would whisper her name and add Mulroney to the end. It felt a perfect fit to her ear and her tongue. She wondered how long he would wait before asking her to marry him.

As they ate their lunch, they didn't notice the clouds that had rolled in from the sea. The trees blocked their view of the horizon, and they only had eyes for each other. A squall quickly moved in, and before they knew it, the rain had caught them ill-prepared.

It only took a few minutes for the both of them to be soaked to the skin.

"Robert McCarthy's place isn't far." Suzanne remembered childhood visits with her grandfather to the reclusive McCarthy.

They were cold, wet, and shivering when they found the small, stone cabin. No smoke rose from the chimney; it looked deserted. Once they got closer, they saw the note tacked on the door advising that old man was well, and had just gone to visit his sister for a few weeks.

It felt good to get out of the rain, but the cabin was no warmer than the outdoors. While Suzanne shivered and watched, Sean got a fire started in the fireplace.

He looked at Suzanne with a worried expression. "You need to get out of those wet clothes."

"I'll not be taking my clothes off in front of you, Mr. Mulroney!" Suzanne snapped back immediately.

"I'll turn my back," Sean offered. "And then you can get into the bed and get warm while your clothes dry.

She knew he was right; she had to get out of her wet clothes and get warm, else she would catch her death before he ever got around to proposing. "You turn your back...and you had better not try to turn your eyes!"

When he was turned, and she was convinced that he was going to keep his word, she began to remove her clothes. She hung them quickly by the fire, and shivering, she slipped under the heavy blanket on the bed. As she began to warm, her shivering stopped, and she felt a bit guilty as she watched Sean shaking and pacing by the fire, trying to get warm in his rain-soaked clothes.

"I'll turn my eyes, and you can hang up your clothes," She paused nervously, "And then crawl under the blanket to get warm...just you stay over there." She pointed to the opposite side of the bed. .

"Are you sure?" Sean shook as he turned and looked at Suzanne.

"Yes," Suzanne replied and then rolled over and faced the wall. She could hear him removing his clothing, and then she heard the sound of wood being added to the fire. As he slid under the blanket, she held the corner of the heavy quilt next to her chest.


"Oh, I don't think I've ever felt so cold." Sean's teeth chattered.

Suzanne rolled over. Sean's face was pale, and his lips had a bluish tinge to them. She knew he was cold, even colder than she had been. There was a moment of hesitation, and then she moved closer to him and pressed her body against him. He was cold. It felt like her body was touching ice. Forgetting that she shouldn't, she wrapped her arms around him and just held him.

The two of them lay there as Suzanne continued to rub her hands up and down his back. She couldn't help but notice that his body smelled of soap. He must have bathed just before he came calling on her.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I feel much warmer now."

Suzanne looked up into Sean's eyes and smiled. She made no effort to resist when his lips touched hers. Her head arched up and to meet his lips. She was surprised when his tongue entered her mouth, but she liked how it felt.

She made no attempt to stop his hand as it cupped her breast; she liked how his hand felt against her firm flesh. Her small nipple hardened against the palm of his hand. She felt a warmth building inside of her that she had only felt late at night when should would lie in bed and dream of being married to Sean.

What was even more surprising to her was the feeling of something poking against her belly. Her mind raced back to the clumsy talks her mother had with her, attempting to teach her the facts of life.

Suzanne reached down to feel what was touching her, and she gasped when she touched his erect manhood. She had only seen a couple of the local boys' organs when they had peed in the alley, and that was when they were all no more than eight or nine. This was much larger than what she had remembered.

Sean let out a soft moan as her hand touched his hardness. As she rubbed it slowly up and down with the palm of her hand, more moans of pleasure escaped his lips. His hands continued fondling her breasts as she moved her hand along his length.

It felt so hard; she was amazed that this thing she had always seen as a wiggly, little, worm-like creature could get so stiff.

With the caress of Sean's fingers across her breasts, the warmth inside her loins built even further. She almost felt like she was on fire.

She wrapped her hand around his shaft and held it a little more tightly. It didn't seem to hurt him, so she stroked a little faster, liking how it grew and how he moaned in her ear. In fact, it seemed the faster she pumped, the more he liked it.

"Oh, God, Suzanne, I'm going to..." Sean cried out.

Before he could finish, his body went stiff and started to shake. Then she felt the warm splashes against her body. Suddenly, she understood at what her mother had been trying to tell her. She continued moving her hand up and down his spurting member. She finally began to slow down when she felt his manhood becoming soft in her hand.

She touched her belly and felt the thick, warm substance. There was a tingling, satisfying feeling coursing through her. Suzanne smiled as she looked up into his eyes; she knew she had given him pleasure.

"I'm so sorry, Suzanne." Sean was blushing. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

Suzanne kissed him softly on the lips, and replied. "It's okay."

No resistance was offered when he slid his hand down over her belly and through the sparse thatch of hair between her legs. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted him to touch her where none had touched her before. There was an ache inside of her that she somehow knew he would be able to relieve.

