Jacob's Mother—Chapter 4

The Maiden and the Gancanagh

Photo by Tommy Bond on Unsplash

Jacob’s Mother is a serialized novel. Start with Chapter One.

Chapter Four: The Maiden and the Gancanagh

Ireland—The Old Gaelic World

The Wicklow mountains were green with rain. The days held all four seasons at once. Merry and drunk with the arrival of spring, no one in Elizabeth’s town seemed to mind getting drenched by a passing shower, since the sun was sure to follow in the next few minutes. The land was brimming with abundance. Baby sheep were born and frolicked, their parents fat with wool. The rivers flowed swiftly with clear water, and wildflowers bloomed as far as the eye could see. It was as if the whole earth turned green.

Moya had sent Elizabeth to the stream to find birch bark for the chimney in preparation for the Imbolc ceremonies. Spring had arrived, and these ceremonies brought good luck to the households and surrounding lands. Elizabeth decided to take the long way, so she could walk past the McLaughlin’s sheep farm. It was shearing time, and she was hoping to catch a glimpse of James McLaughlin. As she walked she smiled. The sun was poking through the puffy, white clouds and it felt good on her shoulders. Its warmth reminded her of James’s arms around her.

Elizabeth walked along the stacked stone fences that separated the farms. Finally, she arrived at the McLaughlin farm. She stood by the wall and could see the men and sheepdogs of the farm rounding up the sheep into a big pen. It was close to shearing time, so the animals had to be collected. From where she was standing, the sheep looked like a solid living mass, all huddled together in the pen. Three young men were closing the pen gates. All of them had shocks of red hair. Even though she was far away, should could tell that they were James’ brothers. There was no sign of James. Elizabeth felt small on the hillside, far away from the people of the farm. Even though spring had sprung, a cold breeze blew across the countryside, and she shivered a bit, pulling her shawl tight around her.

All of a sudden, James emerged from behind the barn, with a stray lamb draped over his broad shoulders. Elizabeth could tell he was smiling and laughing, even though he was too far away for her to actually see his toothy grin. The thing about James was that his whole body laughed and smiled. Happiness and warmth erupted out of him, infecting everyone around him with goodwill and laughter. He placed the lamb in the pen with the others, and one of his redheaded brothers gave him a slap on the back. Elizabeth felt warm just looking at him. James leaned against the pen and looked across the land.

Elizabeth ducked down behind the wall. She felt foolish hiding like that, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want James to know she was watching him. Would he know she took the long way just to catch a glimpse of him? Did he feel the same way about her? What if she misunderstood his naturally friendly nature? Just the other day, she had seen him laughing with a girl in the village. She stayed crouched down for a few minutes, feeling completely silly. James probably wouldn’t even recognize her from that distance. She stood up and continued to walk to the stream. She wasn’t even going to look in James’s direction. Well, maybe a quick look…

She looked, and he was staring right at her and waving!

Frozen with embarrassment, Elizabeth couldn’t wave back. Oh goodness, she thought, and ran the rest of the way to the stream, leaving all of James’s warmth behind her, without another glance. She was so confused. He had put his arms around her at the fence, and oh, it felt so wonderful, but maybe he did that to all the maidens. James was energy and smiles, yet never serious, so Elizabeth assumed he must not be serious about her.

Arriving at the grove alongside the stream, she was both mortified that she didn’t wave back and out of breath. She sat down on a large lichen covered rock, defeated. Certainly, James would think her a fool. She took in her surroundings. The Goddess Brigid had painted the mossy bank of the streams with spring wildflowers. The rocks were covered in green. Even the trees’ bark had a greenish hue. The area around the stream seemed magical to Elizabeth, colors seemed brighter, the air fragrant with flora and fauna. Even the rock she was sitting on seemed otherworldly. The shape of it was odd. When she leaned back, it was as if the rock were cradling her, created for her to lie on. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the stream. She found it odd that she heard no birds or bugs, but closed her eyes anyway.

Through closed eyelids, she could see sunlight twinkling through the leaves on the trees, making the inside of her eyelids red with dancing spots. It was quite comfortable. She drifted to sleep. In her dream, she should could feel James’s arms wrapping around her waist. She nuzzled into his neck, but it was cold, not warm. Something was wrong. She tried to wake up, but found that she couldn’t move, she was so heavy with sleep. She could feel James’s breath on her face, and she wanted him to put his lips onto hers. There was a strange smoky odor as if from a pipe. She wanted him to touch her skin so badly. She needed him to touch her. He was so close.

“Touch me,” she heard herself say.

A cool finger stroked the side of her face and the side of her neck. Then the finger ran along the edge of her clavicle. She gasped in pleasure. But something was wrong. The finger was cold, and James could never be cold. Elizabeth still couldn’t move or open her eyes. She felt so close to whoever was upon her. She wanted her skirt lifted, but she knew she didn’t really want that. Something was wrong. Was she paralyzed or dreaming? Her body felt liquid and heavy at the same time. Her skin felt like it was melting into the cool surface of the rock. She imagined her skirt being lifted, and then her skirt was being lifted, and a desire for more overwhelmed her. Aren’t you a naughty minx, a voice said inside her head. I will have you. She forced her eyes open with all her might, and no one was there.

She cried out and sat up in a panic. The rock was just a regular rock. She stood up and looked around. Down by the stream sat a handsome, dark haired young man, smoking a pipe. She was drawn to him, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. He was lounging on the bank with a feline indifference. Was that the man? It couldn’t be, she thought. Logic told her that it couldn’t be him, since just a moment ago someone was lifting her skirt, and this man was smoking a pipe at least one hundred paces away. He didn’t look at her, but gazed across the river, smoking.

“Who are you?” she cried out.

But the man didn’t respond. He lit his pipe, ropy sinews in his arms bulging. It was as if he didn’t hear her, as if she wasn’t there. A wave of fear washed over her. Her whole body went cold. The man kept staring across the river and smoking. Elizabeth was chilled to the bone, except for the places on her face and neck where the man touched her. Those places burned. She wanted him to touch her again, so badly. She knew it was wrong, and she was terrified, but she wanted it. She needed it. Desire spread throughout her whole body. The burning places on her face and neck were so pleasurable. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. “Please,” she cried out again. “Who are you?”

The man turned his head and grinned at her. He had a wide mouth, thin lips, and a strong jaw. He raised one dark eyebrow and looked at her, as if he knew every dark crevice of her body.

Elizabeth blushed all over. She was so hot, and this man was so cool.

She was shocked at herself, but she wanted this stranger to lift her skirt and do things to her that no one had done before. She covered her mouth with dismay at her thoughts, but she couldn’t help this overwhelming and strange desire for the man. She ran towards him.

“Hey, Lil!” cried out a familiar voice.

Elizabeth turned around, and there was James, all smiles and warmth and laughter.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking towards her.

Elizabeth wanted James, but she also wanted the man. She turned around. The man had vanished. She could still smell his pipe smoke in the air. She turned back to James and asked, “Did you see where that man went?”

“What man?”

“The man! The man that was just here, smoking a pipe. Where did he go?”

“I saw no man.”

“Don’t you smell his smoke?” Elizabeth asked.

James shook his head, and was looking at her strangely. He took a step towards her.

Her heart pounded in her ears. She could hear nothing else. The places on her face and neck where the man touched her burned, but the rest of her was cold. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, as if she was drowning. Then she fainted.

Continue to Chapter 5.

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Jacob’s Mother is an original publication by Laura Ellis. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law and fair use.