Her eyes closed as she felt his finger slide between her lips. She was scared and excited. Deep down she knew that she should stop him, but she didn't want to. "Kiss me again, Sean." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

His lips met hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her. The kiss was slow and deep, full of yearning and desire. All the while, his finger caressed her most private of spots. When he touched her pearl of desire, she sucked in her breath and could feel her world turning upside down. With her moan of pleasure, his control began to fall away, and neither noticed another storm brewing in the distance.

Outside, the skies had grown darker, the wind had picked up and cold the rain fell again. But, the cabin was warmed by two fires, the flames in the hearth and the fire of passion that burned even hotter in the bed

Suzanne gasped as his finger penetrated up to her maidenhead. No one, not even herself, had explored there. Inspired by the new wetness between her thighs, she reached between Sean's legs, grasped his re-awakening manhood in her fingers and began to coax it back to life.

When he was fully erect, she whispered, "Take me, Sean."

His eyes burned with passion as he asked, "Are you sure, Suzanne?"

No words escaped her lips; she just looked into his eyes and nodded slowly. She spread her legs and brought her knees up. She watched as he slipped between her legs, and she felt his tip at her entrance, her heart pounding but filled with a love for him.


She buried her face in his shoulder and clawed into his back as he took her virginity. He was still inside of her as a moment of white-hot pain that flowed through her body, then she felt him slowly push deeper and deeper.

As she relaxed beneath him, Sean whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

As he held her close, his manhood fully inside of her, the pain seemed like a distant memory. She smiled into his concerned eyes, leaned her head up and kissed him softly on the lips.

At first, they moved like the gathering breezes, softly, back and forth. Her hips rose and fell to meet his slow and gentle thrusts, and her hands ran over his body. Each time his swollen manhood slipped into her tight tunnel she would moan quietly into his ear.

The wind outside rattled the window panes and blew in fiercer gusts as the tempo of their lovemaking increased. Again, they kissed, deeper than before, their tongues dancing against each other. For the first time, she thrust her tongue into his mouth and swirled it against his tongue.

The sky was almost black as the wind began to rage, and the rain pelted in hard drops against the roof.

As the storm reached its crescendo, the two lovers found their final moment of lovemaking. Suzanne cried out as a new experience took hold of her body. She shook to her core as a clap of thunder shook the cabin. Sean moaned loudly as the heavens opened up and both released their floods.

---

The grim-faced men tied their boats up at the dock. Suzanne felt the familiar hand of her grandfather on her shoulder. She was glad that he had come.

One of other women called out, "What did you find?"

Suzanne felt her knees go weak when she heard the words, "The Dottie Ell."

"Take me home," she whispered to her grandfather, who had already wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her away.

The next thing she remembered was lying on her bed. She could hear her mother and grandfather downstairs. She closed her eyes again and listened as she realized once more that the nightmare hadn't let her wake.

"Did they find anything else?" Suzanne's mother asked.

"They found naught else," Jack McDonough answered. "Once I know that the girl is okay, I'll go back down and see if there is any other news."

"Jack, is it good that nothing else was found?" Suzanne's grandmother asked in a tone that begged for assurance.

"I don't know," he answered, trying to accommodate his wife's unspoken plea, "I suppose as long as there were no bodies found with the wreckage, there is always a bit of hope. The other boats should be making their way back today, I would think...at least those that weren't blown halfway to the Grand Banks."

Suzanne closed her eyes tighter and tried not to think of what had to be the inevitable. The tears burned as her body began to shake. She sobbed into her pillow.

'Why? Why him? He was too young! He would be a father in a few months! Why?' The thoughts burned through her mind as she tried to grasp the reality that her Sean was gone.

---

Tap. Tap...Tap. Tap. Tap...Tap

Suzanne was pulled from her sleep by an insistent tapping at her bedroom window. She got up from her bed and looked down towards the street. A frown crossed her face as she opened the window.

"Sean Mulroney! What are you trying to do?" she asked, attempting to scold him best she could at a loud whisper.

Sean's face broke into a wide grin, "Come downstairs, girl."

There was not a hint of whisper in his voice.

"Whatever for?" Suzanne hissed back, afraid they might wake her mother or grandparents.

"Come on down here, and let me get a better look at you," Sean waved his arm wildly, motioning for her to join him.

"I think you've gone bloody daft, that's what I think. Now give me a minute and try to be quiet before you wake half the village." Suzanne closed the window and slipped quietly down the stairs.

"Now, just what is it that you are wanting?" She shivered in the night air, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow in his direction.

Sean wrapped his arms around Suzanne and went to kiss her. "It's you that I am wanting."

She pushed him roughly away. "You'll not be coming around here, Sean Mulroney, with whiskey on your breath and lovin' on your mind."

He laughed at her words, but was not swayed from his purpose by her gesture.

"There's something that I've been meaning to ask you." Sean slurred just a bit as he tried to put his arms around Suzanne again.

"Well, then you can ask me in the morning when you are sober," Suzanne's voice had an icy chill to it that told Sean that her decision was final.

"On our way to church," she added.

"I was just going to ask you if you would..."

"I know what you are going to ask me," Suzanne interrupted. "And I want you sober when you ask. Now you get on home and to your bed."

She wagged her finger at him. "And don't be late in the morning."

"Aye, then I'll be here in the morning." Sean turned to leave.

He stopped and looked at Suzanne one more time. "And you know that I love you, Suzanne."

Suzanne had a hard time to keep from smiling. "Be off with you."

She watched as he smiled, waved, and began to walk home. "Sean Mulroney," she called after him.

He turned and looked at Suzanne.

"And I love you too; don't ask me why, but I do."

Suzanne smiled and blew him a kiss before walking inside the house.

Once back in bed, Suzanne was relieved that neither her mother nor grandparents had been woken up. She smiled as she drifted back off to sleep.

In the bedroom below Suzanne, Jack tapped his wife on the shoulder and whispered, "Irene, me girl, it looks like we may be having a wedding soon."

---

Throughout the day, the boats straggled back into the harbor, each seeming to limp upon the waves. Every boat of men told their own harrowing tales of the storm. None could remember a storm as bad as this had been. None had any clue as to the fate of the crew of the Dottie Ell.

By nightfall, all of the fishing boats and their crews had been accounted for with the exception of one. And, as the men gathered at O'Shaughnessy's, they speculated on what had happened to the craft that had been found broken up against the rock.

Most believed the small boat had been caught in the open sea, began to take on water, and had capsized in the wind. A portion of the mast had been found, and from the looks of it, the sails had been up. That only furthered the speculation that the sea and wind had joined forces to cause the demise of the Dottie Ell.

After too much of the talk and the ale, Jack McDonough walked home with a heavy heart. He had lost one son-in-law to the sea, and now it looked like he had lost the husband of his beloved granddaughter.

He knew he would have to break the news that the coast would be combed in the morning to look for the bodies of the lost fishermen. He would join the grim expedition while a special service would be held at the church to remember the lost crew. He could not bear to see Suzanne as she joined her mother and the other women in black, mourning their lost husbands, sons, and brothers.

---

The summer's day when she became Sean's wife was the happiest in Suzanne's life. She had worn the very dress that her mother had worn to wed her father. She clutched a bouquet of flowers in her hand as listened to the words of the priest and stole glances at the man she loved.

Her grandfather looked ten years younger that day. Her grandmother glowed in her prettiest dress. And, it was the one day that she would always remember seeing her mother happy, truly happy.

"You may kiss the bride." She kissed Sean for the first time as Mrs. Sean Mulroney.

O'Shaughnessy himself had given the newlyweds the best room in the house as his gift. As the revelers celebrated downstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Mulroney made love for the first time as husband and wife, laughing later that only the sounds of the drunken crowd drowned the sounds of their passion.

---

The few men who remained had gone out right after the church service to join the others in the search. Suzanne walked up to Widow's Weep. She wanted to be alone in her grief. Wave after wave crashed upon the rocks below, each crashing a little more through the numb wall she had begun building inside herself. She could taste the salt in the air and the salt from her tears.

Her eyes scanned the sea below and she wondered where he was out there. Her heart ached as she wondered if he had died thinking of her, if he had called out for her.

The surviving fishermen, so many of them Sean's friends, had cast their eyes to the ground at the service rather than look Suzanne in the eye. She understood that in their hearts they celebrated being alive even as she was mourning his loss. She bore no animosity towards them, only a desperate desire to be among the guilty rather than the grieving.

Suzanne knew she should be at home with her mother and her grandmother. The other women of the village would be to coming over to pay their respects. It was the way of a fishing village. She had paid too many such visits with her mother in the past.

She could close her eyes and hear his voice; it always sounded as he were half-laughing when he called out her name.

She shivered and pulled her shawl tighter around her. She wanted the shawl to be his arms holding her. How she ached for those arms right now. The thought that she would never feel them again...

"Suzanne!" The wind played cruel tricks with her mind. "Suzanne, I'm home!"

She thought again that she should go home.

"Suzanne!" This insistent voice seemed closer. For a moment, she determined that her mind had been lost in the grief. Then, it came again.

"Suzanne!"

She whirled around and her mouth dropped. She threw open her arms and let her shawl go to the wind as she ran towards him.

"I'm home, Suzanne." Sean smiled and laughed. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. And, with the tenderness of a man almost taken from his beloved, he kissed her, and he kissed her again.

"But, how?" Suzanne ran her fingers over his face, assuring herself he was real, not some figment of her pain.

He took her hand into his and kissed her fingers, and she finally believed that it was truly her husband standing in front of her.

"An English revenue frigate picked us up just before the boat went over. After the storm, they dropped us off about day's walk from here."

Suzanne didn't hear a word he said. She was still busy touching him, taking in the sight and smell of him, too busy giving thanks. She buried her head into his chest, not wanting him to see the tears flowing from her eyes.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered against him.

He stroked her auburn hair, and then placed his finger on the tip of her chin. He smiled into her green eyes as he said, "No, the devil will have to wait before he gets his dance with Sean Mulroney!"

"Take me home, Sean," Suzanne spoke softly, one hand clinging to him, the other hand touched her belly where the new life that they had created was growing. "Take us both home, Sean."

"Aye, Suzanne my love, let's go home." Sean put his arm around Suzanne's waist and they began to make their way back to the village.